“Ty,” he gasps.

“I need—”

“I know—”

“Please,” I beg and he groans.

“Not here,” he says. “Not here.”

Here is just fine with me. I lean forward again until our lips meet and I push down as hard as I can, but it’s not enough. I reach between us and fumble with the buttons to his jeans and my fingers hit the skin of his stomach and he grabs both my hands in with one of his, grips them tightly, and brings my arms up and over my head. My fingers scrape the roof of the car. I can’t move as he breathes heavily in my face.

“Inside,” he says, his voice a growl. “Not here.”

I nod. It’s the only thing I can do.

He opens the door and I move to slide off his lap (and run toward the house), but he only lets go of my hands, the rest of me still plastered to him. He moves one hand to my ass as he stands, lifting me up with him. I wrap my legs around his waist. There’s pressure building between us, and it hurts so wonderfully. He kicks the car door shut as he kisses me, and I tangle my hands in his hair. This is Dom. This is me and Dom.

I don’t know how he manages to open the door to the house with my tongue in his ear. I don’t know how we get inside with my dick pressing against his stomach. I don’t know how he navigates down the hall with his mouth on my neck, trailing his tongue down to the hollow of my throat. I don’t know how he does any of it. It doesn’t matter. I almost want to ask him if he sees the stars like I do, if they’re exploding for him like they are for me, but I can’t seem to find the words.

He lays me down onto his bed gently. He fills my world and he’s all I see. His eyes are so wide. His lips are wet and swollen. I still feel the burn of his stubble across my mouth. I’m shaking so hard I’m afraid I’ll break.

He places a lingering kiss on my forehead as he hovers above me. A kiss between my eyes. The tip of my nose. A brush against my lips. Our foreheads touch. “You’re shaking,” he says.

“Scared,” I admit.

“Of me?”

“Never of you.”

“Then?”

“What if I’m not good?”

“You’ve… never…?”

I’m embarrassed and try to look away, but he doesn’t let me. I close my eyes instead.

“Ty,” he says.

“Kill me now,” I mumble.

“Tyson.”

“What?”

“Never with Corey.”

“No.”

“Anyone else?”

“No.”

He sighs. “Oh, Ty.”

“What?”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

I’m crushed. “Then let me up,” I say. I need to leave. I need to run. I need to run so bad. I struggle, but it’s no use.

“No,” he says. “You didn’t hear me right. Open your eyes.”