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. please . . .”
    “Please what?” he panted, his voice a ragged growl.
    “Please . . . don’t stop.”
    “Ah, I won’t.”
    He drove into her, his cock like some heavy point of pleasure in her body. The spanking was burning her skin. But she loved it. Needed it.
    One more hard thrust, one more hard smack, and she fell, tumbling, into that dark place. Lights flashed behind her eyes. Pleasure roared through her system. And as her sex clenched in exquisite agony, Dante tensed behind her.
    “Ah, God, Kara . . . I’m coming.”
    He pumped into her. His hand pressed down on her back, and she loved hearing his groans and cries. Knowing he was coming into her.
    When it was over, he fell on top of her. His breath was warm at the back of her neck. She was half-numb. Barely able to think. Unable to move.
    After several minutes, he shifted, rolling onto his side, pulling her with him. He settled her head on his chest. His heart was a hammering beat against her cheek.
    Had this really happened?
    This was, by far, the best sex she’d ever had in her life. And part of it was the realization of her fantasies: Sex with her girlhood crush. The spanking. But part of it was simply him .
    Dante.
    Don’t get all mushy .
    No, she wouldn’t do that. Not for a long time, if ever again. She’d paid too dearly for it in the past. With her sense of self. She wasn’t willing to surrender that to any man. But her body . . . Well, that was something else. That, she had loved. More than she’d ever imagined.
    What did that say about her? But she was too tired, too entirely spent, to think about it. To think about how much she had trusted Dante, to allow him to do these things to her. She didn’t understand it. But now she wanted to simply enjoy being there, Dante’s warm, solid body next to hers. His scent in her head. The scent of sex.
    There would be plenty of time to question it all later. Tomorrow, if he let her stay the night. He didn’t seem inclined to take her home at the moment. Which was just fine with her. She was happy there.
    Happy . . . for the first time in a long time.
     
     
    When she opened her eyes it was because the sun shone, pale and golden, through her closed lids. She opened them slowly, letting them adjust to the daylight.
    It was a bit gray outside, the Seattle sky heavy with clouds, but with the morning sun piercing through here and there. Nothing unusual for January in this city. What was unusual was the way she felt.
    She was a little sore, inside and out, but it felt good. And Dante’s body next to hers felt even better. Even stranger was the fact that she’d slept through the night. A deep sleep, uninterrupted by dreams. She wasn’t a good sleeper. It was worse, usually, when she tried to sleep with a lover. She’d lie awake for hours, wake up half a dozen times in the night, hyperaware of every movement, the sound of the other person’s breathing. How odd that she’d slept so soundly with Dante.
    Dante .
    She turned onto her side, facing him, and found him looking at her.
    Her pulse sped up.
    There was even more gold in his brown eyes in the light of day as he looked at her. Tiny golden flecks surrounding the darker centers, which were a rich whiskey brown at the edges of the pupils. And his lashes were so dark, so thick . . .
    “Hey.” His voice was rough with sleep.
    “Hey.”
    She smiled. She couldn’t help it. Couldn’t even consider that this might be one of those awkward morning-afters. But he smiled back. Her body surged. Need and a sudden, aching warmth that had nothing to do with sex.
    Did it?
    He propped himself up on one arm, looking down at her. She had one moment to wonder what her hair must look like, if she had marks from the pillowcase on her face. But she was too dazzled by him, by the dimples flashing in his cheeks, the dark stubble shadowing his jaw, making him even more handsome, more masculine, than ever. It was hard to think about anything else. Hard to be self-conscious