“Liza,” he warned. And then she inhaled, making a needy noise that severed whatever discipline he’d still possessed. “Fuck,” he growled, pushing her to the sofa and following her down. He claimed her mouth, taking what he needed, and he wasn’t gentle.

She shoved her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer, reminding him that his Liza was strong. He needed more, needed to touch her, needed to see her. Needed to be inside her.

He tugged her shirt up, feeling the silky skin of her stomach. She shivered, wriggling beneath him.

“Ticklish?” he asked, loving the way her cheeks were flushed, her eyes gone dark with lust.

“Yes.” Her eyes narrowed. “And if you ever want to do any of those things you dreamed of, you won’t take advantage of that confession.”

Tom slid down her torso so that he could kiss the skin he’d bared. “Sorry,” he murmured, brushing his lips over her ribs, then upward, taking his time, smiling as her skin pebbled. Until she made another needy whimpering sound.

His kisses became openmouthed and urgent, his hips rolling and thrusting against the sofa cushions when he really needed to be rolling and thrusting into her. He shoved the hem of her shirt higher, going stock-still when he uncovered her bra.

He looked up to meet her eyes. She was watching him, her torso still. She was holding her breath. “I want to see you,” he said hoarsely. “Can I see you?”

“Yes. Please.”

He might have chuckled at her politeness, but she reached behind her to unhook her bra, and then he couldn’t breathe, either. Crossing her arms, she gripped the hem of her shirt and the bra together and pulled them off.

It took him a few heartbeats to find words. “You’re beautiful.”

Her lips curved self-consciously, but she said nothing.

He hung there, staring, torn between the urge to rush and take and taste and suck and the more overwhelming need to take his time. Carefully, reverently, he kissed the valley between her breasts and drew in her scent.

God. The delicate citrus of her bodywash was overpowered by the sweet, heady scent of her arousal. He was so hard that he hurt.

He kissed the underside of each breast. “I want you.” He kissed the swells, avoiding her nipples, hard and erect. Humming in frustration, she palmed his cheeks and tried to pull his mouth closer.

Her whisper was barely audible. “Suck me.”

Gently he grabbed her wrists, guiding them over her head and restraining them with one hand. “I only get this first time once,” he told her. “I don’t want to rush.”

She tipped her head back. “Tom,” she whined. “Don’t distract me with being all romantic.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No,” he agreed. “I’m not.” He licked one nipple and her mouth fell open.

“You’re a fucking tease,” she growled. “I didn’t expect—” She gasped when he closed his lips over the other nipple and sucked, her hips rocking up into him.