“Don’t move quite yet,” he said. “I want to remember this.”

Leaning forward, I gently pressed my lips to his. His hand wrapped around the back of my head, and he kissed me deeply, his tongue moving against mine. Soon, I couldn’t hold back any longer. The feeling of him deep inside me was downright overwhelming, and I needed more.

I’d always need more now.

We’d barely just begun, and I thought it was safe to say, Roman Cavenaugh had ruined me for all other men.

“Fuck,” he groaned as the motion of my hips grinding against his own took over.

My head fell back, and the new bout of confidence I’d gained took over. My eyes fluttered shut, and I just let myself go. Over and over, I rode his cock until I was breathless, and he was nearly manic with hunger.

Just like before, with little effort, he flipped us. One moment, I had been above him, and the next, he was towering above me.

“You drive me insane, you know that? What I just saw? I never expected that. That my good little Midwestern girl could be so dirty. So, now… now, I’m going to fuck you, Cara, like the dirty little girl I know you are.”

I didn’t like the cocky bedroom voice anymore.

Nope, not at all.

I fucking loved it.

And, as his body slammed into mine and I cried out his name like a prayer, I knew.

I knew this was what I’d come to New York for.

Not the sex—although that was on the forefront of my mind at the current moment—but him.

Roman.

I’d come to New York for this brutish, arrogant, wonderful man.

He wasn’t a rebound or a bad late-night decision.

He was it. The other half to my weird, complicated puzzle.

Now, to just convince him of that.

Was there some sort of diagnosable disorder that caused a person to relive amazing, mind-blowing sex over and over?

If so, I had it.

I had it in spades.

It had only been a couple of hours, and my mind was on eternal repeat. Every touch, every lingering kiss. The way he’d moved, thrusting over and over into me without relenting.

My body had shattered into the most delicious, life-altering release, I’d thought, surely, when I opened my eyes, I’d find angels and fluffy white clouds.

Yeah, it was that good.

And now it was all I could think about.

Sex.

Sex with Roman.

Never-ending sex with Roman.

“Did you hear me?” His voice echoed through the lust haze.

“What?” I said, turning to him after realizing I’d been staring at the coffee pot as it gurgled out its last bit of coffee.