I open my mouth with a sassy comeback. Something like, “I’ll do my best.” Instead, I end up moaning as he pushes against me.

“Open,” he orders, lifting me higher.

I wrap my arms around his neck, holding on tighter. “Oh.”

“Shh,” he reminds me.

“You feel so good,” I whisper. Good god, how did I survive the last couple days without him? Suddenly sex with Z is as necessary as air and water.

He fucks with slow movements, leaning back to stare down at where we’re joined. His thumb finds my clit and he rubs in time with his thrusts.

Delicious pleasure builds, everything inside me feels tight, urgent, ready to explode.

Finally, I break, shattering like pieces of glass showering down around us. I’m panting with the effort of swallowing down my cries of ecstasy.

“Fuuuck,” Z grits out in a low rasp. His eyes clench shut and he groans against my mouth. “My siren,” he whispers as his movements still. “You’re going to kill me.”

“I love you too much to kill you.”

His eyes open and he stares at me with lazy, loving, satisfaction, slowly kissing my cheek and forehead.

“I think you made more noise than I did.”

He chuckles as he pulls back. “Maybe.”

Slowly, I release my stranglehold on him. He glances over his shoulder and swipes his hand over a spot on his back. Blood’s smeared on his fingers. “You ripped me open, Siren.”

“I’m so sorry. You had me hanging on for dear life.”

He swoops in and kisses my forehead. “Don’t be sorry. It’s hot.”

After we both clean up again, Z follows me into my bedroom, watching me get dressed.

“Are you planning to go to dinner in a towel tonight?”

He glances down. “If you want me to strip, just say so, pretty girl.”

“Oh, I’d have you walking around naked all day if I could. Only for me, though.” I wink at him.

Z seems to glow from the compliment, something I find endearing. As soon as we’re both dressed, he pulls me into the living room.

“Come here, I have something for you.”

Still weak-kneed and wearing a love-drunk smile, I follow him. “You already gave me plenty.”

His dimples are on full display. “I’ll give you that anytime you want.” He leans over, plucking his leather cut off the couch and pulls a small, flat white box out of an inside pocket. “This is something special I saw and thought of you.”

“Oh.” My breath catches.

Z’s always been thoughtful. Several times in the few years we’ve known each other, he’s surprised me with small things he knows I’ll like. This doesn’t feel small, though.

It feels profound.