“Tate,” I groan.
She’s had me wanting her for weeks. She’s in my dreams, in my head. She’s every-fucking-where.
I’m ready to devour her, but she’s frozen in place like she can’t move.
“Kiss me back. Really fucking kiss me, Tate. I need you in this with me,” I plead, sliding a hand to her neck, pinning her gently in place as I drag my tongue over the seam of her mouth. “Let me in, Baby.”
She sucks in a breath as if she’s remembering where she is.
Then she surges forward, answering my prayers, meeting me in the middle with a wild hunger that rivals my own.
Our mouths crash together. It’s a crushing kiss. One that ignites the blood in my veins and draws a deep groan from my chest. It’s a kiss that has me delving deeper and deeper, seeking to tether her to me. To make sure she’s right here alongside me. Feeling this undeniable pull between us.
I snag her lower lip between my teeth and bite down gently on it until she whimpers.
“You’re so damn sexy, you know that?”
I lean over her, swallowing her small gasps as I take, and take, and take. Using my tongue to taste her, to steal her whimpers and store them away to replay in my head when I’m alone.
I fucking obliterate her final hesitations about what we’re doing. Kissing her the way I want to. The way Ineedto.
Deep, urgent, raw.
A man possessed.
“Sullivan,” she gasps.
I break apart so she can breathe, resting my forehead against hers. “Don’t ask me to stop,” I beg, even though it sounds more like a command. “Please don’t ask me to stop.”
She shakes her head, before grabbing my hair and dragging my mouth down to hers with renewed urgency. Her tongue seeks mine, matching me stroke for stroke, as eager for my taste as I am for hers.
“Oh my God,” she pants as I drop my hands to those fucking curves of her hips and yank her body against mine.
She gasps as my cock presses into her.
“This is what you do to me,” I growl, flexing the thick length against her so she can appreciate just how painfully hard I am.
I need to be inside her, burying myself to the hilt. It’s more than an obsession now; it’s goddamn essential to my survival.
“Tate,” I moan. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
I dig my fingers into her flesh, my mouth dropping to suck the point where her pulse is pounding in her neck. I could bite right through her flesh. Drink her down. I’m that fucking starved to get a taste of her. There’s no time for subtle. She needs to understand how crazed I am for her. She’s consumed my mind for weeks.
Her curves. Her defiance when she stands up to me. Her damn obliviousness to the way I stalk her with my eyes like a predator when she’s in my apartment. When she’s in my kitchen teaching my daughter how to cook. When she’s playing my piano and filling my home with laughter and lightness and…her.
Whatever she’s doing, I see it. I watch. I notice every single thing. And it’s fueled the obsession to have her more each day, until it’s become too powerful for me to resist.
“Sullivan,” she whines, clawing at my shirt as she drops her head back, exposing more of her neck.
I suck it roughly, knowing I’ll leave a mark. But I don’t care. I want her marked by me. I want her to look in the mirror and remember this. Remember how damn good it is with me.
“That feels amazing,” she mewls, sliding her hand between us to the front of my pants.
Her touch is soft and slow.
I grab her wrist and hold it still.
“That’s it, get a good hold on it, Baby.” My breath stutters in fevered groans as she wraps her fingers around my dick and I drag her hand up and down, jerking myself roughly. “Treat it like you own it.”
