Before I could protest, he flipped me around and pushed me toward the wall. My chest and palms were flat against the paint, and I grinned.

Thomas put his hand on my cheek, and I turned just enough to kiss his fingertips. Then, I opened my mouth, letting him slip a finger inside. I pulled back, sucking lightly, and he sighed.

He gently ran his thumb down the line of my jaw, my neck, and then my shoulder. From there, he slid his palm down the length of my spine, over the curves of my backside, and then settled between my thighs. He put gentle pressure on one of my legs, guiding it away from the other. I gladly spread them apart and then placed my palms on the wall, bracing myself, as he yanked my hips back.

With his hand, he slowly guided himself inside me. He didn’t pull out. Instead, he moved his hips in a subtle circular motion, savoring the warm sensation of my embrace.

He gripped my hip with one hand and reached around with the other, touching the most sensitive parts of my skin. He moved his middle finger in small circles, and then he pulled back his hips. He groaned as he rocked against me.

I bent over, pressing my backside against him, allowing Thomas to sink himself as deeply as he wanted.

With every thrust, his thick fingers dug into my thighs, guiding me to the very edge of pleasure. I bit my lip, forbidding myself to cry out, and just as a thin sheen of sweat formed on my skin, we tumbled over together.

Chapter Eighteen

I REACHED ACROSS THOMAS’S BARE CHEST to turn off the obnoxious noise coming from his cell phone. The movement made evident the soreness and swelling between my legs from the hours of sex the night before, and I rested my head on his rippled abdomen, smiling at the memories flashing in my mind.

Thomas stretched, his legs too long for the bed. The sheets rustled as he stirred, and I ran my fingers over his soft skin, surrounded by the trinkets and trophies of his childhood.

With sleepy eyes, he took one look at me and smiled. He tugged on me until we were face-to-face, and then he wrapped both of his arms around my shoulders, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

I kissed the crown of his head and hummed in total satisfaction. No one had ever made me feel so right about being wrong.

“Morning, baby,” Thomas said, his voice sounding strained and hoarse. He rubbed his feet on mine as he carefully raked my ratted hair away from my face. “I probably shouldn’t assume, but being a woman married to her career…”

“Yes,” I said. “Birth control is in place and good for five years.”

He kissed my cheek. “Just checking. I might have gotten a little carried away last night.”