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of his fingers—everything tipped him toward her again.
    Elliott kissed her. The second kiss was harder even than the first. Her tongue stroked his, and when he sucked on it, then bit it gently, her answering gasp flooded him with an arousal so sharp it almost hurt.
    Everything around him turned to glass.
    “Harder,” Simone said into his mouth on the edge of a moan.
    He kissed her harder. Held her tighter. She slid the flat of her hands up his chest to pull him closer to her, tipping her head so he could get at the smoothness of her throat with his teeth.
    Oh, yes.
    Elliott dragged his mouth along her skin, tasting her. He found the curve of her collarbone and nipped it as he rubbed her against him, belly to crotch. Simone Kahan was intoxicating. He couldn’t get enough.
    He was not a man who lost himself, and yet at the sound of her murmured urging, Elliott found himself tumbling into that twisting, turning rabbit hole of desire he’d done his best to avoid for so long. With a groan, he fisted his fingers in the short length of her hair to pull her head back farther. Mouthing her jaw, he found the sweet spot just below it and sank his teeth into her flesh as he slid a hand between them. Up her skirt. Between her legs, he found her heat and slid his hand along smooth, silky panties.
    “Oh, fuck, yes,” she cried when his thumb circled the tight knot of her clit.
    That broke him out of the trance he’d unwittingly found himself in. Elliott, blinking, lifted his mouth from her. He’d left no permanent marks, though her pale skin was pink where he’d nibbled. It was harder to pull his hand from between her thighs. He wanted to slide his fingers in her heat and watch her squirm against him until her pussy clutched and she shuddered into climax. He wanted to do that to her. Make her come. Make her scream his name while she did it, too.
    He shoved her skirt up over her hips to expose her panties to him. Plain white, cut high on the leg, the damp silk molded itself to her pussy. He stroked her again. His fingers dug into the softness of her inner thigh, pinching lightly. When she shook and shivered, moaning, Elliott did it a little harder.
    Her blue eyes, the color of a late summer sky, opened and looked into his. Her pupils had gone wide and dark, her gaze unfocused for a moment, until she blinked. Smiled.
    “More,” Simone whispered.
    Elliott pulled away. His cock was so hard it ached, and she had to have felt it against her, but Simone didn’t even glance downward. She frowned, eyes narrowing without leaving his.
    “What?” she asked.
    “This is … “
    “Delicious,” Simone murmured. “Delightful.”
    She took his hand and pressed it to her body again. Not against her clit, but at the softness of her inner thighs. The marks his fingers had left. She curled his fingers, urging him again to pinch and squeeze her.
    “More,” she said.
    With a low, helpless groan, he bit again into the curve of her shoulder. Simone bucked beneath him, spreading her legs and tilting her hips to press her pussy against his hand. Elliott dragged the bluntness of his nails over her skin.
    It would be too much. Too hard. She would scream, but not in pleasure. She’d twist away from him, look disgusted or worse, betrayed. But then he slipped his fingers inside her, finding her slick and hot and ready for him.
    Elliott kissed her again, tasting blood. Last week he’d fucked a blonde who’d barely moved beneath him. She’d faked an orgasm and lied about it when he tried to really make her come, pushing his mouth away from her clit, saying she’d had enough. The week before that, he’d pulled his lover’s hair a little too hard, not even on purpose, and she’d squealed in such outrage he’d lost all interest in fucking her. But Simone moved beneath him like a dream, responding to his every touch. Every stroke, every pinch.
    Every bite.
    She arched beneath him when he bit again, scraping his teeth along her skin. Too much, he