I drop her to her feet and turn her, trying not to be too rough. But . . . her breathing is heavy, her whimpers endless. Desperate. I grab the zipper on her dress and tug it down, pushing it from her body to the floor. The bra is next. Gone. And her skin? It glows, pulling my lips to the back of her neck. I kiss her gently, smiling when I feel her shudder, her neck flexing. She can’t cope. Me neither.

I turn my mouth into her ear. “Face me,” I whisper.

She’s looking at me quickly, her dark eyes blazing, and I lift her, setting her on the counter again. Her hands land on my shoulders. I quickly seize them and guide them down to the edge of the counter. “The hands stay here.” She’s going to need something to hold on to, and I can’t guarantee I’ll be stable enough. “Lift,” I order as I take the sides of her knickers, dragging them down her long legs.

And she’s naked. Gloriously naked. And I am held rapt by the vision of her sitting here on my countertop, waiting for me to blow her mind.

She reaches for my shirt, and I move back. What the fuck am I doing? Torturing myself? “Hands,” I order, and her bottom lip juts out. It’s cute. But I’m happy taking this part slowly. Happy to watch her gradually disintegrate with an impatience I’m all too familiar with. “You want me to remove my shirt?” I ask, casual but cocky.

“Yes.”

She’s out of breath. It’s too satisfying. “Yes, what?” I ask around my grin. She will beg for me. Make up for all the lost time and stress she’s caused.

“Please,” she virtually snarls, her eyes boring holes into my smug form. I give her what she wants and start unbuttoning. Slowly. Watching her. Relishing her building impatience.

I’m surprised she manages to restrain herself. I’d be damned if I could sit and watch her slowly strip. Has she suddenly become compliant?

I flex my shoulders and remove my shirt, kicking off my shoes and dipping to pull off my socks. And as I rise, I watch as her gaze falls to my stomach. I want to think she’s admiring my form. But I know different. I’m not up for questions on how I came to have a mammoth scar there, not now, so I move into her quickly, placing my hands on her thighs. I have her again, her attention diverted.