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“And when you showed up at the art show, wearing that dress I bought you,” he whispers raggedly against my mouth before biting my bottom lip. “Do you know how fucking hard I was, Sweet Stuff? I could have driven nails with this dick.”

Another kiss.

Another boiling groan.

Another braising nip of teeth.

I’m so flipping gone I might never come back.

His fingers areso closeto my clit now, and I buck my hips, inviting them in.

I need to feel him now.

To touch me, to worship me, to bring me off in screaming, clenching fireworks.

God, if there’s anything I’d change about him, I’d make this man less of a tease.

But it’s my turn to give it back, so I find him through the fabric again, gingerly stroking his bulge until his voice steams.

“Shit, shit. Tell me what you want, Junie.”

“I want you to fuck me, Dex.”

The corner of his mouth quirks as he grazes my clit.

I grip the railings behind me for dear life.

“Right here?”

“Yes.”

“In front of Kansas City? You want everyone to see what a perfect little slut you’ll be for me?”

He’s. Killing. Me.

I stifle a moan as his fingers move, pulling a messy plea from my throat.

“Yes, yes!”

“Speak the fuck up. Tell me.”

“I… I want you right here. I want you in front of the city.”

The deranged hunger in his eyes is enough to devour me right here and now.

Fine.

I’ll let myself be swallowed whole.

I’ll let him use me any which way he pleases.

I’ll give up my soul just to make sure he doesn’t stop.

“Please,” I whimper, shamelessly begging now. “Please, Dex.”

I don’t know how he’s reduced me to this simmering mess, completely at his beck and call.

Before he swept me out here, if he even mentioned stripping me naked on his balcony, I would’ve hid for the next month.

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