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Nor did he, but he was no fool—this wasn’t going away. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“That I don’t get it?” she asked, breathlessly, as she hooked her hands into his boxer shorts and then over his ass. He pushed against her, so she could feel the fullness of his erection, and her eyes widened in response.

“No regrets,” he responded, and then dropped his head so he could pull her lower lip between his teeth, then kiss her hard and fast. His body moved with the same need, his hands now pushing at her clothes, removing them from her just as she’d done to him, until they were both a tangle of limbs on the sofa, the fire nearby crackling in the grate with a heat that echoed that which they were generating.

He unhooked her bra, sliding it from her body so his hands could cup her bare breasts, feeling their fullness in the palms of his hands before dropping to suck a nipple in his mouth before moving to the other. He worshipped her body with his mouth until her back was arching and her moans were filling the room.

With one hand he pulled at a nipple and with the other he slid lower, between her legs, finding her most sensitive cluster of nerves and brushing his fingers over it, first through the fine fabric of her underpants and then, sliding inside the elastic so they were skin to skin, him touching her in the most intimate of ways.

She called his name into the room like a curse, an invocation of something deep and primal that he felt in the very core of his soul.

“You are perfect,” he muttered, as his fingers moved lower, parting her sex. His eyes stared into hers as he pushed himself inside of her, just his fingers, feeling her muscles tighten with need. “And so ready for me.”

She nodded feverishly. “Please,” she said, digging her nails into his shoulder as he slid his fingers in and out, imagining it was his cock instead, so heat started to burn in his balls.

He dropped his head to one of her beautiful breasts first though, and now when he sucked her nipple hard and fast, in time with his fingers, she couldn’t stop crying out incoherently, moving her hips with desperate hunger, writhing beneath him as pleasure exploded through her. And only then did he move, pulling away from her with ice-cold reluctance, just so he could grab his jeans, find his wallet and remove a condom. God knew why he still had them in there—it felt like a piece of his old life. But in this moment, he could feel only gratitude that he’d always been prepared for anything.

He ripped it open and pushed it over his length then glanced down at her flushed face. Her eyes were resting on his arousal, her lips parted, breath rushed, as though she’d never seen a naked man before. He held himself in his palm, slowly running his hand from the base to the tip, enjoying the way her chest started to move quicker with the speed of her breathing.

“I don’t know what the hell is happening,” he said, with more honesty than he’d ever used in his life.

“I don’t care. It’s…this,” she waved a hand in the general direction of the tree. He didn’t even try to decipher her meaning. Instead, he brought his body over hers, his mouth reconnected with Chloe’s and then he was at the entry to her sex, his cock throbbing with the power of his need. His knee pressed deeper into the sofa, separating her legs, but it was unnecessary. She splayed her thighs for him and lifted her hips, her voice an incandescent moan as he pressed his tip slightly deeper and she whimpered, her nails finding purchase on the flesh of his back, digging in hard.

“My God, yes,” she cried, as he kissed her to swallow the plea, pressing in a little further. “Stop,” she whispered, moving one palm to his chest, so with a sudden and dramatic scream, his own needs were forced to a halt. He pushed up to stare down into her face.

“Stop?” He couldn’t believe it. He needed and wanted her, but she was obviously putting an end to this, and perhaps it was for the best?

“Stop treating me like I’m made of glass,” she muttered angrily. “Take me, Dimitrios. Take me now. Hard and fast, like I know you want to. Take me like the devil is at your heels, like your life depends on becoming one with me. Take me.”

He expelled a sharp, harsh breath as her plea landed right in his core, the words tightening a resolution in his gut he couldn’t ignore.

“Yes,” he said in confirmation, but still he hesitated for a beat. His eyes probed hers and then, when her nails squeezed into his shoulder, as if in one last, silent plea, he thrust deep and hard into Chloe, taking her just as she’d begged him to, burying himself balls-deep in her sex, until her muscles were squeezing and tightening around him and he could hardly breathe. Holy hell.

“That… feels… so… good,” she groaned, voice tortured. “You were made for this.”

“Made for what?” he asked, as he pulled out then drove into her again, so her nails tore shreds down his back.

“This, all this!”

But he dropped his mouth and kissed her, swallowing the garbled words into his mouth, his soul, wondering if anything had ever felt quite so good as burying himself in this woman. She’d promised to bring Christmas magic to the house but this was a different kind of magic altogether and it was eating him alive.

His weight on her was sublime. Yet another pleasure in an evening of pleasures. One after the other, she remembered, with a flush on her cheeks as she inwardly recounted all the ways he’d touched her, teased her, made her come. But as she remembered them all, and was grateful, reality began to intercede. He stopped being a faceless instrument of pleasure, an object of passion, and became instead the reality: a man. Her client. Dimitrios Konstantino.

“Oh, shit.” She blinked up at him, frowning in confusion. “That really shouldn’t have happened.”

But his hand stroked her cheek, calming her, his eyes roaming her face. “You agreed, ‘no regrets’.”

She swallowed hard. “I don’t regret it,” she promised, heat flushing her cheeks. “I really don’t. I’m glad. I’m so glad. I have hated the fact that Jaxon was the last guy I—you know, was intimate with.” Her eyes dipped lower, to his impossibly sculpted chest. “But you’re my client, and this is really, seriously unprofessional. I don’t want you to think this is how I go about business. It’s really, really not.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean, you must think the worst of me. How could you not?”

“Because I know you.”

“You don’t.” She rejected that very idea. “We just met.”

His jaw tightened in that way he had, physically holding back whatever he wanted to say. “Your reputation is excellent. I asked around.”