22. Dakota

The house was quiet with just the two of us. Natalie, Jaxon, and the kids had left for Christmas dinner at the elder Slates' home. Braxton wasn't interested in seeing his parents after the debacle I'd witnessed in Hartford following Jaxon's 1000 th game, and neither was I. My instinct was to protect Braxton in the same way he had always protected me, so anyone who was unkind to him was on my shit list, regardless of their relation to the man I was falling for.

We ordered takeout from the only local place open, ate by candlelight, and were curled up on the couch before a roaring fire, as he'd promised when we landed in Minneapolis.

I had to admit, he was onto something with the suggestion. Nothing was more comfortable than cuddling with him as the heat of the nearby flames licked our skin. We hadn't even changed out of our "matching" pajamas. It was a lazy day, but one of the best I'd ever had.

Honestly, any day spent with Braxton was a great day. Each one better than the last.

There was only one thing that would make this day more perfect. I was beyond ready to give Braxton the piece of myself I hadn't known I was saving for him.

Head on his chest, I threw one leg over his, sighing at the physical closeness we shared and how easy it was to simply exist together.

"Good Christmas?" Braxton's chest vibrated beneath me at those words.

Sighing, I smiled, eyes trained on the glow of the Christmas tree in the darkened room. "The best."

His large palm ran up the length of my back and then back down, settling on the bare patch of skin exposed by my crop top. "Would you believe me if I said I felt the same?"

Turning in his arms, I peered up at him. The firelight danced off his features, giving his eyes a golden glow. He was a gorgeous man—we were talking cover model-worthy—but it wasn't his good looks that stole my breath away. No, it was the way he looked at me. The expression of pure love on his face made me feel cherished. I knew without a doubt that he believed I was his future, and I was done pretending I didn't want it to be true. Together, we could create the family I'd always wished I had.

Braxton's free hand brushed an errant curl from my face, and I leaned into his touch. This was home, being held in his arms. I didn't need anything more. He was enough.

It was scary to think I had fallen so helplessly for a man I'd only known a few months, but here I was. I couldn't deny it any longer. I was in love with Braxton Slate. The stubborn, charming man had gotten under my skin, taking his time working his way into my life, never giving up on me no matter how hard I'd pushed him away. His adorable three-year-old wingman certainly hadn't hurt his case, either. How could you not love a man as patient and kind as Braxton? It simply didn't seem possible. And I was done fighting it.

"You've given me no reason not to believe you." I gave him a small smile.

Dipping his head, he brushed his lips against mine, sparking electricity along my skin. It was tender and slow, but it was the first kiss of our forever—of that, I was sure.

Needing more, I climbed onto his lap, deepening the kiss, sliding my tongue against his, and swallowing his groans as his cock swelled to life beneath me. Unable to help myself, I rocked against him, chasing the pleasure the friction provided.

Tearing his mouth away, Braxton dropped his head to my chest, his harsh breathing filling the silent room. "Baby, you gotta slow down."

I was done playing it slow, playing it safe. I wanted this. No, I needed this.

Running my fingers through his dark hair, I mused, "You know, there's one more piece of research I need for my book, and only you can help me."

Lifting his head, Braxton's brows were furrowed. "You're thinking about your book right now?"

When I chewed on my lower lip, his eyes fixated on my mouth. Tugging his hair so that he would see that I meant the following words, I waited until his eyes locked on mine before replying, "I don't know what it's like to fuck a hockey player."

Whiskey eyes flared a moment before his lids lowered to half mast, lust filling his gaze. Wrapping both arms around me, he squeezed me tight to his chest.

"You're worth the wait. I refuse to rush you." His voice was husky, bordering on pained.

"You're not." I shoved at his chest until he loosened his hold enough for me to capture his face in my hands. "I get it. You're being careful with me because I've given you every reason to be afraid that I'll spook and run. But I won't. I've been waiting for this my whole life. Waiting for you."

His eyes closed, and my name was said like a prayer, "Dakota."

"You're it, Braxton. I finally see it. I'm just sorry it took me so long."

A shaky breath flew past his lips, and his eyelids raised. The tenderness staring back at me was like a sledgehammer to the chest. Warmth spread from my head to my toes. He was everything I never knew I needed.

