Page 36 of Late to Love

He allows it for all of three seconds before he’s lifting me into his arms and taking me to the bedroom.

“There’s a whole loft out there, and you’re taking me in here?” I tease.

“Trust me, you’re going to want to lie down for this.” He looks down at me as he says it, an expression of cockiness and lust heavy on his face.

In the bedroom, he doesn’t bother shutting the door, but he holds me while he toes off his shoes. And when he lays me on the bed, it’s gentle, almost sweet. Then he speaks, and all bets fly out the window.

“Are you on birth control?”

“IUD.” Where is he going with this?

“When was the last time you had a partner? Tested?”

My lips quirk up. “It’s been over a year, and I was tested a couple of months ago at my annual appointment. Why?”

He reaches down and yanks the overalls the rest of the way off, along with my socks and boots. His eyes travel hungrily over me, taking in the cotton briefs and tank top. I’ve never felt sexy in this kind of outfit, exactly, but under his gaze, I’m beginning to see what that might feel like.

“Because I’m going to fuck you bare, and I’m going to fill up that pretty cunt of yours with my cum. And it’s going to stay there.”

I blink. “What?”

“You heard me,” he growls. “Take off your tank top.”

I obey, still trying to wrap my head around what he just said.

Silently, he undoes his pants and lets them fall, then removes his socks. He stands before me in black boxer briefs, his cock straining against the cotton fabric, and his thighs flex as he watches me.

“You are such a fucking specimen,” I whisper.

“Sit up and take off your bra,” he says in response.

I do as he commands. “Are we not going to talk about what you just said?”

His brows knit. “Which part?”

“The part where you said you were going to?—”

“Fuck you bare and fill you with my cum?”

Holyshit.My cheeks heat. Suddenly, I feel every bit of my age. I thought I was experienced, but maybe not.

His answering smirk is dark. Dangerous. As if all this was only a matter of time, and now that he’d been unleashed, my world would never be the same. “It’s what’s going to happen. I’m clean. You’re clean. You’re on birth control. You’ll take my cum in your pussy and you’ll like it.” He places a knee on the mattress, his gaze almost feral. “Trust me, sweetheart—I’m only getting started. Just remember that you said yes.”

I nod. I know implicitly that he’d back off if I said so. But no way am I slowing this train down. “Okay.”

“Now, take off your bra. I want to see those tits,” he commands.

I pretty much never wear a real bra, so it’s a sports bra. And I have never felt less sexy than the next few seconds it takes to pull it off over my head. I rethink everything—how I should have waited to do this until after I’d had a shower. How I should have worn a real bra, for fuck’s sake.

But all my doubts fall out of my head when I see the way he looks at me.

He runs his hand over his face, stroking his beard. “Damn, honey. You’ve been hiding those from me.”

I laugh nervously, unsure of how to respond.

His eyes meet mine. “They’re beautiful. Big and bold, with a little bit of softness in just the right spot. Just like the rest of you.”

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d hear a man wax poetic about my breasts. But not only has it happened, but it’s Anthony Hall who’s said it. I fuckingswoon.

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