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Being wanted isn’t new. Being known this well and still having him look at me like I’m the only woman in the room is.

His fingers trace the flowers along my ribs, following one bright petal before his hand settles at my waist. Then he bends and presses his mouth to the edge of the ink, and my breath catches hard enough that his eyes lift to mine.

He kisses the same place again, slower this time, and my hand moves to the back of his neck. “Zander.”

His name comes out softer than I mean it to, carrying more need than teasing, and something in his expression changes when he hears it.

He straightens and kisses me with even more heat this time, one hand sliding into my hair while the other holds me against him. I feel the restraint he’s been holding onto start to loosen, but he still doesn’t rush me.

We start to undress each other slowly, stopping often enough that every new touch feels deliberate. He reaches for the hem of my shirt, and I lift my arms. The black fabric slides up and off, landing somewhere on the floor. His eyes drop to my chest, to the black lace bra, to the fern tattoo that curls over my collarbone.

"Fuck," he breathes.

I step backward until my calves hit the bed frame. I sit down on the edge of the mattress and scoot back. Zander watches me, chest rising and falling faster now. I lie back against the comforter and crook my finger at him.

He crawls onto the bed. His body covers mine for a moment, all that warm skin and hard muscle pressing me into the mattress. He kisses my neck, teeth grazing the spot where my pulse hammers, and I arch into him.

Then he's moving down. Kissing the hollow of my throat. The swell of my breasts above the lace. My stomach, where a fox tattoo sits close to my hip. His fingers work the button of my jeans. I lift my hips so he can slide them off, along with my underwear.

I'm naked now except for the bra and my jewelry. Zander settles between my legs. His broad shoulders push my thighs apart. I prop myself up on my elbows to watch him.

He presses a kiss to the inside of my knee. Then higher. His stubble scrapes my inner thigh, and I shiver. He kisses the crease where my leg meets my hip, and my breath catches.

"Zander."

He looks up at me. Those blue eyes are dark now. He holds my gaze as he lowers his mouth to my pussy.

The first stroke of his tongue is slow. Deliberate. He licks from my entrance up to my clit in one long, wet glide. My elbows buckle. I fall back against the mattress.

"So good," I gasp.

He does it again. And again. His tongue traces patterns on my clit that feel like the designs I ink into skin. Circles and swirls and quick flicks. My hands knot in the comforter, dragging fistfuls of fabric tight beneath me.

He wraps his lips around my clit and sucks. My hips jerk up off the bed, and he pins them down with one big hand splayed across my stomach. The other hand slides two fingers inside me.

"Shit, Zander, YES…"

He curls his fingers, finding that spot inside me, while his tongue keeps working my clit. The dual sensation makes my thighs clamp around his head. He groans against my flesh and the vibration sends sparks shooting up my spine.

I'm already close. His tongue flattens and presses hard. His fingers pump faster, curling with each thrust. I reach down and bury my hands in his messy brown hair. Hold him there.

"Don't stop, don't stop, I’m…"

The orgasm hits like a wave. It starts low in my belly and rolls outward, making my legs shake and my back arch. I cry out, something wordless and raw. He keeps licking me through it, gentler now, drawing out every last pulse until I'm trembling and oversensitive.

I tug his hair, and he crawls back up my body.

"Your turn," I rasp.

I push at his chest until he rolls onto his back. His jeans are still on. I make quick work of the button and zipper, yanking them down his hips along with his boxers. His cock springs free, thick and hard, the tip already slick.

I swing my leg over his hips. Straddle him. His hands find my waist as I position myself above him. The head of his cock nudges against my entrance. I'm still wet from his mouth, still sensitive from the orgasm.

I sink down slowly. Inch by inch. My pussy stretches to accommodate him, and we both groan at the same time. When he's fully seated inside me, I pause. Just breathing. Just feeling how full I am.

"Ruby." His voice cracks on my name.

I start to move. A slow roll of my hips. His hands tighten on my waist, and I plant my palms on his chest, feeling his heart hammer under my fingers. The new tattoo on his arm flexes as he grips me.