"I would have waited forever for you, Firefly," he breathed.

"I know." I caressed his cheeks with my thumbs. "But I'm done waiting. Forever starts today." Sheepishly, I dropped my eyes. "If that's okay with you."

"Fuck," Braxton cursed. "Of course, it's okay with me." The words were said softly, but the punishing kiss that followed was anything but.

Moaning into his mouth, I slid my hands to his shoulders, anchoring myself against the onslaught of emotions that swirled within me. Forget emotions; my body was on fire, needing to get closer. Hands gripped my ass, and before I knew what was happening, we were moving across the room.

Braxton carried me into my bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us. We didn't make it to the bed. My ass met with the hard wood of the dresser right inside the door as Braxton stood between my open thighs, devouring my mouth as his pelvis ground against mine. My head fell back against the wall, my breathing changing to pants as he kissed a path down my neck, licking the hollow at the base of my throat.

Murmuring against my skin, his words were breathy. "Do you have any idea how many times I've pictured this? That small taste in your living room only made me crave you more."

A whimper escaped my parted lips. Hearing the desperation in Braxton's voice only spurred me on, and my fingers grasped the hem of my top, wrenching it over my head.

"Fuck, you're beautiful." Braxton's words were genuine as he drank in the sight of my naked chest.

Needy, I whined, "You gonna look, or are you gonna touch? I need you, Braxton. Don't make me beg."

Groaning, he closed the distance between us, palming my breasts with his hands, and I hissed when his thumbs grazed the nipples. "Oh, Firefly. I will give you the world. All you ever have to do is ask."

"You," I rasped. "All I want is you."

Hooded eyes met mine, and a corner of his lips quirked up. "You've had me from the first time I laid eyes on you, sweetheart."

My blood was boiling, causing my head to swim. "I want to touch you. Please," I begged.

Taking a step back, Braxton ripped his shirt off, and I sighed. God, he was gorgeous. His muscles bunched with each ragged breath he took. My fingers itched to roam over the ridges carved from countless hours in the gym. His chest and abdomen were one thing, but it was the sharp V of his hips that had me tugging my lower lip between my teeth. It was a road map leading to the part of him that would claim me as his.

Cockiness seeped into Braxton's husky voice. "For someone who didn't want to date an athlete, you sure do appreciate the view."

"Shut up and get over here."

My clit pulsed painfully behind the fabric of my pajama shorts. I needed a relief only Braxton could supply.

Stalking closer slowly, he stepped out of reach when I extended my arms. His chuckle grated on my exposed nerves. Lost to lust, I wasn't in the mood to play games with him tonight.

"Tell me how badly you need me, baby," he teased.

Narrowing my eyes, I hooked both thumbs into the waistband of my shorts. Lifting my ass, I shimmied them down my legs, taking my underwear with them. I kicked them dramatically in his direction, and Braxton caught them with ease before bringing them to his nose and inhaling deeply.

Spreading my legs, I let him see the arousal coating my pussy and leaking down my inner thighs. "Why don't you see for yourself," I taunted.

Whatever control he had snapped, and Braxton closed the gap between us, notching his concealed erection against my clit as he fisted a hand in hair, tugging my head back to kiss me without restraint. I could barely breathe with the way his tongue dominated my mouth, but the lack of oxygen only made the throbbing need between my legs grow more intense.

Hands grazed over my skin, and I arched into every touch, demanding more.

Ripping his lips from mine, Braxton panted in my ear. "I need to be inside you. Now. I can't wait."

Oh shit. This is really happening.

Now would be an excellent time to come clean about my inexperience, but I was too far gone, and knowing Braxton, he would more than likely withdraw. If he knew how monumental this moment was for me, he would want to make it "special." But in my mind, it already was. I had given myself over to this man, body and soul. I didn't need candles and music, or to be treated like I was made of glass because it was my first time.

It was better to just grin and bear it. It couldn't be that bad, right?

Yeah, that's why you can't even force yourself to use a dildo. But whatever you need to tell yourself.

Braxton slipped his hand between our bodies, groaning when he brushed the wetness seeping from my core. "God, baby, I think you're ready."

Glad one of us thinks so.

