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He moves closer, until we’re inches apart, and puts his hands on my shoulders. His nostrils flare, his breath coming harder, like he’s fighting himself tooth and nail.

“I get hard just looking at you, you know. All through dinner, I was just imagining your legs spread under this table. You have no idea what you do to me.”

My heart starts beating so hard I can feel it in my fingertips. There’s pressure behind my ribs, like something is going to snap, and I want to tell him he’s not alone in this. I want him to know I’m just as fucked up about it as he is. I swallow, throat dry, and say, “I can’t stop thinking about you either. Can’t stop wanting you. It’s crazy.”

He stares at me, hungry and miserable, his gray eyes gone black. There’s a beat where neither of us moves.

And then he lifts his hands to my face and kisses me. The breath goes out of me, and then I’m kissing him back, all the fury and jealousy and want finding a place to go. His hands tangle in my hair, his mouth sealing over mine, and he kisses me like he’s starving.

Finally, he breaks away just enough to look at me, his eyes blown wide, and I feel a surge of heat low in my belly when I see how far gone he is. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he rasps, voice thick. “All night, all through dinner. Every time I looked at you, all I could think about was bending you over the table and fucking you until you screamed my name. God, I was getting hard just thinking about it.”

My heart races at his words.

“See what you do to me?” He grabs my hand and moves it down, pressing it over the hard bulge in his pants. I gasp and squeeze him through the fabric, and he groans. “Fuck, Sophie.”

Then he’s sliding his hands up under my shirt, palms hot against my skin, stripping it over my head, taking my bra off in one practiced move. The air is cold but his gaze is lava, burning over my bare chest. He reaches up, thumbs flicking over my nipples, and I suck in a sharp breath.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he mutters, almost to himself. “These tits.” He bends and wraps his mouth around my nipple, sucking hard and circling his tongue. I arch into him, nails digging into his shoulders.

He’s all over me, squeezing and biting and kissing, holding nothing back. His hands move to my jeans and he fumbles the button open, shoves them down with my underwear in one rough pull. He kneels, tearing them off my ankles, and then looks up at me, his eyes pure hunger.

I’m breathing like I’ve just run a marathon.

He stands and towers over me, still dressed, and I want him naked but I love the way he doesn’t even bother, like he can’t wait another second. He walks me backward while I cling to his shoulders, every muscle in my body screaming yes. The backs of my knees hit the edge of my bed, and he pushes me down onto the mattress, hands on my shoulders. I fall back, legs splayed open, completely exposed. He stands at the edge of the bed, rubbing his cock through the front of his pants as he looks down at me.

“Spread and wet and ready for me,” he says, voice hoarse. “You want it, sweetheart?”

“God, yes,” I whisper. “Please.”

He makes a low sound in his throat, then drops to his knees at the edge of the bed. He grabs my thighs and pulls me to the edge, so my ass is right at the end of the mattress, then pushes my legs open wide.

“Fucking perfect,” he murmurs, and then leans forward. His mouth is hot on my pussy, licking up my slit and circling my clit. I’m gone immediately, all my awareness surging down to between my legs, making soft cries that I can’t help. He sucks my clit, and my whole body jerks.

“Vince . . . oh God.”

He groans, and I hear the sound of his pants unzipping. I sit up on my elbows and look down to see that he’s jerking his cock with one hand as he eats me out. He’s so hard he can’t wait. Fuck. The image is so filthy it makes my insides clench. I want to see it, but I can’t stop watching his mouth on me, the way his tongue flicks and licks and sucks, the way his eyes keep flicking up to meet mine, dark and wild.

“You taste so fucking good,” he growls. “I could eat you for hours. I want my face covered in your pussy.”

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t— Ah, fuck.” My head drops back as he flattens his tongue and laps at my clit, hard and fast, my breath coming so hard. Then he pushes a finger inside me, and the world contracts to a single pinpoint.

The exquisite sensation of his tongue moving over my clit, the feel of his finger inside me. The knowledge that this is Vince, licking my pussy—jerking himself while he does it because he’s so turned on. My insides seize.

And then I come so hard that my lungs feel like they’re caving in. For a second, I can’t breathe. I convulse, thighs clamping around his head, but he just keeps going, licking me through it, making it last so long it turns into pain and then right back into pleasure.

When it’s too much, I push at his head, and he stands, grinning, his pants and boxers pushed down and his cock already leaking pre-cum. He strokes himself as he watches me, trying to step out of his pants without taking his hand off his cock.

“Turn over,” he instructs me. “Get on your hands and knees for me, baby.”

I get up still panting for breath, almost unable to coordinate my limbs, and turn over. I lift my ass in the air, and look over my shoulder to see him get his pants and boxers off, and line up behind me, fist working his cock as he gets ready to fuck me, his shirt still on.

He slaps the head against my pussy, spreading me open, and I moan, pushing back against him. “You want it?”

“Yes. Please, Vince. I want it so bad.”

The head of his cock pushes against my entrance, and then he freezes.

“Fuck,” he chokes out before pulling away from me. My head snaps back over my shoulder to look at him. “Condoms,” he explains. “I have to go get them.”