I forced myself not to reveal anything when I looked at him. This was full circle, right back to where we’d been before when he’d bolted from my house, and I couldn’t deny that I was nervous.

But the bottom line was that I wanted this night—not drama or regrets—and I knew that Cole wanted it, too. I might be a little nervous, but I trusted him. More than that, I knew better than to disobey.

I dropped down to kneel in front of him. I put my hands on his knees, then gently eased his legs apart and moved closer until I felt the press of the mattress against my lower body.

I hesitated, expecting him to unfasten his jeans and tug down his fly. But all he did was lean back, putting his hands slightly behind him for support. He looked at me, and for a moment the only thing I felt was the heat that seemed to shimmer in the air between us.

Then he broke the connection by tilting his head back and drawing in a long breath.

I got the message. This was for me to do—to free him, to suck him, to take him all the way.

I had the control—except I didn’t. Because right then I was doing Cole’s bidding. I was the girl on her knees and we both knew it.

And damned if I didn’t like it. Because he was right—there was power here. Power and submission. That duality excited me. And what excited me even more was that it had been Cole who’d seen that side of me. Who’d so clearly seen all of me.

Slowly, I tugged his zipper down, then freed his cock. I traced a fingertip lightly along the length of him, then closed my hand around the base, stroking him slowly up and down, my own body growing hotter and tighter as I felt his erection grow under my touch. I wanted to drive him crazy—to make him go wild. I wanted to take us both to the edge and then leap into the chasm with him.

I wanted the man. And I wanted everything that came with him.

I drew in a breath, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. I tilted my head back a bit, wanting to meet his eyes. But his were closed, and the expression of pure pleasure that colored his face gave me such a rush of feminine power that one touch to my clit would have sent me tumbling over the edge.

I used my tongue to tease the head of his cock, lightly stroking his glans, then using the tip to circle the head in a way that all those intimate magazine articles swore would drive your man crazy. If his deep, guttural groan was any indication, those articles were dead-on perfect.

He shifted his weight, using only one hand to support his body as he leaned back. With his other, he threaded his fingers through my hair. I tensed, then forced myself to relax. I wanted this. And even more I wanted Cole to know how much I wanted to give him pleasure—however he deemed to take it.

With the pressure of his hand to the back of my head, I took his cock deep, then drew back, sucking and licking, my head bobbing in time with the sound of his breathing and with the rhythm of his hand upon me. He was hard and tight and so damn close, and with each thrust of his hand to my head he made me take him deeper, harder, until I was certain that he would come right then, right there, and I really wasn’t sure that I could handle the force of his explosion, but god help me I wanted to try.

But then he stopped, pulling my mouth off him, then scooting back onto the bed.

I looked up, afraid that he’d once again feared injuring me. But it wasn’t worry or fear or anger I saw in his eyes. It was bold, hot, blatant need.

“On the bed,” he said, his voice raw and edgy. “On the bed and on your knees.”

I complied, not sure what he had in mind, but willing to go wherever he wanted. I was so wet I could feel my arousal between my thighs, and even the brush of air between my legs made sparks shiver through me.

I did as he asked and got on the bed on my knees with my legs slightly spread. My upper arms rested on the bed so that my back was flat, like a table. My breasts felt thick and heavy, and I desperately wanted to touch myself. To stroke my nipples. To lift a hand and slide it back between my legs. To feel how wet I was and know that it was Cole who’d brought me to such heights of arousal and pleasure.

The bed shifted as he stood, and I turned my head to see him looking at me. “This is the picture I keep in my head,” he said. “You on your knees, open and ready and desperate for me.”

“Yes,” I murmured.

“Do you remember the first time you were like this? My house. You’d stormed in all wildness and bluster.”

“Of course I remember.”

“I’m amazed I’ve had any other thought in my head since the first moment I touched you. You fill me up, Kat, and I can’t stand the thought that you’re not yet mine completely.”

“But I am.”

“You’re not,” he said. “But you will be. Do you trust me, baby?”

“You know I do.”

“Good. Because I’m going to fuck you hard tonight. I’m going to claim you. I’m not going to leave even the slightest doubt in your mind that you belong to me.” He leaned over me, stroking his hands along my bare back, and that touch ricocheted through me, making me feel connected. Complete. And very much alive.

Somehow he’d stripped his jeans and briefs all the way off, and his erection pressed hard against me, the tip teasing my sex as he thrust just slightly into me. Just enough to make me gasp and want. Then the bed shifted as he got on to kneel behind me and I felt the press of his cock at my ass, hard and insistent and just a little terrifying.

I must have sucked in air, because he shifted away, and I heard myself moan with disappointment.

“My girl wants me to take her there,” he said, reading me perfectly.

“Yes,” I said, voicing a desire I hadn’t fully understood.

“Good,” he said, then bent to whisper in my ear. “So do I.”

Three simple words, and yet the heat from them spread through me, making me even needier than I already was.

“Stay,” he said, then left the bed for a moment before coming back with the padded envelope that had been delivered with my closing documents. He’d come around the bed so that he faced me now, and with a little bit of a flourish, he ripped open the envelope, then reached in and pulled out something that looked like a small vibrator, only more conical and with a flange on top.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked, setting it on the bed in front of me.

I nodded.

His brows rose. “Really? Tell me.”

“It’s a butt plug,” I said, shooting for a matter-of-fact tone but failing miserably. “I already told you I’m not innocent.”

He laughed. “So you did. But have you ever used one?” He moved beside me, then trailed his fingers softly down my back and over the swell of my ass. “Has anything ever penetrated this sweet, tight ass?” Gently, he spread my butt cheeks, then pressed his fingertip to the rim of my anus.

I sucked in air, surprised by the shock of the contact and the jolt of pleasure that seemed to shoot through me, like a preamble of things to come. “No,” I said. “I told you. Never. No one. Nothing.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

He reached around me for the bag, then pulled out a small bottle of lube. He flipped the lid, put some on his fingertip, and then slowly stroked the sensitive skin between my ass and my vagina, each tender movement making the storm that was building inside me rage wilder until I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand it.