Hips bucking against his hand, I whined when he withdrew, but he'd only pulled enough to shimmy out of his pajama pants. With how I was spread, he easily rubbed his exposed length through my slit. I was wound so tight; I was pretty sure I could come like this—flesh against flesh—not even needing penetration.

Might make it easier if you come first.

The angle was just right with my perch on the dresser. His hips were resting a few inches below mine, allowing his upward thrusts to rub against my clit.

"Right there, just like that," I rasped.

"You like that?" Braxton's lips curved against my neck with my head thrown back. He nipped the sensitive skin, and I squealed, causing him to chuckle. Gripping my hips painfully, his voice took on a gravelly quality. "But I have something else I know you'll like more."

Okay. You can do this. Don't forget to breathe. It'll be over before you know it, and then you won't be a virgin anymore.

"Dammit." The curse drew me from my mental pep talk.

"What's wrong?" I asked, noting how Braxton's eyes were trained to where our bodies would soon join.

"Don't have a condom." His forehead dropped to mine, his breath fanning my face.

"I'm on the pill, and I'm clean," I offered, for once glad my heavy teenage periods had put me on birth control before I became sexually active.

"There's been no one since my last checkup. And I've never gone bare."

"Then we're fine."

Braxton's eyes rose to meet mine. "Are you sure? There's still a risk."

I knew what he was asking. Would I be okay if there was an unintended consequence of our coupling? The answer was yes. While it wouldn't be ideal, I knew Braxton would take care of me, take care of us—if tonight resulted in an us—and not just out of obligation. He'd made it clear time and time again that I was his endgame. It had taken me longer to get there, but I knew now that he was mine. If life threw us a curveball, we would handle it together.

Nodding, I brushed away the lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. "You're worth the risk."

Gripping the back of my neck, he pulled my mouth to his for a quick, hard kiss. Breaking away, he breathed, "Fuck, Dakota. If I weren't already in love with you, that would have done it."

My heart hammered against my ribcage. I already knew he loved me, but this was the first time he'd said it. That made this moment all the more perfect.

"Show me how much you love me."

Lost in a daze, his eyes sharpened, realizing his slip of tongue. But seeing that I wasn't afraid, wasn't running, spurred him on and one hand dropped to his cock, guiding it against my core once more, coating it with my arousal before notching at my entrance.

I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine.

Without another word of warning, Braxton shifted, pulling my hips to the edge of the dresser and slamming inside with a single stroke.

I'm not fine.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This hurts like a bitch. Why the hell do romance authors lie about a little pinch? I'm on fucking fire!

My internal panic matched my external reaction—a too-loud yelp flying past my tightly pinched lips as my fingernails dug into the flesh of Braxton's shoulders.

Blood roared in my ears, and tears leaked from my eyes as I tried to breathe through the pain. Nothing was helping.

"Dakota?" I could vaguely hear the panic in Braxton's voice. "Baby, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

I couldn't move, too afraid that the slightest shift would cause more agony.

"Dakota!" Braxton was practically yelling now. Then he stepped out of my arms, breaking the connection between our bodies.

My eyes were tightly shut, but I heard him breathe out in disbelief, "Holy shit."

He knows.

It didn't matter that he was no longer inside me; the burning sensation remained.

Okay. I'm gonna count to three and then open my eyes.

One.

Two.

Three.

From across the room, amber eyes begged me—no, they pleaded with me—to tell him it wasn't true. But that was the one thing I couldn't do.

Glancing down, I got my first glimpse of Braxton's dick. While it wasn't porn star big—though it had felt that way mere moments ago—it wasn't exactly small either. And right there on it was the unmistakable proof of my innocence. A streak of crimson stained his length.

"I don't know what to say." My voice was whisper-quiet.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I could hear the pain in his voice. He thought I didn't trust him, but that wasn't it at all. It took all my trust to let him take my virginity.

My chest rose and fell with the force of my heavy sigh. "Because I knew you would have convinced me to wait. I'm done waiting. I wanted this. Tonight. With you."

Braxton ran a hand through his dark hair, and I dreaded the response to my admission.

"I would rather die than know I hurt you, Dakota. And believe me, if you'd told me, I wouldn't have taken you so suddenly." He cursed under his breath. "And I sure as hell wouldn't have done so on top of a fucking dresser."

