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He moves his body back down the bed, yanking my skirt off as he goes and tossing it to the side. As he positions himself on his stomach between my thighs, I watch as he drops his head and presses his mouth against the satin material of my underwear.

“Oh, my God,” I whisper, my thighs clenching when he rubs his mouth back and forth against the satin.

“My name’s Vincent. But you can yell whatever you want tonight,” he replies with laughter in his voice as he continues torturing me.

“Look who’s got jokes tonight,” I reply sarcastically. “Just because you—HOLY SHIT!”

I squeeze the spindles tighter and my head drops back down to the bed when he quickly rips my underwear off like it’s made of paper and I feel his mouth on me.

There’s absolutely nothing I can do but hold on tight and squeeze my eyes closed.

He swirls his tongue in the most amazing way and my back arches as I pant and moan.

I’ve imagined what it would be like for a guy to do this to me, but it always seemed so embarrassing, and I always wondered how women could forget about the fact that a man is using his tongue in the most intimate of places and just enjoy it.

And now I understand.

Vincent was right. He definitely knows what he’s doing, and all thought completely leaves my mind except for how good it feels. He uses just the right amount of pressure and his lips and tongue hit me in just the right spot until I have to let go of the headboard and grab onto his head, clutching his hair in my hands to tightly I’m surprised I don’t tear it out by the roots.

He sucks me into his mouth and spots explode behind my eyes when my orgasm rushes through me, pulsing and quaking as he continues to caress me with his tongue until I collapse onto the bed.

While I pant and try to catch my breath, Vincent crawls up my body, yanking his shirt off and tossing it to the side of the bed.

He drops his hands down on either side of me, holding himself up as he lowers his head and kisses me. When I taste myself on his lips, the fire inside of me starts coming back to life, and I quickly reach down between us and unbutton his jeans.

I help him push them down his thighs and he kicks them off, settling himself back between my legs with his chest pressing against mine.

He stares down at me and I can see it written all over his face again—worry.

Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I hold him tighter to me, wrapping my legs around his waist.

I can feel him, hot and hard and heavy between my thighs, and my body immediately reacts, my hips jerking forward as I slide myself against him.

He lets out a low grown and I lift my head, pressing my mouth to his.

“I’m fine. I swear. Please, Vincent,” I beg, whispering against his lips. “I need you.”

“Christ,” he mutters. “If I hurt you at all, you damn well better tell me.”

He quickly reaches over to his nightstand drawer, pulling out a foil packet. My body starts writhing on the bed with eagerness as I watch him lift up and quickly put on the condom before dropping back down to my body, sliding his arms under me and holding me close.

“I have never wanted anymore more than I do you. Don’t you ever fucking forget that,” he growls.

His mouth slams against mine and the next thing I know, he’s sliding into me.

My thighs tighten so hard around his waist that I know they’re going to hurt tomorrow, and I cling to his shoulders like I’m seconds away from falling off a cliff. But that’s exactly how I feel as he takes his time, pushing into me achingly slowly.

“Stop treating me like I’m made of glass,” I mutter, my hips jerking up to bring him in deeper.

He lets out another low growl, thrusting his hips until he’s fully inside, and I immediately regret what I just said. I’d like to say it goes smashingly well and doesn’t hurt at all, but . . .

Sweet mother of all that is holy, how does he even fit in there?!

“Breathe, Belle,” he whispers in my ear.

He holds himself perfectly still and the feel of his warm breath against my face and his arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me close, makes the pain disappear in an instant.

“Tell me you’re okay,” he whispers again, peppering kisses along my cheek and my jaw.

His concern for me, and his gentleness, make me forget about everything and just want more. I immediately move my hips against him, wanting more . . . needing more.

“I’m okay, I swear. You can move now.”

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