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“You’re one woman who never has to beg for anything, Kylie, but it’s hotter than hell when you do.” He traced my bottom lip with his tongue while he put more pressure on my clit, circling, teasing, and then satisfying with bold, harder strokes.
“I’ll do anything if you just make me come,” I whimpered. “Please.”
“I fucking wish I could see your face,” he grumbled. “But I can wait until next time.”
“Oh, God,” I moaned as I felt my climax starting to build. “More.”
“You mean like this?” he asked harshly as he gave me the hard pressure I needed.
“Yes!” I whimpered. “Just like that.”
I felt one of his fingers slide inside my entrance, and Dylan groaned. “Fuck! You’re so hot and so damn tight. Come for me, love.”
I arched my back, the pleasure so sharp that I could hardly breathe. “Yes. Dylan. Oh, God, that feels so good.”
He slammed his mouth down on mine as my orgasm rocked my body, kissing me breathless as his fingers brought me to release.
When he lifted his head, I was panting, and my heart was racing so fast I felt like it was going to explode.
He moved onto his back and cradled my head against his chest for a few minutes before he asked, “Feeling better?”
“Yes,” I said, my breath still heavy. “But that probably shouldn’t have happened.”
My pulse was slowing, but my head was still spinning.
I’d known Dylan was hot, but the way he’d gotten me off so easily like that was mind-blowing.
The man had assaulted my senses until I was mindless—without even breaking a sweat.
“Why not?” he asked huskily.
Calmer now, I reached up and stroked his stubbled jaw. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, Dylan Lancaster, but we can’t possibly make this relationship complicated. We have a few weeks left, and then I’ll come back to my life in Newport Beach. You’ll be in England where you belong. I don’t want something so wonderful messing with either of heads after it’s over. And I don’t want either one of us to end up hurt.”
He wrapped his arms around me tightly. “Kylie, the last thing in the world I want is to hurt you, but do you really think we’re going to walk away from each other after the wedding and never see each other again?”
“No,” I assured him in a rush. “We’ll talk on the phone. Stay in touch. This has never been about just our crazy physical attraction.”
“I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you, sweetheart, but I’m not going to push you for something you don’t want. You’re too damn important to me. This has to be your move, even if it kills me. I’d never regret anything that happens between the two of us, but know this…I’m not planning on walking away from us.”
My pulse raced, and he’d never know how much I wanted to believe those words. I wanted to think he wouldn’t forget me once he rejoined his family and his normal life back in England, but I found that possibility highly unlikely. He might be saying that now, but once he’d completely healed emotionally and met some gorgeous woman in England, he’d feel differently. I doubted that we’d end up friends after he was involved with someone across the pond.
“My bedroom door will never be locked,” he said huskily. “Not here. Not in Beverly Hills, and not in England if I go to Damian’s wedding. It’s always going to be open for you if you change your mind, Kylie.”
My heart skittered as he stroked his hand through my hair and placed a short but devastating kiss on my lips.
After that admission, I wasn’t sure how in the hell I was going to stay away.
