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She gapes, seemingly stunned. “That would be like marrying a tiger.”

“Because I’d be panting, pawing, and eating you every night?” I back her against the shower wall, skimming my lips across her jaw.

She rolls her eyes. “There you go again, making everything about sex. I meant that I’d have to be crazy to marry you.”

I brace my palms beside her head and lean in. “Maybe. But you’d never be bored.”

“And you would, so you would never be faithful.”

“Oh, you’re wrong, princess. I would be the most devoted husband you can imagine.”

Corinne scoffs. “It’s easy to say that when you don’t have to prove it. You’ve slept with most of the women you’ve met, so I know better than to believe you’ll stick to just one. It’s the reason players like you don’t marry good girls like me. Why are we even having this conversation?”

She still has no idea?

Fuck it. This argument isn’t getting me anywhere. Maybe some nonverbal communication will.

“Never mind. You wanted to touch me? Bring it on.”

“I’m not in the mood anymore.”

I send her a dirty smile. “Let me fix that.”

She opens her mouth to protest. I curl my hand behind her nape, maneuver her face under mine, and seize her lips. She stiffens. I half expect her to shove me away or knee me in the balls. Instead, she softens before slowly, slowly opening to me. Our tongues touch. She quickly retreats…then tentatively slides hers against mine again. Her breathing changes. Her head tilts. She deepens the exchange. Finally, she moans, loops her arms around my neck, and unabashedly sinks into the kiss.

With a groan, I press her into the tile, gripping her as if I can’t get close enough, like I’ll die if I don’t have her. It sure feels that way. All it takes for me to want Corinne is a glance, a touch, a whiff of that heady female scent. Hell, just thinking about her gets me fucking hot.

My skin is plastered against hers, but we’re still not close enough. Cupping her face, I lose myself in her, eating at her mouth possessively. Against me, she turns restless, grabbing and scratching and writhing for more. I’m already halfway to losing my head when she reaches between us and grips my cock with an earnest, inexpert stroke.

Electric need shoots up my spine. “Jesus, princess… I want you so fucking bad.”

I’ve been aching since the bar.

“You don’t need to give me your rehearsed lines to entice me to say yes. Just kiss me.”

Corinne thinks she’s like all the others to me? Nothing could be further from the truth.

“I’m not only going to make you come, I’m going to make you think.”

“About what?” she pants.

“Everything.”

I refuse to spell it out. Confessing what I’m feeling when she’s been crying for another man…no. I’m fearless in moneymaking. I will go balls to the wall for an investment I believe in—all day, every day. But pouring out my heart isn’t in my wheelhouse. The one time I tried it ended badly. Corinne doesn’t seem like the sort who would betray me by jumping ship at the first offer…but she might walk away because her heart was never mine.

I’d rather save myself the humiliation and let my body do the talking.

Spinning her around to face the wall, I cover her back with my chest, planting my lips against her neck and feeling my way down her body, from her engorged nipples so sensitive she whimpers when I roll them between my fingers, to the flat of her stomach, and finally to the soft cleft between her legs.

“You’re already wet for me,” I murmur.

“No.”

“Yes. And swollen, too.” I strum her clit with a barely there touch.

She presses her cheek against the cool tile and closes her eyes. “I was already wet. From earlier.”

“You cleaned up in the hotel bathroom. All this”—I insert my fingers between her folds, into her furrow, testing my way from her needy bud to her slick opening—“is new. It’s for me.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” I growl in her ear, settling my digits back over her clit. “Don’t lie to me. And don’t lie to yourself. Everything between us matters.”

Corinne gasps, rocking her hips against my touch. “Why?”

“You figure it out.” I nip my way across her shoulder, then up her neck, before settling against her ear. “While I make you claw the walls and scream your throat raw.”

“Xavian…”

“That’s right. I’m the man with my hand on your pussy. The only man who’s ever had his hands—and mouth—here. The only one who’s been inside you. The only one you’ve come for.”

The only one who’s ever loved you.

“Why? Why do you make me ache? Every single time you touch me, I”—she gasps—“melt for you.”

“You think about that.” I slide my free hand up her side to cradle her breast and work the hard tip.

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