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I can’t think about it. Not when he’s tracing my seam and making me undulate like a wave as my body’s needs start to take over. “Yes, keep doing that,” I plead, and I don’t care how desperate or demanding I sound.

“Are you trying to get another spanking?” He pulls his hand away, and my fists twist the sheet as my frustration builds.

“No!”

“Because I would be glad to turn this ass beet red tonight, June. Something for you to take with you.” And while his fingers tap my cheeks a little harder each time, he adds, “You could remember me all the way home tomorrow while you’re sitting on that jet.”

Tomorrow? I’ll remember him forever. I have to close my mouth tight, so tight it hurts, or else risk saying it out loud.

“I remember doing a little of this too.” I barely realize what he’s saying before the pressure from his thumb against my asshole makes me gasp. It feels so good and so wicked at the same time. Dirty, wrong, filthy.

But I’d kill him if he stopped.

“So wet . . .” He uses my slick heat to trace circles around my hole, pressing a little harder all the time, making me hold my breath and wait for him to breach the tight ring of muscle.

Instead, he keeps the pressure where it is while using his other hand to caress my thigh. “So tight and hot,” he groans as he fills me with what feels like two thick fingers.

It’s heaven. Heat ripples through me, making me moan, making me push back against him to meet his strokes.

“That’s right,” he grunts, his voice deep and rasping. “Fuck yourself on my fingers. Make yourself come for me before I fuck you, June. Before I make you scream and come again on my cock.”

Holy shit, nothing has ever been this hot. All-consuming, enough to burn away all traces of me and leave something gasping and needy in its place.

“So . . . good . . . yes, Adrian . . .” I can’t keep myself from pushing back faster, so fast and so hard his knuckles slam into me while the pressure in the back increases until finally a sense of fullness overwhelms me when his finger begins stretching my ass.

My body freezes in the final moments when I hang at the edge of the cliff. Then suddenly I’m falling, melting, dissolving into pure bliss that radiates through my limbs. I want to hold on to it, to freeze the moment, but it’s impossible. So I go with it instead, giving myself over to release.

By the time it’s over, he’s behind me with his knees on the bed. “Look up,” he orders, so I slowly raise my head to see our reflection in the window. I don’t think anybody in the building across the wide street could see us . . . could they?

Do I care if they do?

I don’t think so, especially when it’s so hot to watch him peel off his T-shirt so his magnificent body is on display. Then I feel the sudden stretching as he enters me, and my eyes close as a fresh wave of bliss washes over me from head to toe.

“No. Watch.” He takes me by my hips and sets his rhythm, delivering one deep stroke after another. “Watch yourself come. Watch yourself fall apart.”

And as he speaks, one hand leaves my hip so he can play with my ass again. It’s unreal, unbelievable, and I claw at the sheets now while watching his abs flex and bunch every time he slides deep inside me. “Do you like this? Do you like watching me fuck you?”

“Oh, yes.” I like it all. It’s all so good. Better than anything I ever imagined in any book. My boobs sway every time our bodies crash together. My mouth falls open when the delicious pressure against my ass increases. I couldn’t have come up with anything this incredible if I wrote a hundred more books.

“Look at you,” he pants, working his thumb in and out, taking me closer to losing control. “Getting fucked like this. Right in front of the window with the curtains open. You’re the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

That’s what does it. All at once my body clenches before a mind-numbing blast of sheer pleasure makes me shudder. My arms fold, leaving me face down on the mattress to scream until my voice goes hoarse.

He takes me by the hips again and slams me against him, rutting like a mindless animal before he fills me with a rush of warmth. “June . . . fuck, June . . .”

I know what he means. By the time he slips out of me and falls onto his side, I’m already curling up in a ball and feeling completely hollowed out. I don’t know what just happened. I only wish it could happen again.

He’s still breathing heavy when I open my eyes to find him watching me. His face is only inches from mine, a little flushed, but it’s the warmth radiating from his eyes that makes me stare in fascination.

“That was a pretty good start to our last night together,” he decides once he’s caught his breath a little.

“‘Start’?” I echo, trying not to think about the rest of the sentence.

“You didn’t think I was done with you already? Give me five and we’ll go again.” The faint sting in the corner of my swollen mouth makes me flinch back when he draws closer. “Don’t worry.” His voice is almost painfully gentle and understanding. “I won’t hurt you.”

But in a way he is, when his lips meet mine in the softest, most delicate kiss. The sort of kiss that holds the power to rock a girl’s world. Slow, sweet, but still enough to take my breath away.

I can’t help but scoot closer to him, my body craving his even so soon after having him inside me. Now I crave his warmth, the comfort of his arms, and he delivers by drawing me closer, pulling me against his chest. I didn’t realize until now how well our bodies fit together. Like two puzzle pieces.