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“Can you take it?” he whispers, and I have no idea what he’s talking about. He bends down and lightly bites on the hard bud, making me cry out. “Do you want it rough?” he breathes, and I shudder.

“Yes.”

He suckles on it, his finger dragging through my wet folds, pushing inside me, and I can’t believe how close I am already, my legs trembling, my stomach tightening.

“Will you take me?” He licks at me, rough strokes of his tongue. “As I am?”

I can’t speak. My only answer is a loud gasp as he pushes a second finger inside me, and I scream as I come apart, clawing at the sofa cushions and shaking. My body writhes beneath him, and he pins me with his mouth still on my hypersensitive flesh, his fingers still hooked inside me.

He’s watching me from under lowered lashes. He gives me one final lick that makes me moan and jerk, and a corner of his mouth tips up in a crooked grin.

“A preview,” he whispers and winks.

“Really.” I pant, my body a liquid puddle of satisfaction. “Bringing on the big guns now?”

“One big gun.” He licks his lips. “A loose cannon.”

I’m not sure if he’s talking about his cock anymore or about himself. It sounds like he’s asking me if I can take him with his past and his issues.

I push at his chest and, caught by surprise, he lets me shove at him until he sits back on his heels. He’s beautiful, every bare inch of him, from his scars, to his tattoos, to the muscled perfection of his chest and his flushed cock.

“I can take it,” I say and stare him dead in the eye. “I can see you, Tyler Grayson, and I want you as you are.”

Something flashes through his eyes, something vulnerable and fragile, then it’s gone, and he crashes his mouth to mine, grabbing my hips and falling back, pulling me with him. I land on top of him where he is stretched out on the couch, and he keeps kissing me as I straddle his waist, trapping his erection between us.

His body tenses underneath mine, and his hips buck upward. He gasps in my mouth when I rock against him, sliding my wetness over the length of his hard cock. I remember the way his face twisted when I jacked him off in the bathroom at Damage, the way he handed over the control to me, trusting himself in my hands, and another hot wave of desire rushes through me.

I finally break the kiss for some much needed air. I sit back and wrap my fingers around Tyler’s hot, slick cock.

He arches under me, his eyes closing, his head falling back. “Erin,” he moans my name, and his hands fist at his sides when I squeeze him with all my power. “Fuck…”

“What about you?” I don’t even know why I’m asking when I still haven’t told him everything, but fear squeezes my chest. I don’t know what I’ll do if he walks away again. “Will you take me as I am?”

I slide my hand up, all the way to the weeping head of his erection, then back down and am rewarded with a litany of bitten-out curses. Tyler’s muscled stomach tenses, every ab coming into sharp relief. His cock twitches in my hand. He’s about to come, I know it. I know his body, his face that is now locked in a grimace. He’s trying to hold back his orgasm—but he’s literally in my hands now. If I squeeze a tiny fraction harder, if I tease his balls, he’ll lose all control.

I release him, and he lets out a choked sound, caught between frustration and relief. “Do you want me with my past and my baggage?” I raise myself on my knees. “Will you stay this time?”

His breathing is shallow and ragged. His gaze flicks from my breasts to my face, and he reaches for me. He grips my hips. “Erin… It’s you I’ve always wanted, just as you are.”

My heart stutters. If only you knew…

I must tell him. This can’t go on, this uncertainty, this secret between us. I place my hands on either side of him and lean forward, to say the words, to let the secret out into the light, but the head of his cock pokes my wet opening, and we both gasp.

I’m poised over him. We’re frozen in space and time, staring into each other’s eyes, my hair curtaining us, separating us from the rest of the world.

Then he pulls me down, slowly, impaling me on his cock. My mouth falls open as I take him in, feeling him stretch me, filling me up like no one else can. Pressure is building inside me again, so fast I can hardly keep my eyes from rolling back in my head.

Cords are standing out in Tyler’s neck. His teeth are bared, his jaw clenched, but the hands holding my hips, steering my body downward, are firm and steady, tugging me lower still, so that he slips another inch inside me, and another. Until he’s sheathed inside me fully.

The air leaves his lungs in a hiss, and his neck arches. I bow my head, trying to breathe around him. I swear I feel him deeper than ever before. He’s a lot to take in, but if anyone can, I can.

Because I love him. Love everything about him.

His hands urge me to rise, and the friction where I’m burning with my need for him sends stars shooting across my vision. I think I whisper his name as he pulls me back down, and I bend over him, trembling. Bracing my hands on either side of his head, I start moving. I can’t remember ever doing it this way, but my body knows what to do. I rise and fall, excruciatingly slow, needing to feel everything, the delicious torture of the press and glide of his cock against my slick inner walls. I wish this could last forever, this sensation of him in me, this closeness.

His hands slide up my sides and then to my front, stroking my breasts. When he flicks his thumbs over the tips, my insides clench, hard, and his cock jerks, trapped inside me. Tyler shifts beneath me, groaning, and pinches my nipples again.

My orgasm grips my core like a vise, and I clamp around his arousal as my whole body contracts, wracked by burning waves of pleasure.

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