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“That’s debatable.”

Sadness flickered in Marabella’s eyes. “You don’t think love is possible?”

“Not in the way you do.” He waved his hand toward the TV. “Not how it’s portrayed by Hollyweird.”

She crumpled the tissue in her palm. “Then what kind of love do you believe in?”

The kind that wouldn’t bite him in the ass. That wouldn’t leave him vulnerable enough to do something he’d regret later. He’d learned a long time ago that emotions could be the biggest weapons used against a person. A smart man never let his enemy know he gave a damn about anything or anyone.

“You really want to know what I believe in, sweet Bella?” He pushed up from the chair and stalked toward the couch. Her eyes widening, Marabella slunk deeper into the cushions as if she were hoping to melt into them and thereby escape.

As if there was any chance in hell of that happening. He’d been tormenting himself with the memory of her all day and half the night. His senses reeled from the intoxicating proximity of her. If he didn’t touch her—right this instant—he’d fucking self-combust. Planting his knees on either side of hers, he hiked up her skirt and slid his hand inside her panties. She gasped, but he barely registered the sound as silken heat met his fingers.

Locking their gazes, he coasted along her labia. Satisfaction burned in his gut when her folds immediately slickened for him. “This is what I believe in. Sex, and the indisputable truth your body is telling me right now.”

“I-it’s not telling you anything.”

“Yes, it is. It’s making it crystal clear how much you want me.”

He expected her to deny it, or come up with some ridiculous lie that’d be in direct opposition to the damnable proof of her wetness coating his fingers. Instead she took a shaky breath and nodded. “You’re right. I—I do want you.” Her lips trembled. “I wish with every beat of my heart that I didn’t though.”

“That makes two of us, babe.” He found her entrance and eased a finger inside. Snug, wet warmth surrounded him, and he clenched his jaw. “Do you remember the feel of my cock buried inside you?”

“Yes,” she answered, her voice wispy.

“I remember the feel of you coming, all of your tiny cunt muscles milking my cock.”

Sam.” Despite her scandalized retort, a tremor rippled through the velvety flesh hugging his finger.

He offered her a wicked grin. “Which excited you more? Me talking about you coming, or using the word cunt?”

She blushed. He found it adorable that she could, considering her legs were spread for him while he finger-fucked her pussy. Her mixture of innocence and wantonness was the kerosene to his fire. Lowering his head, he ravished her mouth, his tongue plunging past her lips in perfect mimicry of his finger delving within her soaked channel. He caught her ragged moan and chased it with his own. Her nails raked through his hair, grazed his scalp. The light sting spurred him on. He added another finger along with the one already inside her and pumped the pair a few times before removing them and ripping her panties off.

Sitting back on his haunches, he tugged her sleeveless sweater over her head and freed the clasp on her bra, leaving the cups to dangle beneath her armpits. He slicked up his fingers with her wetness again before painting her nipples with the moisture he’d collected. Then he went about savoring every drop as he licked and sucked the turgid peaks. The way Marabella wiggled around, it was safe to hazard she was enjoying it just as much as him. He returned to her mouth and shared her taste. She was timid at first about allowing that taboo, but eventually her tongue welcomed his in an encouraging glide, and their kisses deepened until they were forced to come up for air.

His lungs bellowing, he stared at her for a long moment before hunkering in front of the couch and tugging her toward the edge of the cushion. He shoved her skirt above her waist and hooked her behind the knees with his hands. Spreading her wide, he gazed at the glistening bounty laid out before him. Mine. Tuning out the possessive growl in his head, he ducked and feasted on the succulent pussy he’d been dreaming about for hours. Days. A fucking lifetime.

He was like a kid in a candy store, wanting to gorge on his favorite treats all at once. So he did. Sucking her clit between his teeth, he licked and flicked it with his tongue while he fucked her with a pair of fingers stuffed in her pussy. When his tongue grew jealous of his fingers, he switched positions, alternating between the two until Marabella was writhing and gasping.

Fuck, he wanted to feel her come. It was a fierce need boiling inside him. Lifting his head, he watched her face as he sought her G-spot. She bucked against his hand, almost dislodging his fingers. He steadied her on the cushion and continued his pressure on the sweet spot guaranteed to rocket her over the edge.

“Sam, it’s too much. I—I can’t take anymore.”

“You can. You will.” His thumb brushed her clit lightly, teasingly, before circling the slick nub with firmer strokes that matched the tempo of his fingers plunging inside her pussy.

Her eyes rolled back and her mouth opened on a silent scream as her body bowed into a tight arch. The walls of her pussy clamped around his demanding fingers, milking them with strong spasms.

He nearly came with her. Giving her time to come down slowly, he removed his hand and licked his fingers clean, her musky taste managing to do the impossible—make him even harder. His entire body rigid with barely leashed need, he stood and kicked off his boots before fumbling with his T-shirt and jeans. Once naked, he scooped Marabella into his arms so they could trade places on the couch. He didn’t have any condoms, and it was a safe bet she didn’t either. In her dazed, post-orgasm bliss, it’d be easy enough to take advantage and slip inside her unprotected. Some unrecognizable sense of chivalry stopped him from doing such a bastard thing.

Shit. Imagine him not being a bastard for once. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t find other ways to enjoy her. “Come here, baby. Rub that sweet pussy on my cock.” Gripping her hips, he showed Marabella what he had in mind. Splaying her palms on his chest, she complied with his request, undulating in a way that made his balls tighten. Moaning, he let his head fall back against the couch cushion. “Fuck yeah. Like that. Feels good, Bella.”

She leaned forward and kissed him softly. Up close, her eyes held a dreamy, satiated quality. “I’m glad I’m making you feel good, Sam. Because what you just did for me…it was incredible.” She nibbled his bottom lip before giving him a shy smile. “I’d like to do that to you too. Oral sex, I mean. Would…would you like that?”

Chuckling, he kneaded her ass cheeks. “Baby, I don’t think there’s a male alive who doesn’t like having his cock sucked.”

She cast her gaze down toward the vicinity of his lap. “True. But I’ve never done it. I might disappoint you.”

He stared at the crown of her head. “You’ve never given a blowjob?”

“I told you. You’re the only one I’ve ever been with.”

“I didn’t realize that encompassed anything beyond penetration.” Another disturbing wave of primal satisfaction rolled through him again. It made no sense why it should please him that he’d been—and would continue to be—her first in all ways. But he wasn’t so foolish to turn away a delicious proposition handed to him on a silver platter. “I’ll teach you.”

Her lips twitched. “You’re going to teach me how to give a blowjob?”

“Yes. And there’ll be a quiz afterwards. So pay close attention.” He waggled his brows, earning her laugh.

She scooted off him and crouched between his legs. Her fingertips trailed through the light dusting of hair on his thighs, making their way to his groin. By the time she finally grazed his cock, his muscles were coiled with tension and a sheen of sweat glazed his chest.