Keaton drops his hand, straightening as he rakes his fingers through his messy hair. A flush blooms high on his cheeks as he wrestles his desire back under control.
Yum.
I take his hand and tug him to our makeshift nest. “Sit. Get comfortable. I’ll handle the food.”
He sucks in a sharp breath as I bend to open the pizza box, giving him an unmissable view.
The air between us turns blistering.
His warm fingers curl around my ankle, and I bite my lip to hide a victorious smile.
“Charlie,” Keaton croaks, arousal thickening his voice.
I peer over my shoulder at him with hooded eyes. “Yes?”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “Wha—” He clears his throat. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you something to eat.”
He lifts a brow. “What if I told you pizza isn’t what I’m hungry for?”
I slide the pizza box aside and perch on the coffee table, his gaze instantly drawn to the space between my thighs.
Leaning back on my palms, I smirk. “Then I’d ask what youarehungry for.”
Keaton doesn’t remove his eyes from me as he takes off his socks and shoes. His hand reaches behind him, grasps his shirt, and pulls it over his head before tossing it aside.
So. Hot.
I drink him in, licking my lips at the sight of every vivid tattoo and glinting piercing he’s revealed.
Fuck, he’s sexy.
The butterflies inked across his skin, and the metal bars through his nipples set my pulse racing. On his lower abdomen, a dragon lies on its belly, one wing broken, a single tear slipping from smoky gray eyes that match my own. Beside it, a heart split down the middle. A permanent reminder of us and everything we’ve survived.
Poignant.
Keaton rises to his knees, hands gliding up my legs to my thighs. His fingers tighten, gently urging me open, his gaze never leaving mine. In his eyes, I see everything he feels—raw, unguarded.
The heat.
The want.
The longing.
The love.
He lets me see him, unfiltered, and that vulnerability is the biggest turn-on of all.
Keaton yanks me to the edge of the table so quickly that my dress bunches at my waist, leaving me bare and quivering under his heated gaze. He lifts one of his hands from my thigh and runs a finger through my slit. My head drops back with a moan.
Then a sharp smack to my pussy has my head jerking up with pleasure.
“Keep your eyes on me so you can see exactly what I’m hungry for,” he orders in a voice so sinful I nearly orgasm from the sound.
When I nod, a pleased sound comes from his chest. “Good girl.”
I quiver and grow hungrier at his praise.
