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Before Rose could protest, she was hauled up to her feet and pushed onto the nearest bed with a soft bounce. He soon followed, landing half on top of her. He kissed her with hard, hungry kisses, moving from her mouth down the column of her neck then to her collarbone before zeroing in on his target.
    He buried his face in her cleavage, breathing in her scent, before yanking down the cups that confined her breasts. “Poor girls,” he said, laving them with his mouth and tongue and kneading them with his hands. Through her haze of arousal, Rose managed a laugh.
    He alternated between firm squeezes and gentle cupping, as if he was weighing them in his hands. When calloused fingertips brushed her pert nipples, she moaned openly. When he bent his head down to nibble and take as much of her as he could in his mouth, she thought she might orgasm right then and there. She’d never felt anything close to that before. This man owned her body and worked her sweet spots as if he’d memorized a manual.
    Experience , Rose thought. That was what made him so good. With her ex-boyfriend, they’d been each other’s first. The only sex she’d ever known before this was awkward and clumsy and, on her part, indifferent. In contrast, Nick had probably made love with dozens of women.
    Had sex, not made love , Rose corrected herself. That was what they were doing, having sex. Hot, dirty sex. Nothing more. It would be stupid to get the two mixed up.  
    “How do you get this off?” he demanded, running his hands over her body above the slip, looking for a zipper or anything that might unfasten it. He tugged at it and tried to roll it down, giving up when it wouldn’t budge. He tried rolling it up and grunted his frustration when that didn’t work, either. She helped him peel it off her, but all that struggling and delay obliterated the last vestiges of his self-control. He looked as incensed at the garment as Rose imagined he would be in the cage during a fight. As soon as he got it off her with one final pull, he grabbed at her flimsy lace thong next, ripping it right down the middle. Rose shrieked. That was so freaking hot.
    Nick kicked off the rest of his clothes angrily and then reached for a box of condoms sitting in plain view on the nightstand. He tore off the wrapper with his teeth and sheathed himself while moving in between her legs. Grabbing her roughly by the back of her knees, he angled his cock at her entrance. With a low groan, he rammed himself straight inside her.
    Rose gasped. He was big and thick and she felt stretched open in the most glorious way. She loved it.
    “Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he said as he started pumping wildly. His labored grunts and the loud slapping noises his body made as it connected with hers filled the air.
    Rose was momentarily stunned at the change in him. Gone was the shameless flirt by the pool and in the bar. Who was this ferocious, powerful creature fucking her like mad and taking pleasure from her body like he owned her? His searing gaze jumped from her face to her breasts then back again as he fucked her harder still. The headboard thumped into the wall and she inched up the bed with every thrust. She was thrilled and so crazy about this side of him, but also a little scared of the complete and utter control he had over her body, which made it a thousand times hotter.
    Leaning back on his haunches, he slowed the tempo and eased the pressure by a fraction. He slipped a hand between them to rub at her clit with the pad of his thumb.
    Rose let out a soft cry in between gasps.
    He stroked her, using just the right amount of pressure and drawing from her own wetness that was seeping out from where their bodies joined to ease the friction.
    She moaned, digging her nails into his forearm with one hand and fisting the sheets in another. He kept at it for a long while, his hand taking cues from the sounds she made and his hips thrusting into her in an even rhythm. A slow, scintillating