He watches me. Wrecked. Worshipful. I pause, then glance over my shoulder with a smile that starts in my lips but finishes in my hips. “You gave me your dirtiest dream,” I purr, crawling back into his lap, knees bracketing his thighs, voice low and full of wicked promise. “Now I’ll give you mine.” My free hand drifts down my stomach, fingers slipping through my own slickness. “From the foot of the bed,” I say, letting my...