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what?” he croaked. Because he could hardly talk. “What have you had in your vagina before?”

“You mean besides your fingers?” Alice asked.

He couldn’t tell if she was asking a serious question or if she was trying to talk dirty, but either way, it had the same effect. He was so turned on he thought he might pop his cork if she so much as looked at him, which wouldn’t help Alice’s odds, no matter what position they were in.

“Yes, besides my fingers.”

“Well,” Alice said. “I have a hot-pink dildo I’m pretty fond of—”

“That’s enough,” Beau said. “Climb on. Before I embarrass myself. No more dirty talk.”

“That wasn’t dirty talk.”

“Someday, I’d really like to hear your rendition of dirty talk. It’s probably in Latin. But right now . . .”

Alice peeled off the negligee and climbed on top of him, completely nude. Her breasts were beautiful. He reached out and cupped them in his hands, feeling the hard little nipples against his palms.

“But right now, what?” Alice asked, taking hold of his cock and rising on her knees.

Beau inhaled sharply, anticipating the ecstasy to come. His eyes met hers. “Fuck me.”

There. That’s how you dirty talk.

Alice raised both eyebrows. She didn’t like being told what to do, and for a terrifying moment, Beau thought she might refuse, just on principle. But then she smiled and slowly lowered herself onto him.

Oh God. He closed his eyes and sighed as she slowly—very slowly—slid down his shaft.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh, Beau.”

The way she said his name, with such sweet surprise and rapture, made his heart thump and pound. Something was caught in his throat, and it terrified him, because it felt like a sob. And he was damn sure not going to start crying. There were some things a guy couldn’t recover from, and crying during sex was one of them.

Alice slid down a little farther, and Beau watched her face break out in total bliss. It was like watching the sun come out.

But then she winced.

“Are you okay?” he asked quickly.

“Yes, but I think you might be a bit wider than my hot-pink friend.”

She leaned forward and rested her hands on his chest and tentatively moved her hips. Beau groaned. He wanted to let Allie take her time and figure out what felt good and what didn’t, and he absolutely didn’t want her to experience any pain or discomfort. But good Lord, he was going to suffer.

She rose up and slowly slid back down. Then she did it again.

Yep. He was really going to suffer.

“You’re also warmer than my dildo.”

“That’s because, even on my worst day, I’m not an inanimate object.”

Alice moaned. “And you’re harder.”

Damn straight.

“And as smooth as satin,” she whispered, eyelids fluttering. Her lips parted as she slid all the way down, taking every inch of him in. “Beau, I’m so . . .”

“What, baby?”

“I’m so full. You’ve filled me completely.”

How stupid he’d been to worry about taking anything from this woman—not her virginity, not her spirit, not any living part of her. As she moved on top of him, seeking her pleasure like a fucking goddess, all he wanted to do was give.

Alice moved her hips, searching for that sweet spot that Beau had managed to hit with his fingers. She rose and fell, and if she started to lose her rhythm, Beau grabbed her hips and helped her find it again.

She was in good hands. Good, strong, kind, and gentle hands.

“Is it okay, Allie?” His voice sounded strained, and his face was flushed.

Alice stilled. “Am I hurting you?”

He laughed. “No, darlin’. I’ve literally never felt better in my life. But are you having a good time?”

“Mm . . . yes,” she said, rotating her hips. “A very good time.”

“Do that again. With your hips.”

“You like it?”

Beau moaned. “Damn, woman. You’re driving me wild.”

Driving Beau wild was an unexpected pleasure. It made her feel powerful and sexy. She loved watching the flush travel up his chest and neck—the way his cheeks turned splotchy and pink. She liked the sound of his breath hitching when she moved a certain way.

She rotated her hips. She moved back and forth, grinding herself against him and stimulating her clitoris. And then she rose up and came back down. Not quite all the way down. But pretty dang close. And yes, it hit the mass of nerve endings on the interior wall of her vagina, just where the elusive G-spot was supposed to be located.

She sat up straight—ooh, yes, right there—and took him all the way in.

Beau responded by bucking his hips. “Come on, Allie. Ride me.”

She started moving again, up and down, and soon, she was desperate for release. She wanted it harder. And faster.

Beau, sensing her energy shift, lifted her up and brought her down like she didn’t weigh a thing. And on every thrust—because he was thrusting now—she climbed higher and higher up the pleasure wave.

The headboard banged. Beau’s pillow slid onto the nightstand and knocked the lamp over. Rose petals flew everywhere. And they didn’t stop.

The room could catch fire, and they wouldn’t stop.

Alice rode the wave higher and higher . . . She teetered at the edge of the abyss, where pleasure and pain blended together, frantic to get over the edge. Then Beau brushed her clitoris with his thumb.

She cried out . . . She was falling . . .

No, she was flying.

The moment stretched into an eternity as she contracted again and again. Beau cried out, too, and she collapsed on his chest as he bucked beneath her. Only the sound of Beau’s frantically beating heart kept her from floating away.

He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tightly. “Oh, Allie,” he sighed.

Oxytocin spread throughout her body—the love hormone—making her sleepy and content. Beau stroked her back, humming gently, and she felt almost high.

Words formed in her head and eventually worked their way to her tongue. “That was so much better than I ever dreamed it would be. Thank you, Beau.”

He laughed softly. “Don’t thank me, Allie. I

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