Gripping the edge of the dresser in question, I jumped down, wincing as my feet hit the floor, sending a shockwave up my legs to where I was unfortunately still hurting. Stepping gingerly to where Braxton stood, I looped my arms around his neck. "Then show me how you would have done it. Please."

He shook his head. "Dakota, I can't."

"Can't what?" My temper flared to life, and I took a step back. "It's not something you can return, Braxton. Whether you finish the job or not, the damage is done."

"Not making me feel any better with your choice of words." He groaned, covering his face.

You know what? I'm done with this hero routine. It's time to take what I want.

I used his lack of sight to my advantage. Closing the distance between us, I fisted his cock, giving a strong tug. Those brown eyes flew open in shock, and he tried to step back, but I tightened my grasp, keeping him in place.

"How about that?" I challenged, stroking up and down his shaft. "Does that make you feel better?"

"Dakota . . ." There was a warning in his tone.

"I gave you a part of me tonight. A piece no one else will ever get. Come on, tell me that doesn't turn you on. To know that no man will ever own me like you do." I played to his primal possessive side. It had to be hiding in there somewhere.

A low rumble sounded from deep within his chest. "Fucking hell," he muttered seconds before scooping me into his arms and lowering us to the bed.

Hovering above me, braced on his elbows, Braxton brushed my cheek with his knuckles. "We're going to do it right this time."

"Yes, sir," I teased with a smirk.

Eyes darkening, Braxton nipped at my lower lip hard enough to cause a bite of pain before soothing the area with his tongue. It was a simple move, but my back bowed off the bed, seeking contact with his body.

His nose teased against mine as he murmured, "Time for me to kiss it better."

My mind was hazy, and his words didn't register until he flipped us over. Stunned, I peered down at him, but his face disappeared quickly when large hands gripped my ass and shifted my body over his chest until I was practically seated on his face.

Awareness dawned and I tried to climb off, but his arms banded around my thighs, locking me in place. "Not so fast, Firefly."

Chest heaving, I peeked between my thighs to find twin pools of molten gold staring back at me. Oh God, the view of his face half hidden beneath my pussy was dirty as hell, but I couldn't look away.

"What are you doing?" Okay, that was a stupid question. I knew precisely his intentions, so why did I need to hear him say it?

Darting his tongue out, he held eye contact as he swirled it around my clit. I was never more thankful for an empty house because the sound that left my mouth was anything but quiet. Braxton had a magic tongue, and I had a feeling he knew it.

"Before I claim your pussy for good this time, I want it fucking drenched. I want to be drowning in your juices as they pour down my throat."

"Oh my God." I threw my head back on a moan.

I wrote sex for a living, but nothing could have prepared me to have a man talk dirty to me.

"Now, do me a favor, baby. Grab the headboard, and don't hold back. Ride my face like the good girl I know you are."

There wasn't time to ponder the fact that he'd called me a good girl in the proper context this time because his tongue went to work, licking slowly before flicking quickly, changing pace and keeping me guessing. Tentatively, I rolled my hips, and Braxton hummed against my slick flesh, the vibrations spurring me on. Any thought I might have had about suffocating the poor man vanished as I chased my pleasure. As soon as I had a good rhythm going, Braxton flattened his tongue against my clit, inviting me to use the pressure to get off how I wanted.

Panting, my body coiled tighter and tighter. "Oh, fuck, Braxton."

I wasn't going to last much longer, my body jerking violently atop his face, using my grip on the headboard for leverage. A frustrated whine left my lips, trying to find the right pace and angle to get me off. I was so close but needed something more.

Braxton sensed my struggle, a hand joining his mouth between my legs. A fingertip teased at my entrance, and I froze, gasping.

His free hand rubbed up and down my thigh in a soothing gesture, and he pulled his tongue away from my pussy long enough to breathe out, "If anything hurts, we stop. Just relax. One finger. I promise to be gentle."

I swallowed, trying to wrap my head around the fact that, at some point tonight, his dick would find its way back inside me. A finger didn't come close to its girth. I could do this.

"Do you trust me?" The words were laced with a quiet desperation, a need to know the answer.

My head nodded automatically. I didn't need to think about it. "Yes."

