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“Don’t go that far.”

“You mean to tell me if I stuck my hand down your pants right now, you wouldn’t be wet?”

The question steals my breath. I swear, it’s like he is psychic.

Before I can come up with a response, he points to the head of the bed. “I’ll find out for myself. Hands and knees, facing the headboard.”

“Yessir,” I chirp, giving him a salute he is in no way impressed by before I do as I’m told. My whole body is buzzing now, filled with nervous anticipation. I’m going to get more of what he gave me yesterday, and I can’t wait.

However . . . “How do we work out a safe word if I won’t be able to breathe?” I ask, hesitating before facing the headboard.

“Slap the bed three times.” It’s like he’s already thought this out, though I doubt it. “I’ll let you up for air.”

“I can work with that.”

“Good.” The next thing I know, his gentle touch is sending shivers through me, making me want to give him whatever he wants as he caresses my butt and my thighs. “Let’s get rid of these.”

I close my eyes, giving myself over to whatever is about to happen as Adrian slides the waistband of my sweats over my butt and down to my knees. “What will I find when I take these off?” he teases, plucking at the waistband of my panties. “Will you be wet, like I thought?”

“The situation is exciting,” I remind him, because I can’t believe the idea of him committing murder is a turn-on. I won’t let myself believe that.

“Whatever you say . . .” He chuckles darkly, peeling away the fabric. His breathing changes, getting shorter, sharper. “I thought so.”

Then my back arches and my hips roll because he’s touching me, almost tickling my lips. And yes, they’re wet. I’m soaked, so ready for him. “Mmm . . .”

“Does this feel good?” With his free hand, he strokes my back, then my neck, sending ripples of pleasure through me. I don’t know what to do with this feeling. It’s so new. Is it supposed to be this intense? By the time he wraps his hand around my neck, I’m shaking, almost forcing myself back against the fingers still stroking my seam.

Slowly, his fingers work their way between my lips to my core, pulling a howl from deep in my chest. “So fucking wet.” The deep, intimate growl of his voice adds to the intensity, making my head spin and all kinds of noises come out of my mouth. I don’t even care how I sound. It feels good to let go.

And even more so when he starts to play with my clit.

A jolt runs through me, and tension in my core turns into something almost painful. “Oh my God!” I gasp in disbelief when my body goes crazy, working against his fingers.

“Ready?” I barely have a chance to process his question before he presses my face against the pillow.

My cries are muffled now, but that doesn’t stop me from moaning as he works me faster, strumming the bundle of nerves. My fists clutch the sheets as the tension builds just like the pressure from his hand, pushing me a little tighter against the pillow, tighter, making it impossible to breathe. His voice rises over the pounding of blood in my ears. “Come for me, June.”

Oh, yes. That’s all it takes. That one command. What I felt last night is nothing compared to this. All I can do is scream when the tension breaks and my body is consumed. The world around me explodes in a burst of heat and color. I wish it could go on forever, but my lungs are burning for air and I’m starting to feel dizzy.

“That’s right,” he grunts, letting me up for air so I can pull in a shuddering breath, then another. “So you like that, do you?”

“Yeah . . .” I whisper, going with it when he rolls me onto my back, then lifts my legs straight up so he can strip me from the waist down.

“I’m going off script,” he warns, climbing between my legs, lowering his shorts. His cock springs free, swollen and rigid, and he takes it in one hand to stroke before wrapping his other hand around my throat. “I want to see your face.”

There’s no pressure yet, but just the feel of him—the way he’s controlling me—makes me gasp. He drags his tip through my juices, making me arch and strain against him, but all he does is hold my throat a little tighter before entering me. He slides in faster, more urgent than our first time. Still gentle, but there is less hesitation now.

So big. I don’t know what to do with all this fullness, with the friction, as he sinks deep inside my core. “Look at me,” he commands, forcing me to lock eyes with him once his grip tightens again.

“This is better,” he decides, moving in and out while he stares down at me. I’m getting lightheaded, but I like it. I really do. It’s dirty, it’s raw, it’s everything I’ve missed until now. Giving myself over to him, to this, letting loose every fantasy I’ve ever had.

The pressure builds in my head along with the pressure in my core, growing with every stroke, with every bit of extra pressure against my throat. Soon I’m gasping. Is it because I’m going to come again, or because I can barely sip air now?

“Getting tighter.” He grits his teeth, tendons standing out on his neck. “You are a dirty girl, aren’t you? So sweet on the outside.”

I’m going to come. It’s so close, just outside my reach. I jerk my hips, frantic, while the pressure in my head builds until the world starts spinning and Adrian starts to blur in front of me. I can’t breathe! It’s too much!

Just as the world begins to go gray around the edges and I’m about to slap the mattress, the wave that’s been building breaks and crashes down around me.