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As she rode him, he spurred her on with so many beautiful praises and dirty demands.

“Gorgeous,” he said. “That’s it, Viv. Ride me like a good girl. Take my cock all the way in.”

“Yes,” she hissed, when he reached between them, rubbing her clit. Her pussy constricted in response and before she knew it, she was bowing forward, coming so hard it hurt.

“Fuck!” she cried out. “Dean! Jesus…”

Dean kept a strong grip on her hips, holding her against him, his dick buried deep as she quivered and came around him. It took a minute before she could swim back to shore, and another thirty seconds before she realized he hadn’t leapt into the deep end with her.

Lifting her head from his shoulder, she shuddered when she saw his hungry, almost-pained expression.

“Ready to finish this?” he asked, his words sounding almost like a threat. Not that her foolish, exhausted, wrung-out body responded to them as such.

Dean shifted them as one, his cock still inside her as he twisted, pushing her to her back on the couch and caging her beneath him. He didn’t waste a second as he pounded inside her with so much force, she feared she’d pass out.

Was there such a thing as too much pleasure?

She began to believe there was.

“Dean!” she gasped, her back arching when, once again, he found her self-destruct button, stroking her clit until it felt as if she’d been struck by lightning, every part of her body tingly with electrical sparks. “More,” her masochistic side demanded, even as she seriously worried she couldn’t actually take any more.

Dean doubled down, taking her even harder. The second climax literally blinded her for a moment, her vision going black as every muscle tensed, then released, awash in pain and pleasure.

How the hell had she gone so long without this?

Then she realized she was asking the wrong question.

How the hell had she gone so long without him?

Dean had been an occasional background figure in her life. Her first crush, then her brother’s friend and mentor, and this year, a casual acquaintance she saw only in social settings.

It seemed impossible that they’d spent so many years popping in and out of each other’s lives, without realizing that THIS connection existed between them.

Dean followed her down this time, dropping to his elbows, his chest pressed against hers. They were both slick with sweat from the heat they’d produced. She wondered if she could convince him to take a sexy shower with her. Then she tried to figure out when she had become this wanton, needy woman who acted without thinking.

Before Boston, Vivian had been a planner, the type to overthink every little thing. She had to be. As a single mom with a small daughter relying on her, she couldn’t act impulsively, couldn’t make important decisions willy-nilly.

Somehow, Dean had changed her, made her want to be the kind of woman who threw caution to the wind, who acted with reckless abandon.

He’d cast some kind of spell on her…and she was not mad about it. At all.

She sighed when Dean’s lips slowly made their way along the column of her throat, not stopping until he reached her earlobe. She giggled when he nipped it.

“I honestly didn’t think we could top Boston,” she said, slightly amazed by the huskiness of her voice. She’d never considered herself the femme fatale type, always much more of a girl next door. But when Dean lifted his head, his eyes still dark with lust, she felt sexy, like some kind of wicked seductress.

“Neither did I.” He slowly pushed himself upright before dropping back on his ass, sitting between her outstretched legs. A more modest woman might close them, but considering he’d just fucked her boneless, that wasn’t an option.

So they remained where they were, locked in each other’s gazes, neither of them speaking.

Words didn’t seem necessary.

Because whatever this was—right or maybe wrong—she knew she wasn’t going to put the brakes on it. She couldn’t. And she could see the same was true for him.

Tomorrow, they might have questions.

But today…all they had was certainty.

Chapter Five