"I've got you. Relax."

His finger was still right there, so I shifted above him in a show of my complete trust. My walls gripped the digit as it slid inside up to the knuckle, and I couldn't take it any deeper. A relieved sigh that it didn't hurt flew past my lips, although the fit was tight.

"That's my girl," Braxton praised. "Just like that. You've got this, and I've got you."

Lips pressed a soft kiss against my clit, and my hips bucked. The finger inside me shifted, slipping in and out slowly, gently, as promised. Braxton's teasing tongue was back, swirling and nibbling, sending me closer to the edge. I was gripping the headboard so hard that my knuckles turned white.

But what sent me over the top was when he curled that finger, massaging a secret spot deep inside me. Stars burst behind my eyes, and I screamed as my body chased the onslaught of pleasure, grinding on Braxton's face. Wave after wave rolled over me, and I wasn't sure it would ever stop. I didn't want it to stop.

"Give me more, baby," he rasped before he pulled my clit between his teeth and tugged hard.

An animalistic sound split the air. I couldn't control it as a second orgasm barreled into me, and I swore my soul left my body. It was as if I was hovering from above, watching the scene in slow motion as Braxton pleasured me. We looked so fucking hot together that I wondered if I would ever be able to watch porn again. Honestly, I didn't need to. Reliving this night over and over in my mind would be enough inspiration to last me a lifetime. But I had a feeling Braxton would provide me with new material a thousand times over.

Trembling, I dropped my forehead to the wood in front of my face. My lungs burned as I sucked in ragged breaths, and there was a static sound in my ears.

Hands slipped up my hips to grab me around the waist, and I jumped. My mind was fuzzy in my lust-induced haze, and for half a second, I forgot where I was.

Surrendering to Braxton's hold, my body went limp as he dragged it down his torso until my head was tucked beneath his chin. "You were fucking perfect."

My limbs were heavy, but I managed to graze my hand against his hard length, pressing insistently against my thigh.

Braxton sucked in a sharp breath. "Baby, tonight is for you. Honestly, I'm fine if you let me hold you the rest of the night. I don't need anything more."

That was the shot of adrenaline I needed to wake up. He was not off the hook. The night didn't end until I was coming around his cock. And yes, I knew that penetration orgasms weren't a guarantee and most women couldn't obtain them, but Braxton wouldn't allow himself to come before me. He'd proven that time and time again. I was confident if he could find that spot inside of me—that he'd pressed with his finger—with his dick, it wouldn't be a problem. The only remaining uncertainty would be whether I could relax enough to enjoy it.

Pushing off his chest, I knelt beside his prone form. "I want all of you," I declared.

Raking a hand down his face, Braxton groaned. "And you have all of me. Sex doesn't change that."

He was a white knight. I knew that, despite his cocky fa?ade when we first met. Braxton was proving why I hadn't told him I was a virgin. He was trying to protect me, so it would take a bold move to push him past the breaking point.

That's when I noticed the slickness smeared across his chest and abdomen. It was a trail left behind from when he'd lowered me against his body. He wanted me drenched, and he'd made it happen.

Drastic times call for drastic measures.

My tongue peeked out to wet my lower lip. Braxton tracked the move with his eyes, and I held his gaze as I lowered my lips to his chest, licking a path through the lingering proof of my arousal.

A shudder rolled through Braxton, and his breathing halted for a second. "Jesus, Dakota. You're going to be the death of me."

Defiant, I demanded, "Give me what I want."

See? I can be one of those badass female main characters, too.

"Because if you don't, I'll keep licking myself off you. And when I'm done with that, my mouth might wander other places . . ." I gripped his dick for emphasis.

His hips surged into my hand. In this position, I felt powerful and in control.

Before now, I'd never understood why women willingly gave blowjobs. Frankly, it had always sounded terrible to me—the gagging part in particular. But I was quickly learning the appeal lay in bringing a man to his knees, forcing him to lose control, being the cause. I could get on board with that.

Braxton saw my hungry gaze and flipped us, his lips brushing against my ear. "Don't even think about it."

Whining in protest, I still had my hand locked around him. Stroking from root to tip, it was a silent warning that I would take charge if he didn't proceed as planned.

