“Promise me you won’t give up your art dreams,” he demands.

His eyes are fierce in the moonlight, and I’m staring up at him, wondering what all is going through his head. His lips are parted, reminding me of how they felt on mine. It would be too easy for me to pull him down on top of me on this couch and resume yesterday’s kiss. My whole body shivers with the thought.

“You must be cold. Here, take this.” Beck shrugs out of his jacket and wraps it around me. I can’t believe the smell. It’s him, but intensified from hours of wear. The silken fabric whispers along my neck and arms, encasing me in his scent and body heat.

Years ago, I had danced around in his hallway during a sleepover while wearing a discarded jacket. It had not been so warm though. “I used to dream about this, Beck.” I whisper the words into the heavy air between us. “In my dreams, it was always you who would take me out on a date like this one and kiss me good night. More,” I add when he stares at my lips.

“More?” His question is muffled by my mouth as we come together in a kiss. It’s more than I ever imagined. His tongue darts along my lower lip, tracing a line before I open for him.

There’s laughter in our kiss, pent up passions that need to escape like the flames on the braziers around our rooftop oasis. Hands slide around my waist, pulling me to him, and I lean back at the same time, bringing Beck down onto me.

His weight is a solid blanket as he covers me. I arch up into him, into his kiss, and I know I’m not the only one breathing hard when we momentarily part. Beck mouths my neck, heat and sharp pain dissolving at the wet press of his tongue on the love bite. “God, Lia!” He sucks at a spot near my shoulder, his hands in my hair.

I don’t know where I want to touch him most. There’s so much of him, all muscled and tense as he rocks on top of me. I scratch my nails down his back, and he hisses, thrusting down so that I can feel his arousal pushing into me. He’s wild, groaning into my ear as I dig my nails into his shoulders.

“Need to—” Beck punctuates his words with open-mouthed, dragging kisses beneath my chin. He pushes himself up, the motion bringing his cock and my pussy even closer, and when he covers my body with his again, his hands slide beneath my shirt. “I need to get my hands and mouth on those gorgeous tits of yours.”

I can barely whisper out my approval before he’s cupping my breasts, fingers already tugging at the lace cups of my bra. It’s my turn to moan as he squeezes a nipple, the hardened peak aching for more.

I beg, offering myself up to him. Releasing my grip on his back, I reach for my buttons, wanting to get my shirt off. Skin to skin won’t be close enough.

He stops me, one hand grabbing at my wrists. “Let me.” It’s as much a plea as a request, and I acquiesce. Beck rips my blouse down the front, buttons popping off around us. “I’ll buy you a new one.” I can’t be mad, not when I see the pure hunger on his face. He looks ready to devour me.

His fingers pull down the lace again, freeing my nipples so that both are displayed for him. It’s exhilarating to be out here like this—even more so for it to be Beck stripping me.

“You are so gorgeous. I need to taste you, Lia.” His mouth closes over one tip, and I swear I can feel it between my legs. The rapid flick of his tongue is almost too much, and I can’t stop myself from burying my fingers in his thick hair in an attempt to move his head to the other side.

He doesn’t budge. Each suckle is deliberate, and when I find the strength to lift my head to look at him, he smiles around my nipple before letting it pop free. Wet from his saliva, the night air cools it, making goosebumps pebble the flesh even tighter.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs. He licks a lazy line down my breast, nuzzles at the space between them, before taking my other nipple into his mouth. Covering the other with his hand, he doesn’t let it go soft from lack of attention. Tweaking and tugging, I can’t hold still beneath his ministrations. Even the squeezing of his palms seems deliberate in the attempt to make me crazy with want. He’s succeeding.

When his fingers inch down to begin pulling at my skirt, I know where this is going to end up. I can feel how wet I am each time I lift my hips up in offering, in the dampness of my panties when he thrusts against me with only a little fabric separating us.

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