“Lynne.” Dom’s voice has an edge to it now. He is moving toward me, cornering me against a wooden fence. I feel so alive. Oxygen scorches its way to my lungs.

“Yeah?”

“I need a condom.”

“Not necessarily,” I say. “I got on the pill a year ago to control my cramps and breakout situation.”

“So you’re into dirty talk, huh?” He narrows his eyes. “You’re good at it.”

I let out a surprised laugh. “Oops. That’s the definition of TMI, isn’t it?”

He steps forward. I stumble back, liking this game. The chase.

“Nothing you say to me would be considered TMI. I want to know you better than you know yourself.”

Dom takes another step. My lower back bumps against the wooden fence. I’m breathless from giggling and swimming and kissing. Positively buzzed.

He boxes me in place, resting his hands on either side of me against the fence with surgical precision. His face is so close to mine I can taste his breath on my tongue. There’s nothing I want in this world more than to have sex with this man right now.

“I’m clean,” he croaks.

“Me too.”

“Are you . . . ?”

“A virgin?” I resist the urge to smile. “Sorry to disappoint, but no.”

“Just wanted to make sure. I’m not completely confident in my ability to be gentle right now.” He smiles sweetly. I reach for him between us, running my index finger along his shaft, stopping at the tip teasingly.

“Hmm, what do you know? Turns out you like me back.” I revisit our conversation in the witchery store all those weeks ago.

“Guilty as charged. I like you too much for my own good, Everlynne.”

Dom lowers me to a dune of sand, his mouth moving over my jaw, drifting lower. His tongue trails a hot line between my breasts and toward my navel. My fingers sink into his hair. We’re grainy and cold and drowning in this perfect moment.

He pries me open with his tongue, kissing me where I’m the neediest, where I ache for him. My legs fall open. I buck my hips forward, wanting more. He takes his time, licking leisurely, until I come undone, physically and emotionally, clutching his shoulders.

“Please, Dom.”

He lifts his body and slides into me without warning. Bare. Several seconds pass, but he doesn’t move inside me. I’m guessing he is giving me time to adjust. But then he starts kissing my face, and I realize to my horror that I’m crying.

“Sweet Lynne,” he whispers, capturing another tear between his lips. “I’m sorry the last few years have been hard for you. I’m here to change that. Trust me?”

Nodding yes in response, I kiss him back.

Maybe Dom does get me, because he knows I don’t want to stop. Instead of retreating, he starts driving into me harder and faster. It takes me a few moments to gather myself, but after a couple of thrusts, I begin to loosen up. To enjoy it.