“Don’t tease me.” His hand slides along my hip, then curves lower.

“Or what?” I whisper coyly. “I’ll earn myself another one of those ‘love taps’?”

A low groan rumbles in his throat. Then in one smooth motion, he flips me on my stomach, hoists up my hips. His palm lands on a swift, sweet smack of my ass that makes me moan like I’m dying. If you can die of pleasure, I just have.

“That’s what you needed, hmm?” he says, kissing his way up my back, his hand smoothing my ass, warming it.

I nod feverishly. “More.”

“We’ll see.” His voice is rough, but his mouth is sweet, his touch sweeter, coaxing from me a sharp, glorious orgasm. I’m still dazed with bliss as I hear him behind me, stroking himself with lube before he eases himself inside on one slow roll of his hips. We both gasp when I’m filled with every inch of him.

“I love you,” I whisper through tears, through joy that’s a sunrise in my soul.

I’m spun again, his body plunging into mine, his arms around me. “Bea.” His voice is hoarse, his hands finding mine and linking them together over my head. “Mon cœur.”

The bed creaks. Air flies out of me as he takes me, with each deep stroke that sends pleasure racing through me, hot, shivering, sharp and needy between my thighs, aching in my breasts. Everywhere we touch and taste, sharing breath and pleas and promises.

The ache inside me coils tighter, leads me to a height so high I’m as terrified as I am thrilled to know that soon I’ll fall.

I lock my legs around his waist, feel his rhythm falter, feel him swell inside me.

“Come for me, Bea.” His teeth graze my throat, chased by a long, hot kiss. “That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me.”

As I bow off the bed and shatter, free-fall, soar, Jamie follows me.

—

“Your Pine-Sol tea, sir.” I set Jamie’s cat-shaped teacup on the nightstand, my matching coffee mug beside his.

He smiles up at me, still shirtless, hair mussed, glistening with sweat, a flush on his cheeks. A portrait I’ll paint titled Satisfied.

Thinking of that reminds me—

“Where are you going?” he says. His voice is low and quiet and a little rough, how I’m starting to learn it turns when he wants me.

I glance over my shoulder from my bent-over position, rifling through my jacket for my phone. “I have something to show you.”

“Whatever it is, it can’t top my current view.”

Smiling, I stand and tug down his undershirt, which I’m wearing and which barely covers my butt. “I don’t know about that.”

I leap onto the mattress, straddling his lap, and give Jamie a slow, hot kiss. “Here. For you.”