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“Yeah. Or something along those lines. Something like this relationship wasn’t enough for her, I couldn’t give her what she wanted.” He shrugged. “Same thing.”

I shifted closer. “I’m sure that wasn’t what she meant, Kerr. She just meant it wasn’t right for either of you. Just like Drew and I weren’t right.” I smiled gently. “Although he said I was too much, so it was the opposite in my case.”

He huffed out a breath. “Only too much for someone who didn’t deserve you.”

“And you are definitely enough,” I told him, lifting my hands to cradle his face. His arms slid around my waist, tightening, pulling me closer. As a strong tug of need swept through me, I lifted my leg over his lap, drawing my chest to his.

I leaned in to brush the tip of my nose against his, feeling him shudder with anticipation. The hairs on the back of my arms lifted as a wave of goose bumps prickled along my skin.

“You are more than enough,” I whispered, looking into the simmering dark of his eyes. He tightened his arms further, closing the gap between us, and I paused for the briefest of seconds to convey a message of want into his eyes before pressing my mouth to his. I needed to be the one who instigated the kiss this time, to show him that I wanted him. To show him that he was more than enough for me.

It took a heartbeat for the kiss to become urgent, his mouth hungrily devouring mine and his tongue stroking in hot, wet slides. An ache grew between my legs. He slid one hand from my waist to my thigh, squeezing and kneading in sync with his kisses, each movement building the ache with wave after delicious wave.

Kerr let out a frustrated groan and hauled me onto his lap so that I was straddling him.

Grasping his face, his stubble grazing my fingertips, I kissed him harder, rolling my hips so that I pressed flush against his crotch and the hardness I could feel waiting for me underneath his jeans. Another groan escaped his mouth, and God I ached at the sound of it. I wanted more—​more of introverted, controlled Kerr coming undone just for me.

His arms tightened around me, then he reached one hand up to dig his fingers into my hair, grasping and tugging downward so that my head tilted up and the line of my neck lay exposed. He pressed his lips against the sensitive skin in the crook of my neck, grazing with his stubble, then kissing the area better, the hot slide of his tongue making me squirm with need. I could feel my pulse flutter in my neck, my chest, my wrists. Every nerve ending throbbed with desire, and the peaks of my nipples hardened into sensitive beads, aching every time I pressed my chest against his. I let out a moan, which served to drive him further, pressing his hand into the small of my back and sliding his hot mouth over my bare shoulder as the neck of my sweater slipped.

“Kerr,” I breathed, when the pressure between my legs became unbearable.

“Yes?” he said, his voice throaty and low as he yanked my sweater down to drag his mouth across my chest.

I couldn’t answer for a moment because he found that sensitive area at the base of my throat and fastened his mouth over it, sucking my skin against his teeth as if he wanted to reimprint the bruised shape of his kiss.

He broke off for a second to murmur “What is it?,” letting go of my hair so that my head tipped forward to meet his eyes. They were so dark I felt I could fall into them. “What do you want, Nisa?” He leaned his forehead against mine, his breath coming in hot, short blasts. “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

I’ll give it to you. I shuddered with need. “You,” I said on a breath. I dragged my eyes down his torso, and back up again. “All of you.”

With a growl, he stood, effortlessly hauling me up against his front, making me gasp, my legs wrapping tight around his waist and my arms flinging around his neck.

He strode through the living room, one arm around my waist with one large hand splayed on my arse, holding me tightly against him. The other hand pressed against my nape, nestling my face in the crook of his neck as he rested his chin on my shoulder.

He headed for the stairs, climbing them easily. “Which room?” he asked, his tone clipped by need.

“Last one on the right,” I answered as he turned at the top of the stairs and took the landing in a few long strides. He entered my bedroom, placing me carefully in a sitting position on the end of the bed and then straightening to give me the most intense eye contact of my life as he drew his sweater over his head in one easy movement, dropping it onto the floor.

My breath caught in my chest and my blood rushed faster through my veins as he lifted the bottom of his T-shirt, revealing a toned abdomen, then pulled it off to join his sweater at his feet.

I stared at the mouthwatering contours of his chest, dusted with dark hair and cast in shadows in the dark of my bedroom, the only light the dregs of what spilled up the stairs from the downstairs hallway.

He came closer, and my gaze snagged on the swell of his deltoids and biceps as they flexed under his weight when he leaned his arms on either side of me, bending low to steal a slow, languid kiss. The air in the room seemed to thicken, each draw like treacle in my lungs.

He broke off to look at me, eyes hooded, voice low. “I’m going to strip you, and make you come with my mouth. Is that okay?”

I thought my heart was going to beat right out of my chest. Was it okay? Was Santa bringing you all the best and most amazing presents on your list okay? Was winning millions of pounds in the lottery okay? “Yes,” I managed to answer.

His mouth pulled into a slow smile as he grasped the bottom of my pink jumper, pulling it over my head. Then he made quick work of my tank top before taking my hands to pull me to my feet and kneeling before me to undo my jeans and peel them off. He paused then, leaving me standing there in just my lucky black underwear. This underwear set had served me well tonight.

“Fuck, Nisa,” he said, voice low, lifting a hand to brush his fingers across the soft swell of my belly, the tips of his fingers just grazing the lacy band of my panties. He looked up at me from his knees, through the dark of his brows. “You’re gorgeous. You look good enough to eat.”

The heat in his gaze was so intense I thought that my heart might fail. I had never felt so wanted, so desired. So beautiful.

He stood, and I let him continue to direct me, happy to relinquish control to him. It was as if he could read my mind and tell me exactly what I wanted, even before I knew myself.

Kerr Murdoch might project a quiet, introspective nature, but I was discovering that he was masterful and commanding underneath, if he allowed you to strip away his armor.

It’s always the quiet ones.