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“My ex.” My cheeks flame. God, what if I really do taste awful? “Honestly, I’m okay with skipping the foreplay.”

“Georgia,” Theo says, his voice serious. “I’m going to say this once, and then we’re never going to talk about it again. But your ex was clearly a dick. Who has no idea how perfect you are.” He traces my thighs with his hands, like he’s trying to reassure me. “But I need to make this clear. I want to taste you. I want to fucking lick you and suck you until we’re both panting so hard we can’t talk anymore. I want to feel you come against my mouth until you’re begging me to stop. Because you already smell like heaven. So can I eat your pussy, please? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

I can’t help it, I laugh. His eyelashes sweep down as he looks up at me. My stomach contracts at the way he looks so intense.

“Yes,” I breathe.

He smiles, pressing his palms against my thighs like he’s enjoying their smoothness. Then he pulls them apart, exposing me to him, and for a beat he does nothing, just stares.

I’m getting used to the way he takes his time. Like life is something to be enjoyed, not rushed through. Then he leans in, pressing his nose against me like he can’t get enough, and I have to ignore the reflex to pull back.

“God, you smell perfect,” he tells me, before sliding his tongue along my seam, making me almost jump off the bed. And I don’t worry about how I taste or if I’m too wet or not wet enough. I just let myself feel.

The teasing rhythm of his tongue. The way his fingers join in, then push inside of me. The way he groans every time he tastes me, like he can’t get enough. I twist my own fingers in his hair, my nails against his scalp as I whisper his name. Pleasure coils and flickers deep in my belly, as he knots his fingers, creating the most beautiful friction I think I’ve ever felt.

“Oh God.” I buck up.

“Relax, I’ve got you.” He presses my stomach down with his free hand. Not hard, just enough for it to intensify the pleasure coiling in me.

His fingers move faster. I start to move my hips in the same rhythm. And it’s like he’s unlocked a door I never knew I had. Just as I think it couldn’t get any more intense he bites me. Actually pulls my clit between his teeth.

And every cell in my body explodes.

“Oh my God, Theo,” I dig my nails so hard into his scalp that I’m pretty sure I leave marks, but he carries on licking, caressing, coaxing the pleasure out of me with his fingers. He doesn’t stop until my back relaxes and I remember that I actually have to take a breath to keep on living.

And then he’s kissing me with sex coated lips, telling me just how perfect I am. It’s weird how safe I feel here, in his arms. How much I believe him.

Because he’s perfect, too. This man who knows how to make me see stars with his mouth. Who doesn’t complain about my needs or suggest we skip to the good parts. He pulls me into his chest, and for a second I try to catch my breath. And still, I feel the throb of the pleasure between my thighs.

“You still have your pants on,” I whisper when I’m finally able to talk out loud again.

“Trousers. And yes, I still do.” He grins.

“Well I need you to take them off.”

He chuckles. “Are you always so bossy when you’ve just come?”

No, I’m not. But I need him. I need more. I climb onto my knees, unbuckling his black leather belt, then I unfasten his pants and he slides them off.

I’m face to face with his dark boxer shorts. Tight against his muscles. And the thick, long ridge of him that presses against the fabric.

When I slide my finger over him, he lets out a strangled groan. I curl my hand around him, moving my palm against the cotton, squeezing him tightly.

“Take my pants off, Georgia.” His voice is low. Thick. It makes me shiver.

And instead of pointing out that they are, in fact, boxer shorts, for once I do exactly as I’m told.

12

THEO

My breath catches in my throat as Georgia pulls at my boxers, her fingers warm against my skin. I’m so stupidly hard for this woman, it’s almost painful.

The moon shines in through the gap in the blinds, casting a soft glow on her body. I hungrily take in the curve of her perfect breasts, the pink of her nipples, the soft cinch of her waist before it flares out into her hips.

“You’re beautiful,” I manage to tell her, before she curls her hand around my cock and all words fly out of my head. She runs her thumb over the head, her fingers creating the right kind of pressure.

But then she tightens her grasp and starts to move her hand and I let out a low groan.