Chapter 2

I went up on my toes and put my hands on his chest so I would not lose my balance. His shirt felt stiff under my palms. His heartbeat was even and strong. Mine was all over the place. I leaned in and pressed my mouth to his. The second our lips touched, a shiver ran straight down my spine.

He did not move. Not even a little. No kiss back. His mouth stayed still against mine. Panic started fluttering in my chest. I eased back a fraction. One strap of the dress slid off my shoulder and more of my breast showed. I searched his face for anything. Some sign he was not standing there completely unmoved.

I was about to step away, humiliation burning through me, when his hand caught my waist. His eyes were not cold anymore. They had gone dark and hot. In one pull he yanked me against him. His other hand went into my hair and his mouth came down on mine hard enough that I forgot how to breathe.

This was nothing like the careful kiss I had started. This one took. It ate through whatever I had been trying to hold onto.

When he finally broke it we were both breathing hard. His hand on my waist was tight enough that I knew it would leave marks.

“Once you cross this threshold,” he said. His voice was low and rough. “There’s no going back.”

He was still a lot. Still intimidating. I smirked up at him anyway. “What, does Mr. Hayes need me to sign a liability waiver?”

Something moved in his eyes. Anger. Want. Both, maybe. His grip on my waist tightened. “You’re asking for trouble.”

“Maybe I am.”

That was it. Whatever he had been holding snapped. He picked me up like I weighed nothing and carried me toward the bedroom. My legs wrapped around his waist. The thin slip rode up and I was bare against him. His mouth found my neck. His teeth scraped the skin there while he lowered me onto the king bed.

Then his hands were everywhere. Sliding up my thighs. Pushing the lace higher. Cupping my breasts through the thin fabric. Every touch was exact. Deliberate. The hands of a man who knew exactly what he was doing.

Mine were not. I did not know where to put them or how hard to press against his skin. I tried the buttons on his shirt and made a mess of it. My inexperience was obvious. He took over, pulled the shirt off himself, and came back to me.

“You can touch me,” he said against my ear, voice low, and he put my palm on his chest and guided it down. “Don’t be afraid.”

I nodded. My breath snagged when his fingers went under the dress and found me already wet, even with how nervous I was. He slid one finger inside me and I gasped at how new it felt. My body locked up on its own.

“Relax,” Steve whispered. His other hand stroked my hair. “Breathe through it.”

I tried to do what he said. Then he added a second finger and stretched me a little and a small whimper came out of me anyway. He watched my face the whole time, reading me. His pupils were wide.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said. The strain in his voice made it sound like it would cost him if I said yes.

“Don’t stop,” I got out. My hips moved against his hand without me telling them to.

When he finally settled between my legs and I felt the head of his cock press against me, a spike of panic hit. He was a lot bigger than I had expected. Even his fingers had already hurt.

“Look at me,” Steve said, quiet but firm. He waited until my eyes met his. “Stay with me.”

He pushed in slow and gave me time to take him. The first stretch hurt. I dug my nails into his shoulders and went stiff under him.

“Breathe, Freya,” he said. He stayed perfectly still even though I could feel how tight his muscles were from holding back.

After a few moments the sharp part eased. What was left was this full, strange pressure that was not entirely bad. I gave a small nod. He started moving. Short, careful thrusts. His jaw was locked. His eyes were focused.

Slowly my body let him in. The hurt turned into heat low in my stomach. He felt that change. His rhythm got surer and I started gasping.

“That’s it,” he said, voice rough from holding back. “You feel incredible.”

His hand slid between us. His thumb found that spot at the center of me. Both things at once were too much. A surprised moan came out of my throat. I clenched around him without meaning to and a deep groan left his chest.

“Steve,” I said. I hated how needy it sounded.

“I’ve got you,” he said. He kept the same pace with his hips and kept circling with his thumb.

The pressure in me built in a way I had never felt before. I was heading toward something I did not have a name for. When it broke it knocked the air out of me. I cried out. My back arched. It came in waves and I pulsed around him over and over.

He sped up after that. The careful version of him slipped as he chased his own release. His breathing got messy. His fingers dug into my hips and he pulled me onto him with every thrust. When he came he shoved his face into my neck and a deep sound went through his chest while his body went tight over mine.

I thought that was it. I was wrong. He only stopped long enough to catch his breath, then rolled us so I was on top of him. His hands on my hips showed me how to move and we started again. The new angle hit different. Stronger than before.

“Steve,” I gasped, overwhelmed by it.

“Again,” he said, and his thumb found that same spot until my vision went soft.

I lost the time. The city lights outside smeared in the windows. Pleasure built and broke and built again. My body was not used to this much, not this long. After the third time — or the fourth, I could not tell — my arms and legs started shaking and would not stop.

“I can’t…” I whispered. My voice was wrecked from the noise I had been making.

His arms locked around me and he flipped us again.

“One more,” he said. He did not slow down even though I was already spent.

The last one hit so hard the edges of the room went away. I heard him say my name. He sounded strangely worried. I could not hold onto that. The dark was already there. The last clear thought I had was that I had badly underestimated what I was walking into with Steve Hayes.

I went under his arms. Completely spent. With a man I barely knew.