“Of course he knew what to do with you. You begged for it.”
“And you’ve been dying to find out if I’ll beg for you too.”
His thumb pressed against my pulse as if he wanted tofeelthe effect he had on me.
I wanted to smile for getting my way. Of course this was how it would go. I’d been waiting for him to lose control since the second I met him.
He dragged me forward,his mouth crashing against mine hard enough to make me gasp—hard enough to steal the breath right out of my body. I could taste his frustration, his self-loathing, his hunger, all of it mixed into the way he kissed me, like he wanted to punish me for existing.
I kissed him back just as hard, my fingers curling into his shirt, tugging him closer as if I were daring him to make good on every threat he’d ever thrown my way. His other hand fisted the back of my dress,jerking me against himso I could feel exactly what all that anger was hiding.
I felt the shift beneath me as we moved past the kitchen into the bedroom. Then the bed was under me, the cool sheets pressed against my back as Marco hovered above, his arms caging me against the bed.
His mouth was hot against mine. Desperate. He was making up for every minute he’d pretendednot to want this. Now he had permission, he wasn’t wasting another second.
His lips were everywhere.
I felt him against me.Hard.
A sudden breath of air left me when his mouth trailed along my jaw, down the column of my throat, his breath warm against my skin.
“Oh,” I moaned, tipping my head back.
Marco stilled.
Just for a second.
Like he was collecting himself. Like he was remembering who he was—who I was—what this was supposed to be. And I hated that. I hated that he wasthinkingright now, because the second he started thinking, he’d stop.
I didn’twanthim to stop.
I dragged my nails lightly down his chest, feeling the subtle tension in his muscles. “Don’t start overthinking, lawyer,” I murmured, my voice still breathless, still wrecked from the way he’d just kissed me. “Not now.”
“Thinking’s the only thing that’s kept me from having you like this before.”
“Do you not want me like this?” I asked.
“I’ve wanted you like this since the first time you opened your mouth and pissed me off.”
“And when was that?”
“Christmas party. The second you found out I worked for Max and stopped pretending to be sweet.”
“Did that disappoint you?” I wondered. “You like your women helpless?”
“Helpless isn’t my type. Mouthy little liars though? Apparently, I’ve got a weakness.”
His fingers tightened slightly on my waist as if he knew exactly what his words did to me. As if he’d chosen them carefully, measured them out just right totestme.
His thumb pulled down my bottom lip slowly before he placed his own lips back on mine.
He wasn’t rushing. No—Marco didn’t rush anything. Hesavored.
I clenched my fingers in his shirt, trying to ground myself, trying to breathe, but it was impossible with him this close. With the scent of his cologne wrapping itself around me, with the heat of his body pressing between my thighs, with the feel of his hands gripping the tops of them like he had no intention of letting me go.
“Marco,” I exhaled, his name slipping out before I could stop it.
He hummed against my skin as if helikedthe way it sounded coming from me. Then his lips brushed the shell of my ear, his voice smooth, steady, so damnsureof himself.“Say it again.”
