She barely comprehended the words because he’d added yet another finger. Her walls gripped the digits as her body chased the pleasure again. When he circled her clitoris with his tongue, her hands clasped his head, holding him in place. “Oh, God, Clay.”

Suddenly, he was crawling over her, the muscles in his arms flexing as he drew closer. “Come here, you delectable creature.” Sliding her legs wider with his thighs, he took his shaft in his hand and notched it to her entrance. “Changed your mind yet?”

She smiled at this familiar question. “Do you ever expect the answer to be yes?”

The side of his mouth hitched, but he said nothing as he pushed the crown of his penis inside. He concentrated intently on where their bodies were joining, while she watched his face. The angles were sharper but no less beautiful. He was remarkable to look at, really. Strong shoulders, flat stomach. A powerful chest dusted with dark hair. A beautiful specimen of a man, even with the scars and a nose almost too big for his face.

He was perfectly imperfect, and she found him fascinating.

There was no pain this time, only pressure from his wide shaft spreading her open. Filling her. He seemed in no hurry, his bulk easily supported by his arms, with the pace agonizingly slow. No doubt this was for her benefit, to not hurt her again, and the consideration surprised her. Other lovers had rushed their encounters, her enjoyment not a concern.

Until now, she’d believed that normal. Goodness, she’d missed out on quite a lot.

His dark gaze peered at her face. “All right?”

She nodded, not sure she was capable of words at the moment. He was so deep inside her, his heat and strength a part of her, and it strangely wasn’t enough. She trembled with the need for more. Her hands found his shoulders and gripped hard.

“You’re tight,” he gritted out just before withdrawing a tiny amount. He slid back in and then grunted. “Damn, Florence.”

His mouth covered hers in a fierce kiss, his tongue sliding to find hers, their breath mingling as he began to roll his hips. She could smell and taste herself on his skin, the spicy wetness he’d licked like ice cream. It was brash and earthy, much more sensual than she’d imagined. She clung to him as he worked his shaft in and out of her body, dragging the hard flesh over the walls of her channel, making her light-headed. Everything inside her strained toward him, her body desperate and hungry for more.

Breaking off from her mouth, he kissed her cheek, her jaw. He dragged her earlobe between his teeth. Then he pressed hot, openmouthed kisses along her neck, sucking on the skin, tasting her. Biting her. It was like he wanted to devour her. She panted as pleasure streaked through her, building. Careening toward the precipice.