There he is, a woman's living, breathing fantasy, doing his slow, cocky turn, spiky black hair, darkly tanned chest, dimpled smile-killer smile-all in the package of Remington Tate. He's perfection itself, and a new surge of hormones sweeps through me as I do what the rest of the crowd does and take in his visual, so blatantly on display in those low riding boxing shorts and so strikingly sexy, he becomes the center of my attention. The center. Of my. World.

It feels like he's marking me. Like he's preparing me for something monumental. That could both change and ruin my life.

Larger than life itself, and I can’t even believe this striking creature was once a little bit mine.

Remy you're my king." I hug him hard. "There's no chess game for me without you.

His eyes glow in the shadows as he slides the soft liquid semen dripping down my thigh in a path leading back into my swollen entry, as if he doesn't want to come out of my body. "Sticky?" he asks in a gruff murmur, bending his head and licking my shoulder as he pushes his semen back inside with one finger.

...if I know him and like him just a little bit more than I already do, our emotional connection will be too strong for me to ever go back to the way I was before him.

I'll never have enough of you, never.