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“I like having you pressed against me like this.”

I laugh. “I thought we were having a moment.”

“We were definitely having a moment. And I think we can also have a different kind of moment.”

Lifting my head to see his face I spot the mischief in his expression. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

Sam smiles, and I know that I’m in trouble. It’s a smile full of lust and a dare and I know that I’m going to hate and love what he has to say at the same time. “Behind me, in the corner, there’s an emergency exit.” I look behind him, but I don’t see it. I’m about to ask, but he continues. “It’s behind the drapes the Nest put up for the wedding.”

I see it now, a tiny crack in the turquoise draping, leading to a dark alcove.

He pulls me close again, so only I can hear. “I want to fuck you at your sister’s wedding, just behind those curtains.” I close my eyes, dizzy with the vision that is spiraling through my head as he speaks. “I want to pull that silver skirt up around your waist and make you come while all these people are drinking champagne right next to you. I want to come inside you and know that I’m dripping down your legs the rest of the night.”

I moan softly because I can see it all, and I want it. The way Sam talks to me like this never fails to make me wet, and I am now. His fingers tighten on my waist, guiding me toward the corner in our dance, smoothly charting our course through the other couples. “What do you say?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

We reach the edge of the dance floor and Sam spins me under his arm and through the gap in the curtains before anyone even has a chance to see where we’ve gone. I turn back to him, and he’s right there, pressing me against the wall, the only light the dim red glow of the exit sign. Sam’s lips fall on mine, a crushing kiss that steals my breath because even after six months, I’m still not ready for it—the sheer pleasure of being with him.

His hands are on my skirt, pulling it up until it’s bunched around my waist and the crinoline is scratching my thighs. “This underwear was for you,” I say against his lips. The thong is silver to match the dress. “I knew you’d want to see it later.”

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m still going to.”

My moan is lost in his kiss, and he lifts one of my legs up, granting him access to me. Fingers stroke and caress and slip inside me and my breath catches because now he knows me. As we’ve relearned each other’s bodies he’s made a study in exactly what makes me tick, makes me shudder, makes me come the hardest. He knows exactly how to twist his fingers so that he’s stroking my G-spot and making my knees go weak.

I reach between us, tackling his belt because I want him inside me now. He doesn’t argue as I guide him against me, pulling aside my thong so he can push inside—which he does all in one stroke. I gasp, and he laughs softly. “I feel like we’ve been here before. Me having to tell you to keep quiet. We don’t want to scandalize all the guests.”

There’s a snarky reply in my mind somewhere, but it’s lost as he pulls back and thrusts in. God, yes. Sam’s fingers grip my thigh, holding me steady and wrapped around him. This angle is straight and deep and I can feel every delicious inch of him. I’m so turned on that I’m halfway there and he’s barely touched me. “Remember,” he says, “quiet. Anyone could come through those curtains to see what they heard, and they’d be able to see me fucking you. Just like this.” He emphasizes his words with his movement, and I have to close my eyes. I love the idea of being caught, of taking risks. I always have. Sam knows that, and knows exactly what to say to make me realize it. “There’s people five feet away from you who have no idea that my cock is buried inside you.”

My pussy clenches in response to his words and he laughs against my skin, kissing my neck. I moan softly, and then louder because it feels so good. I can’t help it. Pleasure in my core is swirling upward, outward, a perfect storm that’s bringing me to the edge and fast and I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold it in. It’s a good thing that Sam lives out in the middle of nowhere, because I’m not quiet. I’m never quiet.

He grabs me around the waist and lifts me off the ground so that both legs are wrapped around him, and oh…fuck. My hands are against the wall and then his shoulders, and I’m grabbing at anything because it’s right there. Pleasure pleasure pleasure. I’m drowning in it. So much that I’m overcome but not enough for the storm to break.

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