Page 48 of Dare Me To Want You


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“Condom,” he rasped.

“I’m clean.” Her lips brushed his with every word. “And...well, I’m on birth control.”

He went still. “What are you saying?” There was no room for misunderstanding—not here, not now.

Lucy kissed one side of his mouth and then the other. “If...”

“I’m clean. I haven’t been with anyone since the last time I was tested.” He hadn’t done anything to disabuse her of the notion since it’d be wasted breath, but Gideon hadn’t had much interest in sleeping around in the last couple of years. He hadn’t been celibate, but the demon driving him had disappeared right around the time Lucy had vanished from his life.

“I don’t want barriers between us. I want you—all of you.”

He wanted that, too. So bad, he could fucking taste it. “You’re sure.”

She wedged her hand between them and stroked his cock once, twice, before guiding him to her entrance. “I’m sure.”

He didn’t ask again. Gideon kissed her as he slid into her, inch by inch. There were no words to express his feelings at her trust in him. From the very beginning, she’d trusted him, but this was something else entirely. He kissed her with everything he had, everything he couldn’t say. And then he began to move.

She rose to meet each thrust, their bodies moving in a dance as old as time, neither of them willing to break the kiss. He laced his fingers through her hair to tip her face for a better angle. She raked her nails over his ass, urging him to move faster, harder.

It was like flipping a switch.

He froze for one eternal second. Lucy nipped his bottom lip. “Stop being so careful with me. I can take it.”

He knew that. Of course he knew that. Gideon tightened his grip on her hair with one hand, tilting her head to the side so he had access to her neck. He dragged his mouth down the line and then bit her shoulder. “Teeth?”

“Yes.” She let loose a shaky laugh. “Just don’t mark up where anyone can see.”

Which was as good as saying that she did want him to mark her somewhere.

Gideon rolled onto his back, taking her with him, and slammed her down onto his cock. “Fuck me.” He sat up enough to palm her breasts as she did what he commanded. Gideon sucked her nipple hard, urged on by her fingers in his hair and her hips slamming down onto him again and again. He took as much of her breast into his mouth as he could and bit her. Lucy cried out, her pussy squeezing him as she came.

He wasn’t through.

He flopped her onto her stomach and yanked her to the edge of the bed. Gideon guided his cock back into her, paused to kick her feet a little wider and press his hand to the small of her back, and then he started to move.

He fucked her. There was no other word for it. She wanted it hard, and her hands fisting her comforter and the cries slipping from her lips only drove him on. He became a wild thing, slamming into her over and over again, driven toward a release he couldn’t have stopped if he’d tried.

It wasn’t enough. He was so damn close, and it wasn’t enough.

Gideon covered her with his body, reaching around to bracket her throat with one hand while he slipped the other between her thighs and pinched her clit. “You’re mine, Lucy. Mine.” The move bent her backward and she twisted to give him her mouth.

“Yes, yes.” She bucked against him, grinding herself against his hand. “Yours. Always. God, Gideon, don’t stop.”

“Never. I’ll never fucking stop.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A LAZY SUNDAY morning was the only thing Gideon wanted, but he’d agreed to breakfast with Roman weeks ago. He left Lucy a note and brewed her a pot of coffee before heading out. An hour—two, tops—and he’d be back with her. Simple.

He still had to talk himself out of turning around seven different times during the cab ride—and again when he climbed out onto the sidewalk. The limited timeline Lucy gave him rattled around in his head, and he had the irrational fear that if he didn’t spend every second with her that he could scrape out, it wouldn’t be enough and she’d leave.

She’s not leaving yet. I have time.

Not enough. Never enough.

Roman stood outside the little hole-in-the-wall place, staring at a pair of guys smoking just down the way. Gideon stopped next to him. “You quit.”

“I know that. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss it sometimes.”

“Miss the ability to breathe a whole lot more when you end up with lung cancer.”

Roman rolled his hazel eyes. “Yeah, got it. Thanks, Mom.”

“How’s your mother doing?”

“Same as always. Just swimmingly, darling.” He gave a spot-on impression of his mother’s breathy, high voice. Roman opened the door. “She and my old man are on that goddamn yacht somewhere. The Caribbean this week—either Saint Lucia or Jamaica.”

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