He inches down, pulls me closer, closes his eyes with the tilt of his head. “Been thinking about your mouth since you first gave it to me. Can’t think about anything else.”

I suck in a breath at his admission. A pressure builds between my legs, reminding me of what all I’ve been thinking about. What I specifically thought about when I upped the stakes of the contest.

My head turns and his lips hit my temple.

“Uh . . . okay . . . something else?” he stammers into my hair.

I nod slowly, leaning back to look into his eyes. “Anything I want. This is what I want.”

My hands move down his body and take hold of his belt buckle. He groans at the brush of my fingertips against his erection.

He’s hard already. From almost kissing me?

Wetness pools between my legs as his breathing grows louder above me, as his grip on my waist threatens to bruise.

“Beth,” he moans my name before I even free him. Rousing at the very idea of what’s about to happen.

It’s so hot, so unexpected that my fingers fumble with the clasp and the belt seems to tighten instead of working lose.

“Shit.”

He laughs above me, then his hands leave my waist and take over where mine are failing. I wait, hands fisted against my stomach as he undoes the clasp on his belt and opens his pants. He grabs my wrist, forcing me to reach for him, scratching my knuckles against the zipper.

Hard flesh fills my palm. Smooth and warm.

“Reed?”

He’s staring at me through hooded eyes, his hands now back at my waist, fingers pulling at my dress. He tilts his head down. “Yeah?”

“What . . . what do you like? I want to make this good for you.” My hand explores him with tentative squeezes. Little pulses as I turn my wrist, sliding down his length.

So hard. My God, he’s so hard.

A greedy smile beams down at me. “I’m not going to have any problem with what you’re doing. But maybe a little harder?”

Nodding, I tighten around his base and pull back, watching his mouth fall open. My other hand forms to his hip. “Like that?”

“Mm. Fuck.” He winces through a moan, teeth scraping his bottom lip. “God, I’m so fucking hard. And your hand . . . fuck, Beth.”

“I love how you say my name.”

He straightens, takes his weight off the wall and stares down at me. His lips press against my temple. “Beth,” he whispers, moving to my cheek. “Beth.” His finger lifts my chin, and he groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “God, Beth.”

If he didn’t have his hands on me, I think I could float away. The rhythm I thought I had becomes clumsy. There’s no pattern, nothing predictable to my hand moving on his cock as he continues to work my name with his tongue. It’s so erotic how he gives it to me. Through moans, pressing it against my skin, whispering it into my hair. I’ve never been this turned on by a single word. And it’s my name. My name. Go figure.

“Gonna kiss you now.”

I open my eyes, leaning back to look at him. “But you didn’t win.”

The corner of his mouth twitches, and he stills my hand with one of his.

“I feel like I did,” he says, so close to my lips I can taste his breath.

He doesn’t mean because I’m jerking him off. He stops my hand for that reason, to make sure I understand, to eliminate any confusion. He pauses, waiting until I look up into his eyes from where I’m staring at his mouth, like a hungry little fiend.

“This is for me. You understand?”

I know why he tells me that. My fear from earlier.

“It’s for me too.”

He smiles, shifting us so it’s now my back against the wall. “No, this is for you.”

A blast of cool air chills my upper thighs. My dress is bunched around my waist, and he groans, either from the sight of me in black panties or from my grip that’s now tightened on his cock.

He cups my sex like he owns it, harsh and demanding.

“Reed,” I gasp, lifting my head and welcoming his kiss. It sears against my mouth, his tongue hot and wet, probing, seeking mine. I tilt my head and open for him, swallowing his dirty little noises. My hand begins pumping his cock as he slides his fingers through my slit.

“You’re going to drip all down my hand, aren’t you?” he asks, kissing along my jaw.

I answer with a whimper as he fucks me slowly. Two fingers inside while his thumb moves over my clit.

“What made you wet, sweetheart? My cock? Was it how hard I was for you? Or did you get wet just thinking about touching me.”

“I think it was when you said my name.”

“Beth,” he moans against my ear. “I say it every time I come. Do you know that? Ever since I met you, I can’t say anything else.”

My legs begin to shake. “Really? You . . . Reed, you do that?” I ask, breathlessly.

“Mm.” He thrusts his hips, fucking my hand as he curls his fingers inside me.

His lips move to my mouth, where he whispers filthy words between the hottest noises. He asks me if I want him wild, and if I’ll let him spend his time on me. He tells me he’s thought about doing more than this, and that he also thinks he could come just from the way I kiss him. There’s moments when it’s just the sound of us filling the room. Breathing, moving, stroking. I blush at how loud his fingers are inside me, and he tells me it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. He kisses my neck, my lips, my jaw. He asks me if I want to feel his teeth, and I gasp when he doesn’t wait for me to answer.

I drop my head against his shoulder when the world in front of me begins to blur. When my skin burns up from the inside out and the pressure becomes too much.

He swells in my palm. I’m melting between my legs. A groan tears from my throat as my body locks up.

“Reed, I’m . . .”

He wraps his arm around my waist, holding me up as I tighten around his fingers. Blood rushes in my ears, my free hand fists his shirt.

He growls into my hair.

Because he’s close? Because I’m coming? I’m too delirious to question why.

I moan when he slips out of me, and then realize he needs that hand to produce the handkerchief from this back pocket. His other hand is busy keeping me upright.

His body tightens, his breath hitches above me.

“Beth,” he pants, pumping into my fist as warm liquid coats my hand. His head falls back with a groan. “Beth. God, Beth.”

I can’t decide where to look. His gorgeous face, tensing through his orgasm. Or his cock as it twitches in my hand. Still hard. Still warm. I go between the two, trying not to miss too much of either one.

He grabs my wrist when I slide along his length once more, stopping me from smearing the come over the tip.

“Don’t kill me, woman.”

I turn my head up and he gives me a lazy smile.

“Sensitive?” I ask.

He nods slowly, then steps back. His cock falls from my hand. “I didn’t get any on your dress, did I?” he asks, squinting through the dim light.

I quickly examine the front of me, then look down into my hand. “Nope. Looks like I caught it all here.”

He gives me the handkerchief and I wipe my hand clean, tossing it into the trashcan after he gives me an odd look for offering it back.