He begins to push inside, and there’s a twinge of pain, but the pleasure overwhelms it. I arch into him, pushing back, inviting him in farther. I want more. I need more.

“Jesus, Holly. You’re so fucking tight.”

He slides in the last few inches until he’s seated all the way to the base. I shift my hips back again, pressing harder against him, and he reaches around my hip to find my clit. With two fingers teasing me, he slowly pulls out and begins to thrust.

Every movement triggers a new landslide of sensation within me. Pleasure ripples and squeezes and pulses through my body.

“Oh my God,” I whisper as Crey pinches my clit between two fingers and tugs, all while picking up the pace of his thrusts.

The more he plays with my clit, the faster he fucks, and my need drives higher and higher. He responds by giving me everything I need but didn’t know I needed before I can even think to voice it.

My mind seems to fracture under the onslaught of pleasure. Thoughts are impossible to grasp, not that I even want to think right now. I just want to feel. Which is good, because all I’m capable of is experiencing sensations.

And the sensation bearing down on me is a giant mother of an orgasm.

“Holy. Shit,” I scream, my voice breaking as I come apart and my arms collapse.

Crey keeps thrusting. Once. Twice. Three more times. And then the sound of my name coming off his lips echoes in the small room.

He drops but catches himself before he crushes me on the bed. The frame creaks beneath us, and we both freeze.

“Oh sh—” Crey doesn’t even get the word out before the bed collapses and we land with a thud as the mattress connects with the floor.

“Holy crap. And you didn’t even plan to screw me so hard we’d break my poor Jenny Lind bed.”

“Jenny who?” Crey asks, carefully pushing himself up off me, and reaching for a towel I didn’t notice earlier.

He pulls out of my body and I immediately feel the loss of him. The fullness was intense and amazing. He crouches down and cleans me up while I lay on the mattress, still boneless and unwilling to move, despite the destruction of the furniture.

“Jenny Lind. It was an antique. It was Gran’s bed when she was a girl. It was one of the few pieces I probably would have kept.”

“We’ll get it repaired. It’s no problem.”

I nod because he’s right. It really isn’t a problem.

“We’re just breaking furniture right and left. Going to have to make sure whatever we buy for our new place is sturdy,” Crey says.

I look sideways at him. “Our new place?”

“I think we need to buy a place in Nashville so we can have a home base there. We’ll keep my place in New York, and figure out something that works for both of us. As much as you don’t like the city, I do need to spend some time there. There are certain things I can do remotely, but I’m a hell of a lot more intimidating in person, and sometimes I need to throw my weight around to get shit done.”

Warmth fills my chest that he’s no longer dictating, but considering what’s best for me as well. “Thank you for trying to figure this out.”

He crouches again next to the bed. “I’d figure out how to move mountains for you, Holly.”

I close my eyes briefly before meeting his again. “I think I’m finally getting that.”

I reach for the blanket that’s scrunched up beside me, and flip around so I’m sitting on my butt before I pull it around me.

“Now, how do you feel about Dirty Scrabble?”

My stomach aches from laughing so hard, and I think it’s safe to say I’ve never felt that kind of ache before.

“C-U-N-T. Cunt. Triple-word score. Eighteen points.” Holly looks up at me, her eyes shining with what can only be called mirth. “I’m going to catch you. Fellatio as a double word was only four points more.”

“Sorry, sweetheart.” I shake my head, grinning as I lift my tiles and lay them on the board. “S-U-C-K-E-D. Another triple word.” I mentally calculate. “Thirty-nine points.”

“Damn it.”

Holly’s hands go to her hips, and she drops the blanket she had wrapped around her shoulders. My eyebrows shoot up because now I get to see her in her full naked glory.

She gives me a mock frown. “Why is it that every other freaking word you have is about dick sucking?”

I rest my hand over my abs as they clench again as another chuckle escapes. “Because I’m a guy. That’s what I think about. Not too hard to figure out here. Let’s not sugarcoat it—if I’m looking at your mouth, there’s a decent chance I’m thinking about putting my dick in it. If I’m looking at your tits, there’s a good chance I’m thinking about sucking on them or fucking them. Same with your pussy and your ass. Men are not that complicated.”

Her chin juts up another inch. “I beg to differ. You’re all sorts of complicated, Karas.”

“I just like you to think that, Holly.”

Her lips purse, and her eyes drop to her new tiles. The way her mind works fascinates me. The way she takes a flash of inspiration and turns it into a song . . . it’s nothing short of amazing. Her lips spread into a triumphant smile, kicking up my anticipation a notch. The woman only needs to breathe, and I’m eager for whatever she’s going to do next.

“D-I-L-D-O. Dildo. Seven points.” She looks up. “You know, I’ve never actually owned a dildo. Or a vibrator. Whatever.”

“Seriously?” The shock in my voice can’t be missed.

“Well, no. I mean, yes, seriously. I’ve never owned one.”

“How is that possible?”

“I just never went out and got one. I don’t know. I figured my hand got the job done just fine.”

I just shake my head at her confession. “I swear, everything that comes out of your mouth surprises me.”

After a beat of studying her face, I look down at the tiles on my rack. I don’t have many options. I decide on a word that’s not all that dirty, but deem it appropriate nonetheless.

“M-I-N-E. Mine.”

Holly looks at me strangely. “It’s Dirty Scrabble, Crey. Not whatever-word-you-want Scrabble.”

“True, but that’s what you are, dirty or not, so that’s my last word on the subject.”

With that, I shove the game board aside, sending the tiles and racks flying, and pin her to the mattress.