Page 220 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter

I open my eyes again.

His warm, throaty chuckle meets me. “I like that look, dream girl.”

“What look?” I breathe.

“The one that says, more.”

“Give me more, then.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He kisses me again. Stronger. Sparks flood through me, and I grasp at his shirt. I use him and the wall to steady myself, to arch up into him.

More, I think, opening my mouth.

He tastes like strawberries. He scores my lower lip with his teeth, takes his fill of my mouth. He shifts forward, pinning me to the door with his hips. Showing me exactly what he thinks of this.

I tug at his shirt.

“Naughty,” he says, barely pulling away. “You’re not cleared to exert yourself.”

“You can do the work,” I say. “Please.”

My hand travels down, palming him through his pants.

He groans. “You sorceress. Don’t tell.”

“Our little secret,” I promise.

He moves my hands aside and shoves his pants down, unbuttoning his shirt and revealing his drool-worthy abdomen.

And a new addition?—

“Is that a tattoo?”

He smirks, but—it says dream girl’s along the left side of the V of his stomach. Like he’s saying that that is?—

“Like it?”

I wordlessly nod.

“Good.” He hoists me up.

I let out a low noise when the tip of his cock slides through my center. He finds my entrance easily and slowly pushes into me.

I groan.

It’s an odd combination of pain and pleasure. My body still aches. He’s careful not to hit the stitches on my inner thigh, or even grip that leg and force it around him. But it means… I’m split open wider, and he goes deeper.

“You feel like my dream,” he confesses, his lips at my temple. Running through my hair. “I’m going to wait to say it back to you, Sydney. But I hope you feel it.”

It being… love.

I do. With every stroke, every kiss he peppers me with, it doesn’t feel like he’s making love to me—nothing so sappy as that. His thrusts are still hard enough to bump my spine against the door, to cause it to shake in its frame. I see stars. But I see everything he wants to give me, too.

I fall harder. Is that possible? I was already there—but I just sink deeper into it.

Into him.