“Good,” he said and lifted her leg even more. With one swift movement, he had her thigh hitched over his shoulder. Most of her weight shifted over to him, a feeling he gloried in much more than he probably should have. “Now hold still, will you? I want to do this right.”

“You can’t possibly hold me—” she began, but he could and he did.

With one hand pressed flat against her bare belly, he anchored her in place. He also anchored himself to her with a kiss pressed at the juncture of her thighs. One taste, one lick, one swirl of his tongue against her clit, and all arguments came to an end.

She whimpered and arched her back, causing her legs to open wider and allow him better access to the sweet heat of her.

“Oh, dear,” she moaned as his kisses intensified, his tongue seeking purchase everywhere it landed. “Harrison, I think I changed my mind about that ravishing thing. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

He paused long enough to give her a moment to back out, a moment to give up on him, but she didn’t. She only kept clinging to his hair like a woman about to fall off a precipice, her eyes glazed with desire and something more.

“You took me at my worst, Sophie,” he said, though he didn’t know how much of it she heard. “You can take anything.”

Her moans gave way to whimpers, which soon transformed to an increasingly low humming sound as she neared orgasm. That was the part of her he wanted to taste most, so he pressed one last kiss against her clit, holding the pressure there until she came. She shook and cried out, her grip on his hair so strong he couldn’t have pulled away even if he wanted to.

He didn’t want to though. He wanted to stay there, on his knees before this woman, buried in the sweet, glorious heat of her forever.

Forever.

That word rattled him almost as much as Sophie’s body quivering against his lips. He wanted her with him for everything—not just while puppy training lasted, and not for a few hot weeks while his life settled back into a semblance of normal.

He didn’t just like Sophie Vasquez.

He fucking loved her.

That thought shook him even more than the feel of her orgasm crashing tight and hot against his lips. It was the worst possible moment for such a life-altering realization. He should have been reveling in her body, tossing her to the mattress and making love to her until neither of them could stand anymore.

Not clutching her legs like he’d never touch her again. Not feeling—for some inexplicable reason—like all he wanted to do was cry.