A growl, low and hungry, rumbled from his chest.
And before she could take her next breath—he had her.
She squealed as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms.
Laughter burst out, sharp and surprised, cut with heat.
“Gideon!”
His grip was firm, possessive, his arms tightening around her as he carried her toward the bathroom like she weighed nothing.
His lips ghosted over her ear, his breath sending a delicious shiver down her spine.
“You can’t say things like that and expect me to resist.”
Gideon kicked the door shut behind them, sealing them inside the storm that had been building for months—inevitable, feral, consuming.
The air thickened around them, steam curling at the edges of her vision as he set her down, his hands lingering at her waist, his thumbs sweeping slow, teasing circles on her bare skin.
Her lips parted, her pulse hammering as she looked up at him.
A man unraveling.
A man barely holding back.
A man who wanted her completely.
“Well?” A single step back, an unspoken dare. “Are you just going to stand there?”
Gideon didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
Because the second her fingers brushed the hem of his shirt—the one she was wearing, the one he’d imagined on her in a thousand filthy ways—his restraint shattered.
He stepped forward, catching her wrist before she could pull the fabric over her head.
His voice, when it came, was slightly ragged.
“I want to undress you.”
The words didn’t ask. They promised.
And fuck, the way he said them…
Arden’s breath stuttered, and her body was aching before he even touched her again.
His mouth crashed into hers, nothing slow, nothing careful, just need.
Raw, unapologetic, all-consuming.
His hands were everywhere—gripping her hips, sliding beneath her shirt, slipping it over her head in one smooth, ruthless motion.
His fingers curled into the lace of her panties, dragging them down her thighs in one slow, deliberate motion before tossing them aside.
His boxer briefs hit the floor a second later, and suddenly, he was all heat, all hunger, all him.
And she wanted.
