Runaway Wolfes of Manhattan Three - Helen Hardt Page 0,35

my back. “You’re so beautiful,” he said.

“Bed,” I said. “Please.”

“This isn’t a race, Riley.”

No, not a race. But I was so afraid I’d freak out if we didn’t just get to it.

“I know that. I just want you.”

“I want you too.”

“Let me get a condom out of my pocket.”

“Don’t need it. I’m on birth control.”

Shit. Another reminder of my past. My father made sure I was on birth control as soon as I blossomed. He didn’t want any evidence of his transgressions.

“Still, we just met.”

“I’m not very experienced. I told you. So unless you have something you’re hiding—”

“Me? I’m an open book. I don’t hide things.”

I widened my eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know, Riley. What could I possibly mean?”

I cocked my head. Was he…angry with me? “Matt, please. Don’t ruin this.”

“I have no intention of ruining anything.”

“Take me to bed. Please.”

“Fuck.” He pulled the tie out of his own hair, and his locks cascaded over his shoulders like a lion’s mane.

Matt was a lion, and I was his prey.

Oddly, I was okay with that.

“I don’t know what you’re hiding, Riley,” he said, “but I know it’s something.”

“I’m not—”

He quieted me with two fingers on my lips.

“Stop it. I don’t care. Not tonight. I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you. You do something to me. Something different. I feel like…” He shook his head. “Fuck.” Then he crushed his lips to mine.

That earlier kiss in the tub? The one that was gentle?

This one was anything but.

He devoured my mouth. Took, like a lion taking what was his.

Surrender to it, Riley, I begged myself.

Let your body lead you. Forget your mind for one fucking minute!

I leaned into his kiss.

Melted into his arms and surrendered.

His dick was hard, and it throbbed against the towel still covering me.

Tonight. Tonight I’d find out what all the fuss was about.

Tonight was for me.

For Matt and for me.

He trailed his fingers over my shoulders and down my arms, sending tingles racing through me.

My nipples stiffened, and I pushed into his chest, wishing I could whisk away the towel but knowing I had to get to the dark bedroom first.

My body was on fire. Truly on fire, and—

No!

When unwanted images tried to surface, I tamped them down.

Nothing would ruin this night for Matt and me. Nothing.

I was going home tomorrow. Going home to help my brothers deal with the fallout of my father’s murder.

Going home, where I’d have to reveal the ultimate truth of my relationship with my father, for my brothers still didn’t know everything.

That would be difficult.

I deserved this. This one night of passion and desire and nirvana with this wonderful man.

And damn it, I would have it.

Matt broke the kiss with a loud pop and inhaled deeply.

“Bedroom,” I said. “I want to be in the dark.”

“Why?”

“I just…do.”

“Whatever you need.” He pulled me to the bedroom and didn’t turn on the light.

I let the towel drop to the floor.

My open suitcase lay on the bed where I’d begun to pack it. He set me down and closed the bag, tossing it to the floor. Then he joined me on the bed, his body covering mine.

He was kissing me again. He held his weight on his arms so as not to crush me, but the kiss was full of passion and need. So much need.

He rolled over then, pulling me with him, until we were lying side by side, our mouths still joined.

His erection nudged hot against my flesh.

And yes, I wanted it.

I wanted it inside me.

I wanted him inside me.

Such a new feeling, but dwelling on its newness only invited other unwanted feelings and images, so I didn’t dwell.

I surrendered to the moment and nudged him. “Please.”

“Not yet,” he said.

“Now. Please.”

“But I want to explore every inch of you, baby. We have all night.”

Explore? Even in the dark, if he explored too much he’d find my burns. I couldn’t let that happen. “You can explore me later. Right now I want you inside me, Matt. Please.”

“Fuck,” he groaned. Then he rolled on top of me and slid inside me. He groaned again. “God, you’re tight.”

Tight, yes, and he burned. But it was a good burn. A necessary burn. A burn I craved.

For when Matteo Rossi entered me, I reclaimed my body.

It was mine.

Not anyone else’s.

Just mine.

I wanted this. This was my choice.

And I reveled in it.

“Trying to go slow,” he gritted out. “Trying—”

“It’s okay,” I said. “Do what you need to do.”

“I’ll make this up to you, Riley.” He

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