I wasn't expecting his larger hand to cover mine as he showed me how he liked to be touched. "Use pressure at the base, then twist your wrist as you move to the head," he instructed. His lips brushed against my neck when I did exactly as he said. "Fuck, yes. Just like that, Firefly."

"I need you, Braxton," I whispered.

"I know, baby."

Turning on his side, he allowed me to continue stroking him as his fingers trailed over my bare skin. The combination of his occasional throaty groans and the reverent graze of rough palms caressing my breasts had me shifting restlessly, seeking relief. Again. I almost couldn't imagine penetrative sex being better than anything we'd done so far. But I guess that was my inexperience talking.

Sex was the pinnacle. The thing men got down on their knees and begged for. The thing women did unthinkable things like waxing their pubic hair for. Sure, for many, it was about feeling good. But I was searching for a connection, the merging of souls. I knew that's what I would find with Braxton.

So caught up with the sensations flooding my senses, I barely noticed Braxton's hand slipping between my thighs. This time, I wasn't scared or nervous. Biting back a whimper when the rough pad of a fingertip lightly circled my clit, my hips lifted, allowing him to sink inside.

"You feel like heaven," Braxon rasped in my ear. "I'm gonna get you warmed up, and then I'm going to stake my claim. I'll be your first and your last. I promise you that."

Looping my free arm around his neck, I pulled his mouth to mine, letting his tongue stroke inside my mouth the same way his finger pulsed inside my pussy. A second finger joined the first, and I jolted in surprise at the stretch, but it wasn't painful, so I relaxed into the pressure as it built with each thrust. Braxton's palm pressed against my clit as his fingers worked my tight passage.

My hand fell away from his cock as the first tremors of an orgasm built between my thighs. Toes curling, every muscle pulled taut moments before I exploded, gasping as it stole the breath from my lungs.

Braxton worked me down slowly, but I was a live wire—every nerve ending felt exposed. The tiniest brush of his lips on my skin had me squealing breathlessly. I wasn't sure I could take any more, but determination won out. I hadn't come this far to give up now.

"More. Please." I couldn't control my heart rate. I was pretty sure any more pleasure would cause me to pass out.

"Tenacious little thing, aren't you?" he teased.

My head thrashed from side to side. "Fuck me, Braxton."

Eyes closed, I could hear the smile in his voice. "Sure you don't want another pre-game orgasm first?"

I whimpered. He was lucky I couldn't feel my legs right now, otherwise I would mount him and take what I wanted.

"You look so pretty, flushed and needy," Braxton mused, and I forced my eyes open to find him gazing adoringly at me. The same way his brother looked at his wife—like she was his reason for living.

A rush of warmth spread over me. This was love.

"Make love to me. Please," I begged.

"Okay, sweetheart. I think you're finally ready."

Shifting back into position above me, he used a knee to part my thighs and settled his hips between them. Cradling my face, he pressed his forehead to mine. Against my lips, he whispered, "We're going to take this nice and slow. Kiss me through it, and if anything hurts, tap my shoulder three times and I'll stop. You come first, no matter what. Understood?"

I managed a nod and felt the tip of him press just inside as his lips descended, tongue sliding into my mouth. Braxton's soft murmurs against my lips between kisses kept me relaxed, and I accepted more of him. He wasn't kidding about going slowly. Time stood still, like the universe knew this was a monumental moment in our lives. He wasn't just taking my virginity; he was claiming me for all time. I was his and he was mine, from this day forward.

Braxton finally bottomed out, groaning at our connection. Could he feel it, too? This charged electricity in the room now that our bodies were joined?

Pulling his lips from mine, whiskey pools of desire scanned my face, likely searching for any signs of discomfort. I mentally berated myself for not confiding in him. While he'd proven that he would have put a stop to us having sex tonight, there was something to be said about the way he took his time in preparing me, making sure that it wouldn't be painful. It was much better this time around. There was a stretching sensation, a feeling of fullness, but other than that, I was fine.

"You okay?" Braxton's voice was gruff.

Toying with a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead, I purred, "I'm perfect."

A corner of his lips quirked up. "That you are, Firefly. Perfect for me."

Growing restless, I tried moving my hips, and Braxton dropped his head to my shoulder. Breath hot in my ear, he panted, "I'm about ready to explode, baby. Not sure how long this will last."

