"S-so good," I gasp immediately. "You feel so damn good, Lincoln."
"Going to keep you like this," he groans, his lips against the pulse hammering in the side of my throat. "I'm not giving you up now, Lilah. Not when you feel this goddamn good. Not when youmake me ache like this." His teeth rake my skin. "Christ, baby. The thought of giving you up makes me crazy. Say you're mine."
I choke on his name, my heart clenching at the fervent way he says it, like he's desperate to keep me. Like he needs to hear it more than he needs air.
"Say it," he growls again, thrusting so deep I feel him in my soul. "Tell me that you belong to me."
"I…I'm yours!" They're the most terrifying words I've ever spoken, but as soon as I say them, I realize they may also be the truest. Ifeellike his, in a way that I've never felt like I belonged anywhere or with anyone.
He isn't just making me like him. He's stealing my heart, claiming entire tracts of it as if those pieces are prime real estate designed to house him.
"Fuck yeah, you are," he breathes, kissing me until all I taste is him and the promise in his words. "You're mine, little bookworm."
I shatter with a cry, falling apart around him. It's so intense, tears sting my eyes. Blood rushes in my ears in a torrent of sound. I can't move or breathe through it. All I can do is let it wreck and remake me, over and over again.
"Lilah!" he roars, fucking me without rhythm. His hips snap against mine again and again before he plants himself deep, groaning in a way that ignites me all over again. He shudders on top of me, spilling into me in hot pulses that leave us both moaning.
And for the first time, I remember that he isn't wearing a condom. Part of me—a terrifyingly large part—doesn't even care.
"You didn't wear a condom," I whisper a long time later, draped across him on the sofa while he runs his fingers through my hair.
His hand stills before he curves it around my jaw, tipping my head back until my eyes meet his. "I know," he says. "I don't regret it."
I swallow hard, my heart beating a million miles a minute. "I'm not on birth control."
"Still don't regret it."
Lord help me…
"Me either," I rasp, and it feels like handing him the biggest piece of my soul. But I do it anyway. I think I want him to have it.
He grins at me like he knows I just gave it to him. "I know you don't trust me yet, sweetness. I know I have a lot of work to do to earn it, but I want this. I want you, more than I've ever wanted anything."
I hesitate for a long moment, trying to process the realization that I want it the same way. This isn't about my building anymore. It's about something else, something bigger. Something more important. I don't know what's going to happen with the building. Right now, it doesn't really matter. What matters is this: if I walk away now, I'll spend the rest of my life regretting it. I know I will, the same way I knowhewill.
"Will you…" I lick my lips, trying to work moisture back into my mouth. "Will you come home with me?"
"You want me to spend the night with you, Lilah?" he asks, his fingers stroking my cheekbones.
"Yes."
He dips his head, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Yeah, baby. I'll come home with you."
I wake up in increments the following morning. First, I feel the sun spilling across my face. And then I feel the warmth of his body pressed to mine. And then my eyes flutter open, my heart jolting against my ribcage.
I flip over so fast, my head spins.
"Morning, little bookworm," he murmurs, his voice gritty. His expression is soft and open, warm in a way that has my heart beating a million miles a minute.
"You stayed," I whisper.
He brushes hair away from my face, grinning at me. "I told you I would, didn't I?"
He did. But I guess part of me expected to wake up alone, as if last night was a dream. Except, it's not. He's still in my bed, naked, with my scratch marks down his arms.
Best. Morning. Ever.
Until I glance at the clock and realize that I have fifteen minutes until I'm supposed to be at the store.
