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“Am I going to have another orgasm?” she asks quietly.

I shake my head as I drop my tongue to her stomach. “Two.”

“Three?” she asks hopefully. “In a row?”

I stop what I’m doing to press a kiss to the top of her mound. “Are we negotiating, Miss Voss?”

Under heavy lids, she looks at me. “Is it possible to have three in a row?”

I’ve never focused my attention on a woman long enough to know the answer to that question. “We’re about to find out.”

I dip my tongue down to draw a lazy path over her cleft. Her legs fall open, revealing her pretty pink pussy.

My breath catches when her hand drops into my hair. “I love when you do this to me.”

I love what you do to me.

I hold those words on the tip of my tongue as I pleasure the woman I love, hoping that tonight is the first of a lifetime of moments just like this.

Chapter 52

Arietta

“Get dressed,” Dominick whispers in my ear. “Now, Arietta.”

I fumble around in the darkness trying to find him. I must have dozed off after he ate me out. He proved that it’s possible for me to have three orgasms in a row.

I finally find the light next to my bed. I tap the base to turn it on.

I shake my head when I realize that everything is crystal clear. I’m still wearing my contact lenses. My eyes are going to hate me in the morning.

I look to where Dominick is standing next to my bed. He’s wearing his pants and white button-down shirt. The collar is unbuttoned, and the sleeves rolled up.

His hair is mussed.

“Come back to bed,” I purr, rolling over.

His gaze drops to my ass. “You have no fucking idea how tempted I am to do that.”

“So do it,” I challenge.

“After you come with me.” He holds out a hand.

“Where?”

He takes both my hands to pull me up to my feet. He picks up my tank top and yoga shorts from the floor. Silently, he guides me to put them on, tugging the fabric of the shorts up my legs.

“I’m tired.” I laugh. “You left me with no energy.”

“I’ll carry you,” he says before he scoops me up like a bride.

Swatting his shoulder, I shake my head. “No. Tell me first where we’re going.”

He kisses me so tenderly that time stands still for the briefest of seconds. “We’re going to the roof.”

“Why?”

Moving toward my bedroom door, he motions to the doorknob. “Open the door for me. “

He dips me in that direction, so I do as asked. Dudley greets us immediately with a few jumps that land against Dominick’s legs.

“I took him for a walk,” he says casually. “He was whining by the apartment door.”

I glance at the floor but only catch a fleeting glance of Dudley’s back as he circles Dominick’s feet. “I didn’t hear him whining.”

“You were asleep,” he points out. “I found his leash and your keys on the foyer table, so I took him down for a walk and then paid Ricky to give me a key to the door that leads up to the roof.”

“Wait,” I say. “Back up.”

Dominick does exactly what I say. He backs up one step. With a huge smile on his face, he kisses me.

“You paid the doorman to give you a key to the roof?”

He nods. “Five hundred dollars.”

My eyes widen. “Five hundred dollars? Why would you do that?”

“You’ll see,” he says with a wink of his eye. “Dudley will wait here for us.”

He turns to the dog and orders him to sit in a soft tone.

Dudley listens for the first time ever. I laugh.

I hang tightly to the man I adore as he takes us out of my apartment and to the elevator that leads to the top floor and the door marked ‘ROOF’ that is always locked.

***

I’m grateful for the pouring rain because I know that Dominick can’t tell that I’m crying.

These are tears of joy.

I hold tightly to him as he spins me around in a puddle. We both have bare feet, but the smooth concrete makes for a perfect dance floor as the moon shines down on us through the rain.

The thunder in the distance is muted by the music streaming from the phone in Dominick’s pocket.

I recognize the song immediately.

It’s Precious Beats by Asher Foster.

I listened to this song on repeat during the bus ride that brought me to New York City from Buffalo.

Dominick clears his throat. “You’re the arrow I follow.”

My lips part. This can’t be real. He’s singing along to the lyrics.

“I’ll take my chances on you over and over again.”

I mouth the words as he belts them out in a strangled, off-pitch tone.

He swings me around again, making me feel as though I’m light on my feet and in the middle of a movie scene.

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