Emboldened at the notion that I could be the source of his unraveling, I slid my hands beneath his shoulders, skimming over the bunched muscles of his back until I reached his tightly toned ass. Hockey players might wear a lot of bulky gear, not allowing their physique to be showcased while they played, but damn if they weren't ripped. Especially their lower half—those legs had to power them across the ice, and I bit back a moan thinking of how this man, in particular, carved it up with his smooth strides.

Digging my fingers in, I pulled him deeper into our connection as I arched against him.

"Holy shit," Braxton breathed out. "I wasn't living until right now. Like I've been waiting for this moment to wake up and breathe."

Urging him on with my grasp, I replied, "Take me to the stars, baby. The way only you can."

That was all it took to get Braxton to move on his own. Easing his hips back, his length slid against me, dragging along my most sensitive parts before he snapped them, his glutes tensing with the effort to drive back inside. Repeating the process, his thrusts were slow and measured. I could tell he was still mindful of this being my first time and was trying his best to be careful. But I needed more.

"Faster," I pleaded on a moan.

A strangled noise rolled up Braxton's throat. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm fine. I need more. Make me feel good."

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath.

Pushing up on his arms, he widened his knees, forcing my thighs further apart. The next snap of his hips was more brutal, and I threw my head back against the rush of pleasure it provided.

"Yes." The word came out on a hiss.

One hand moving to steady my hips, he pounded into me, each thrust more powerful than the last, coming closer and closer together. I bit my lip to try and stifle my rising moans as I inched closer to the peak, torn between wanting to chase my orgasm or trying to stave it off to make this feeling last forever.

"No." Braxton's sharp tone had my eyes snapping open.

I nearly came from the sight of him above me. Every tight muscle was sharply defined on his torso. The tendons stood out on his neck with the way his jaw was clenched, teeth gritted.

But most notably, he'd stopped moving. I whined, shifting my hips, trying to regain any semblance of friction to ease the ache. "Don't stop."

I would be the first to say I rolled my eyes when an author wrote about a man growling. Like, who does that? But that man fucking growled.

"I want to hear my name on your lips when you come around my cock. None of this biting-your-lip bullshit, trying to be quiet. I want to hear every moan, sigh, and scream. I've earned every single one of your sounds. They belong to me."

Uhhhhh . . .

What do I say? How do I respond to that?

Who is this man, and what has he done with sweet Braxton, who was too nice to take my virginity?

Can I keep this man for the bedroom? He's so fucking hot.

Think, Dakota. SAY SOMETHING!

Something happened—and to this day, I still didn't know what—but it was as if someone else possessed my body and controlled the next words that came out of my mouth.

"Make me."

Braxton's mouth dropped open for a split second before a devilish grin crept onto his lips. "Not so innocent now, are we?"

Rising on his knees, he pulled my hips off the bed, his fingers digging into the soft flesh so tightly that I knew there would be bruises there tomorrow. I didn't care. I desperately wanted him to fuck me. Hard and fast so I could give him the vocal fireworks he wanted.

Holding me immobile, he thrust home repeatedly, and even if I wanted to, I couldn't hold back the screams. This new angle hit that perfect spot he'd found with his fingers when I rode his face while simultaneously dragging his pelvis against my clit with each pass. It was exquisite torture, and I couldn't stop the freight train of an orgasm that slammed into me.

My body seized with his name on my lips as Braxton continued his relentless rhythm, grunting, "So. Goddamn. Beautiful. All. Fucking. Mine."

A split second later, he released his grasp on my hips, dropping down to bury his face against my neck as he roared out his release as his hips pulsed, and he emptied himself deep inside me. I could feel the warmth seeping out around his cock.

Shifting enough that he wasn't crushing me, Braxton's erratic breathing mixed with mine—deafening in the silence after the sounds of our combined climax.

"As soon as I can feel my legs again, I'll carry you to the bathroom and clean you up," he vowed.

Slipping my hands through the damp, inky strands of his hair, I whispered, "Take all the time you need. I'm just fine here, held in your arms."

I did a little happy dance on the inside; the night I gave myself to Braxton had been perfect.

I couldn't have written it any better.