Tate took the stairs three at a time so I had no hope of catching up to him. I could barely do two at a time.

When I came to his closed door on the third floor, I was met with silence.

"Tate, can I come in?"

More silence. I mean, he didn't say no.

"Okay, I'm coming in then."

I waited another second to see if he would protest before I punched in the numbers.

As soon as I hit the eight I remembered him saying June eighth. His code was his parents' anniversary. I smiled at the thought that Tate really was a hopeless romantic—and hiding behind some man-whore facade his entire life.

Tate was sitting at his desk chair with his head in hands. He didn't move when I crossed the room. I watched him as I pretended to look at his bookshelf. He stayed still, not caring what I was doing, so I stood next to him and laced my fingers through his hair. He wasn't going to talk until I prompted him.

"Tate," I whispered.

He responded with a mix of a sigh and a scoff.

I slipped a leg across his lap and straddled him before I forced his chin up. He met my gaze, and he looked almost sick or maybe dejected.

So I gave him my best smile. "Did you see our TikTok got over a million views?"

Tate actually laughed. It was out of shock because I probably said the last thing he'd expected me say. Then his face fell again.

"Matt is right," he whispered. "I'm no better than him."

"You are nothing like him."

Tate cradled his arms around my back. "These last few weeks have been the best weeks of my life, Devin. And I'm so selfish, just like Matt, because I couldn't give you up. I couldn't wait because I couldn't force myself to stay away from you once I'd finally had you. I need you like I need air."

"I need you more than air," I playfully retorted like it was a competition.

None of his features even flinched. "But that's the problem. I thought I wouldn't cause any harm if I could keep it from getting physical, so I did. I guess I didn't account for how much history we have together, how we are already tied together. We are already too deeply intertwined. We always have been. And now I'm fucking jealous of Matt Elliot, because he has something from you that I don't. I see red when the thought even crosses my mind. Fuck. I wanted to pummel him into the ground when he fucking smirked at me like he knows me. Like we're one and the same. I fucked up."

Could he sense that I loved him? I furrowed my eyebrows at him and clung to his neck. "You didn't mess anything up. I'm right here. I don't want Matt. I don't want anyone else."

Tate closed his eyes, and his words came out angry. "Dammit, Devin, I did. I need more time because I can't bring myself to do what I need to do. I'm not honorable. I don't want to share you. I want you all to myself. I'm scared everything is going to end. I know I might have to let you go, and I'm not ready for that."

I wasn't going to let him give me up anyway, and I was focused on a spot on his wall across the room. It was a crumbled indent, the beige paint had flaked, and it was right at shoulder height. Tate's height, that is. "Did you punch the wall?"

He smirked with his eyes still closed. "I did. Not tonight—on Thursday."

The day I suspected he was working through something.

"Tate, you can have all the time in the world. I'm not going anywhere. Whatever you need to do, does it involve Amy?"

He looked at me, boring holes into mine. I wondered if I'd overstepped, but Tate answered. "I've been having FaceTiming sessions with her. A lot."

"Can you still give me right now?"

He nodded and swallowed, the muscles along his throat working in a wave. "Yes, but I still need to tell you something."

"Do you want to tell me right now?"

He shook his head shamefully.

I had a deep feeling it had to do with his family. He didn't owe me an explanation on why he seemed to have a complicated relationship with his mother or whatever was going on between his parents.

We all have fucked up family secrets. I know I did, and I'd never offered them up to anyone before. Even Tate.

Some things you just carry on your shoulders by yourself, never letting them see the light of day. It's probably unhealthy, but I know there are things that I just don't want to ever really face, like saying them out loud makes them too real.

"Then don't tell me. Tell me when you've worked through it if you think I need to know."

Tate looked skeptical. "What happens if you get mad at me? What happens if you don't like what I have to say?"

"Give me happy for now, and I'll be happy. I'm not going to let you give me up anyway." I shrugged and smiled. "Sorry."

Tate didn't look like he believed me. "What if I can't give you everything you want?"

