He dips his head and burrows his face against my neck, trailing kisses there until he nips at me in frustration. Then, in just a few steps, he walks us back to the wall that separates his foyer from the living area, and the change in location flips a switch in my brain. This isn’t maybe we will; it’s we absolutely are—right now.

“Give me a sec,” he says. “I need to grab protection.”

“Hurry,” I whisper, my voice tight and urgent.

He’s gone in a flash and returns just as quickly, a look of intense concentration on his handsome face as he crowds me. “Where were we?”

“I was going to touch you,” I say.

“Christ, touch me as much as you want.”

I don’t hesitate to take him up on his offer, and I’m not subtle about my intentions either. I unsnap the top button of his jeans and pull his zipper down. “May I?”

“Hell yes, you may.”

I reach into his boxer briefs and run my hand along his rigid cock, my gaze never leaving his. Dean’s stance falters, and he squeezes his eyes shut as though he’s experiencing the very definition of exquisite torture and wants to block everything else out so he can focus on nothing else.

Eyes still closed, he bends his knees and kisses me, and I use that opportunity to switch places and guide him so that his back is pressed against the wall.

When we come up for air, he stares at me, his eyes drowsy with lust.

“You’re so hot,” I whisper, stroking his thick erection with a firm grip. “And so hard. I can feel you pulsing against the palm of my hand. I can’t wait to get you inside me.”

“Holy shit, Solange,” he growls. “You’re going to make me combust even before that happens.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

“No, we can’t.” His big hands travel up the outsides of my thighs, taking the soft fabric of my dress with them, until he stops at my hips and massages me tenderly. The faster I stroke, though, the more frantic his touch gets. Seconds pass before his legs collapse under him, and he slides to the ground, using the wall to break his fall. I’m right there with him, clumsily sinking to my knees, then straddling him, a flimsy swatch of lace and his jeans the only material between us.

I put out my palm, the anticipation of being fully seated on his cock almost too much to bear. “Condom.”