“You’re a very smart woman, Maggie. I want you to know that I respect you. I don’t want you to doubt that after all the dirty things I’m going to do to you.”

“Less talking, more dirty,” she said, yanking her shirt over her head.

He could love her, he realized on the spot. That smart mouth that made his blood sing. Her tentative trust in him. The body that tortured him every day and night since he’d met her.

“Finally,” he said, pressing his face to the valley between her breasts. Curves full and round, barely contained by the most useless bra in the history of breast support. The tiny swatch of sheer fabric in the middle begged to be destroyed. He wanted to buy her a dozen of them just so he could tear them off of her.

She felt like magic in his arms. Magic and a desire so deep he knew that once wouldn’t be enough. One hundred times wouldn’t be enough.

He toppled them onto the bed, pressing her into the mattress and reveling in the feel of her under him. His cock throbbed painfully.

Slow the fuck down, he warned himself. But that voice didn’t take into consideration just how many damn times he’d fantasized about this exact moment. Lying here on this bed, hand fisted around his erection, knowing it would never be as good as the real thing.

“Sy,” she breathed, rolling her hips against him.

He cupped a hand under each breast and slowly slid his palms higher.

Her back arched, pushing those perfect globes into his hands. He brushed both straps down her shoulders. It was the last gentle move he was capable of because Maggie raised onto her elbows and gave him access to the clasp of her bra.

Finally. His blood seemed to chant the word over and over again as it pooled and pulsed in his cock. He wasn’t conscious of dragging the bra off her. But the moment he filled his work-hardened palms with her breasts would be burned into his memory forever. Perfection. Soft, heavy perfection. She fit his hands just right.

Every inch of her was a miracle, a wonder of his personal world.

She let out a ragged moan that he silenced with a kiss. His cock ached as he ground against her. He was hanging on by a thread, the leash on his control was stretched to the breaking point. But he couldn’t stop, couldn’t slow down. Not now.

His eager thumbs brushed over those rosy, erect nipples. It wasn’t enough to just feel her; he needed to taste.

“More?” His whisper was harsh as he trailed teeth and tongue down her neck, over her shoulder.

“Please. Yes. More,” she hissed.

Maggie Nichols was begging him for more.