I knew in my heart he loved me, and I actually thought he was talking about everything—including the wedding dress and a family home and children.

I believed in him. He was trying to do the right thing. If Tate could, he would do everything in his power to make me happy.

"All I want is to be with you, Tate. No matter what," I whispered against his lips and kissed him before he could respond.

I was proud of that kiss. It was hot. I was going to make Tate forget why he was trying to be such a gentleman.

Tate made it even hotter when he stood and kicked his chair over.

Our tongues were doing dirty things to one another. I didn't realize kissing could feel that sexy.

He pulled back, his eyes were wild and his chest was heaving. "You're it for me, Devin. Always. No matter what happens." One of Tate's hands slid up my back and tangled itself into my hair, pulling my hair back forcefully. All I could see was the ceiling. His voice dropped an octave lower and came out like he was ravenous. I think he had lost all control. "But right now, I want to do obscene things to your body."

His words ripped through me, and I gasped at the pleasure firing from the synapses in my brain.

He sank his teeth into my collarbone. It felt so possessive, and my mind was spinning with lust and need. I needed to be only his.

"Do whatever you want to me. I'm yours."

"God, Devin." He sucked on my earlobe and ran his tongue along my cartilage. "Give me all of it. I'll make you never want another man again."

Joke was on him. I already wouldn't.

Matt had the same personality (maybe I had a type)—there is just something so damn sexy about assertive guys. But with Tate it was like he was taking me out of my box, not just to play with me but to let me thrive. He was going to cater to my every need and make sure he put me back better than I'd been before.

Tate placed me on the edge of his desk, never taking his lips off my neck. His hands skimmed my thighs, up under my dress, and he tugged at the hem of my underwear at my hips. He forced himself to create the smallest distance between us. I pushed up on my hands, lifting myself off the desk an inch as he slid my underwear down to my ankles.

I kicked them off while Tate bent at his waist and planted kisses down my thighs. He bit me again on the top of my kneecap before he pushed my thighs open. He nibbled his way up one side, his tongue gliding along my skin and raising a torrent of goosebumps that made him groan in satisfaction. He kneaded his thumb into my inner thigh on the other side.

I could just make out him whispering to himself how good he was going to make me feel, how wet he was going to make me.

Of course, I was already wet from every word he had spoken and the anticipation of having his tongue on me, but he straightened and stepped back.

Pure torture in the best possible way.

His pants were pulled out tight, and my body responded to how turned on he was, desperate for him. I wanted to feel him in my hand.

I tried to reach out. "Why are you so far away?" I asked breathily.

He evaded me and shook his head with the slightest side smile. "Show me what you do when you think about me."

God, just when I thought Tate couldn't get any hotter. This wasn't something I'd done before, and it surprised me how badly I wanted him to watch me, how turned on I was by it.

I widened my knees to the point where it was just about to be uncomfortable, and Tate let out a shallow groan when he fixed his eyes between my legs.

If I thought I'd seen lust before, I didn't know what to call the way he was looking at me. He rubbed himself over his pants.

All I could think about was how to make him even more uncontrollable because this was really fucking fun.

I raised my hand to his mouth and slipped two of my fingers inside. He moaned around them and wet my fingers for me, his tongue gliding between them as I pulled them out.

I finally circled myself and slipped one finger inside as I breathed out Tate's name.

He cursed under his breath, transfixed. "You're a fucking fantasy."

He pulled his T-shirt off, exposing his upper body. I tilted my hips at the sight of all of his muscles that I wanted against me, trying to get a fraction of an inch closer to him.

"Look at you," he said in a deep gravelly voice, pulling his belt off and dropping his pants when I slipped a second finger inside me. "So fucking sexy. How many times have you done this and thought about me?"

I felt sexy. "Three."

Tate let out a breath at the thought. "I can't wait to feel how wet you are for me. Feel you ride my tongue." He licked his lips. "Imagine my tongue there."

