her. She moaned, her head falling backwards as a mini orgasm washed over her, her sheath contracting all along his length. When her pussy relaxed, he surged up with his hips and she cried out.

He began thrusting in and out of her, holding her in place. Even now, when she was, for all intents and purposes, on top, he was still in control. He began to fuck her with a rhythm that was strong and sure. She writhed on top of him, trying to take him deeper and allowing her lust to soar.

Roark allowed her a little movement and they easily found their rhythm as she balanced on his shoulders and he began hammering her pussy. Her second orgasm sparked and spread like wildfire, coursing through her system and leaving her breathless. He took two more strokes before he grasped her hips, grinding her down on his groin as he began spilling himself into her.

When he’d finished, he cupped the nape of her neck and brought her mouth to his as he kissed her deeply. He helped her of his lap and tucked himself back into his jeans before straightening her dress. They had barely finished before they returned to the Savoy.

Roark waited until they were in the elevator before swinging her up in his arms and carrying her to their room. He opened the door and took her into the room.

“You go get naked, Pet.” He glanced at his watch. “Dinner should be delivered in just a few minutes.”

“I suppose I’m going to be naked for dinner and you aren’t?”

Roark kissed her. “Such a smart girl. You have an excellent grasp of the situation.”

She heard the discrete knock as room service delivered and set up their meal. When she heard them leave, she left the privacy of the bath.

“Any chance I could have a robe or one of your shirts?”

“None at all,” he answered.

“Why is there only one chair?” she asked.

“Because you’re going to sit in my lap and feed me.”

She grinned. She hadn’t written Roark to be this sensual and romantic, but she was glad that he had enhanced and expanded upon all of her fantasies—both those she’d written and those she’d only imagined. Sage made herself comfortable and lifted the cloche off the dish closest to her as she began to feed him with her fingers. He’d ensured that they didn’t need utensils, but that there were sauces for him to lick and suck from her fingers.

Sage should have been embarrassed as her nectar began to leak onto his jeans, but she wasn’t. She’d come to thoroughly enjoy the feelings of arousal and how sexy he made her feel with little effort on his part. When she reached for the final cover that concealed dessert, he lightly swatted her hand and shook his head. Sage put her hands back in her lap and leaned into his body, resting her head on his shoulder.

Roark reached around her and pulled the lid off the last covered dish. It wasn’t the gorgeous confection that was revealed that made her gasp, it was what sat in the middle of it—a ring with a large center stone brilliant in cut, carat, and color. She grinned like a Cheshire cat. She had described this ring in perfect detail as having once belonged to his mother.

Roark didn’t say a word, just slipped it on her ring finger and then began to feed her the decadent dessert. When they were finished, he stood up and carried her to their bed, laying her gently and reverently on her back.

Following her down, he said, “I plan to spend the rest of my life making good on the promise of that.”

Sage was never sure if that was a threat or a promise and found she didn’t care. When she woke the next morning still wrapped in his arms, she was filled with a joy that could only be favorably compared to a child waking up on Christmas morning, waiting to go downstairs to open presents, anticipating the bright future that lay before her. Stretching, she noticed the dazzling sparkle on her left hand.

“I’d better be long dead, buried, and turned into worm food before you take it off,” he rumbled at her, nuzzling her neck. “Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she purred, snuggling against him, thinking how very nice it was to have found her very own happy ending.

THE END

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