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"Tell me more." His voice is rough and demanding and doing things to me. "Don't stop talking."

"You're going to make me come." My voice is shaking. I don't care. I don't care about anything except the pressure building low and heavy, coiling tighter with every roll of my hips. "I can feel it building. It's right there-"

His mouth opens against the side of my throat. Then his teeth close on the skin and he sucks, deliberate, sustained, and the sharp sting blooms through me at the same time his hips drive up, and both sensations hit at once. The bright pain on my neck and the thick drag of him inside me, and my rhythm breaks.

I grind down hard, chasing it, my thighs clamped around him, my fingers wrenched tight in his hair.

"That's going to leave a mark," I manage.

He doesn't lift his mouth. Clearly that’s exactly what he wants.

"Aiden,” my voice is so high and helpless. "I'm close. I'm right there. Keep it exactly like that. Please, please, please."

His arms band around my waist. His hips keep the pace I set, steady and relentless. "I've got you. Let me feel it."

I come mid-sentence, his cock buried deep inside me, every part of me clenching around him, legs locked,fingers digging into his back hard enough to leave marks of my own. The orgasm rolls through me in long heavy waves, each one pulling him deeper, and I'm talking through it. Broken, incoherent, telling him I can feel it everywhere, telling him not to stop, saying his name like it's the only word I've got left.

He follows me over. His arms crush me against him, his hips stutter and drive up one last time, and he comes with a low shattered sound buried in the crook of my neck. His shoulders shake. His breathing tears apart as his cock swells and he fills me with his release.

I hold on to him through it. Both of us wrapped around each other on the edge of his bed, shaking, breathing hard, his face in my neck and mine in his hair.

His thumb finds the mark on my throat. Traces it without saying a word. His expression full of possessive satisfaction that I shouldn’t find this appealing.

I press my lips against his temple, breathing him in as the guilt arrives the way it always does after the pleasure, settling into the cracks that form in my heart.

He asked me to tell him what I felt. And I did. Every true thing except the one he deserves most.

Tomorrow. Before we go to the boatyard, before coffee, before he touches me again. I have to tell him all of it. And he either forgives me and we start something real, or this was my first and last visit to his home.

I owe him that.

I owed him that before tonight, and I took tonight anyway.

Chapter 15

Aiden

Her hair's all over my pillow.

Chestnut and gold in the morning light, silky, and absolutely everywhere. Flung across the white cotton and spread halfway onto my chest. She's on her stomach with one arm thrown across me, face turned toward the window, mouth slightly open.

She’s wearing one of my T-shirts. She must have dug it out of my dresser sometime after I passed out. It’s huge on her and seeing her wrapped in my clothes is doing something undeniably soft to my insides. It’s rucked up past her ribs, showing the dip of her spine and the curve of her lovely ass, which I spent a good portion of last night discovering with my mouth.

Diesel's at the foot of the bed. Chin on his paws. Watching me with a look that I can only describe as approval.

The mark on her throat is bright against her pale, flawless skin. Purple-red, unmistakable, right where I put it. Deliberate. She knew what I was doing and she tilted her head back and gave me permission. I took my time, and looking at it now in the early morning light, vibrantly visible, marking her as mine, going nowhere for days, sends a wave of heat straight through my gut that has no business showing up this early in the morning.

I want to put my mouth on it again. Press my lips to the bruise until she wakes up arching into me, half-asleep, making that sound she makes when she's not awake enough to hold anything back. I'm hard. Been hard since I opened my eyes and registered her weight across my ribs, the smell of her hair on my sheets. And the image isn't helping.

I could easily roll her onto her back, push that stolen T-shirt up over her breasts and sink into her while she's still warm and drowsy and saying my name like she did last night. Like it’s the most wonderful word she’s ever heard.

I don't do any of it. She looks so peaceful here in my bed, and we were up half the night. I rode her hard. Not stopping until we were both completely and thoroughly spent. Waking her seems criminal.

So I lie here, fingers tapping on my thigh. I need to move. I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off Vanessa if I stay here in bed with her.

Diesel exhales a theatrically aggrieved sigh. Stretching it out long. He puts his head down between his front paws and closes his eyes like he's given up on me.

"Don't start."