He took his time kissing his way back up her body so by the time his lips were brushing along the ridge of her throat, she’d finally come back to herself.

“See,” he said, lifting his head, his smile big and smug, the firelight softening the hardness of his features. “It’s much better when I don’t talk.”

He looked cocky and sexy and his dick was still hard and pressing into her side and damn if she didn’t want to show him how the two—sex and talking—weren’t necessarily exclusive. Pushing on the center of his chest, she followed as he fell to his back; then she straddled his hips, settling herself over his hardness, her hair falling lightly against her shoulders.

“If you were a woman,” she said, reaching over to snag a condom off her bag about a foot from his head, “you could do both.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “That a fact?”

“It is,” she said and proved how skilled she was by giving a running commentary as she opened the foil with her teeth and pulled out the condom and applied it to his cock with expert precision.

He sucked in a breath as she positioned him at her center. “Impressive.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” And slowly but surely, she sank down over him, taking all his rampant hardness into the tight sheath of her sex, reveling in the stretch and the fullness as she took him all the way to the hilt.

“God.” He groaned as his hands glided up her ribs to her breasts, cupping them. “You’re beautiful.”

His fingers brushing her nipples was exquisite, and she wanted nothing more than to let her head loll back and enjoy, but she was trying to make a point. “I have a plain face, and I’m too curvy,” she dismissed.

“No,” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”

Suzanne’s breath caught in her throat. He said it so reverently, she actually believed him.

Looking down at herself, at the way his work-calloused hands covered her smooth, pale breasts so possessively, was arousing on a whole new level.

She’d never wanted to be possessed by a man before, but hell if she didn’t want to be branded all over by this man. She moved then, circling her hips, needing to steer them away from useless thoughts she didn’t know what to do with. Sliding her finger to the puckered wound near his collarbone, she said, “Tell me what happened.”

He squeezed her breasts, pinched the nipples. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“I’m a little busy here.”

Suzanne smiled as she leaned into his hands, angling her body for freer movement. “Multitask,” she murmured as she eased herself off him a little, then back down again, her pulse tripping, her body shuddering at how damn good he felt sliding in and out.

He shuddered, too. “Wrong place, wrong time,” he said on a harshly expired breath.