“Oh my God. Do you have a license to do that? You ought to be against the law.” She reached out and did what she had longed to do an hour ago: gently stroked his chest hair and then followed a path down to his groin. She found him thick, hard, and ready for her. He sucked in breath when she gently closed her fingers around him. “By the way,” she added cheerfully, if breathlessly, “I’m on to you. There’s no way you’re an ordinary guy. Not that I mind.”

He stiffened, though whether it was from what she had said or what her fingers were doing, she couldn’t tell. She was squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing. Her other hand slipped lower until she was cradling his testicles in her palm, testing their warm weight. “You’ve got a butterfly’s touch, Giselle sweetie,” he said, almost groaned.

She almost giggled. She’d never pictured her plump self as something so light and delicate as a butterfly. Alec was no doubt mumbling nonsense because all the blood had left his head some time ago and gone significantly southward.

She slipped her hand up, down, up, down, with excruciating slowness, with all the care he had shown her a few moments ago. She wasn’t terribly experienced, but she was well read. She’d been buying Emma Holly’s books for years. “That’s why you shouldn’t mess with a bookworm,” she whispered in Alec’s ear. “We know some pretty good stuff.” He didn’t answer her, but because she had brought her palm across his slippery tip and circled, circled, circled while her other hand stroked, she didn’t expect him to.

She had meant to keep playing with him as long as she could draw it out, but he suddenly jerked away from her and kneed her thighs apart. He was terse, silent, but oh, how his hands were shaking. “Shouldn’t you buy me dinner first? Again, I mea—eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEE!” He entered her with one brutal thrust, all the way, all at once. She was slick and more than ready for him, but it was startling—a little frightening, even—all the same.

He started to drive himself into her.

She squirmed beneath him, felt her eyes roll back in her head…ah, Jesus, this was almost too much! Almost. “Alec.”

His hips were shoving against hers, his eyes were tightly closed; his mouth was a narrow line.

“Alec.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. “M’sorry. Wait. I’ll be—nice again. In a minute.”

“Alec.”

“I can’t—stop. Just yet. S-Sorry. So sorry.” His hands were on her shoulders, pinning her down, keeping her in place for him. His sex was rearing between her legs, into her, out of her. Digging, shoving, filling her.

“Alec. If you do it a little faster, I’ll be able to come again.”