I closed my eyes and fantasized what I had for weeks, but when I heard him hum deeply in approval, I couldn't control my body.

"Find your G-spot," he instructed, walking me through my own motions as I kept my eyes closed and used my imagination. "Fuck, look at those hips grinding, desperate for me. I want to taste you so badly. I'm going to make you feel so much better than that. I'm going to know your body better than you do."

"Tate, I'm so turned on," I whimpered. "I want your tongue on me for real."

"Go slow," he instructed me when I opened my eyes. "Circle slowly and show me how good it feels."

My legs tensed, and I moaned his name louder when he pulled himself out of his tight black boxer briefs and stroked himself with his hand.

If I thought his hands were big, Jesus.

"I want more," I breathed out.

Why had I never done this before? This was the most mind blowing sexual thing I'd done and he hadn't even touched me.

Tate's unbelievable mental capacity made me so turned on I was having trouble thinking a coherent thought. He was enjoying controlling me, watching me writhe in satisfaction, and I liked it way too much—being his plaything.

"I'm going to take care of you every day from now on, Devin. You want more? I'll give you more. Three fingers. Use three."

I obeyed, and he smiled slightly at me when a moan escaped my lips because of how full I felt.

"So fucking beautiful watching you fuck yourself for me. Watching you do what I say. I've thought about this so many times—controlling your pleasure." Tate looked up at my cleavage. "Pull your dress down."

I slipped the edge of my dress down below my boobs with my free hand and pressed one into my fist.

"Play with your nipples. I know you like that."

Tate had hypnotized me.

"Does that feel good?"

I nodded, a, "Yes," barely leaving my lips, as I watched Tate pleasure himself.

"Not as good as it's going to feel when my cock is deep inside you."

A new wave of wetness coated my fingers. Tate had infiltrated my brain and was regulating every pleasure center.

"Fuck, listen to how wet you are." His eyes connected with mine. "Do you want to come for me?" he asked, running his thumb over himself.

I was breathing heavily. "Yes," I moaned. "Tell me what you want me to do."

He smiled smugly. "You like giving up your control to me?"

I nodded. I was completely lost in it, completely immersed in how much he was getting inside my head and driving me absolutely crazy in the best way.

He sounded like he was on a high when he said, "You belong to me. No one else. All of this is mine." My legs started to shake at the thought, but his next words came out harsh. "Stop. Don't."

I let out a breath as I stilled, pulled back from the ledge Tate had talked me onto. He shook his head, pleased that I'd obeyed him.

"I don't want you to yet. I want you to come on my face when it's finally between those legs." He took a step toward me. "You taste like sugar, don't you?" Tate said hoarsely, like it was a command, when I pulled my fingers out and circled again.

My mind was not my own. I opened my mouth and slipped one finger inside. I'd never tasted myself before and god, I did taste sweet. I gave him my most seductive smile and nodded.

Tate couldn't resist any longer. He pulled my hand out of my mouth and sucked on my other two fingers greedily. A 'mmm' noise rattled around it before he pulled them out slowly with a grin I'd never seen before.

"I want you all the time," Tate whispered and kissed me hard. I could taste myself on his tongue, and it made my heart go haywire. I felt like I had claimed him. He was mine in return.

He dropped to his knees suddenly and pulled my legs around his neck, scooching me even closer to the edge of the desk so that he was practically supporting my entire weight.

He rolled my nipples between his index fingers and thumbs.

"Fuck, Tate," escaped my lips when he ran his flat tongue up me. I grasped his hair tight, and my entire body felt like he had connected me to a twelve volt battery.

I whimpered when his fingers entered me. They felt one thousand times better than my own. Tate looked up at me to read my face as he went searching for my G-spot. I bit my bottom lip to keep from screaming when he found it.

"Let go for me, Devin." Then I felt him smile against me. He had a sparkle in his eye like he was about to really show me just how fun he could be before he picked up an incredibly perfect rhythm, and all I could do was buck my hips and ride his face until I actually was screaming his name.