It’s deep. Firm. Possessive. The pull of his mouth sends my knees weak, heat flooding every part of me. I swear, I almost collapse against him. He does it again. Slower this time, dragging it out, savoring me, like he wants to leave a mark, like he wants me branded.
Without thinking, my head tilts, giving him more of me, exposing myself, offering myself. My body betrays me, begging silently for more.
I squeeze my eyes shut, biting my lip so hard I taste copper. I try to keep quiet. To hold in the sounds threatening to spill out. But when his teeth graze, then nip—sharp, teasing, deliberate—a broken moan escapes me anyway.
The sound shatters whatever wall I was holding onto. The air rushes from my lungs, trembling. I’m burning alive. The tension is unbearable, suffocating. I feel so weak, so helpless, trapped in whatever spell this man is casting over me, yet I don’t want it to end. I can’t let it end.
His hands grip me harder, fingers digging in like he needs me closer, like he’s staking a claim he has no right to. He keeps sucking, nibbling, tasting me like I’m something rare, something he can’t get enough of.
I don’t know who I am in this moment.
I don’t know why I’m letting him do this, but I don’t want him to stop, and I know I will never be the same after this.
When his lips part, and his tongue soothes over the spots he’s been biting and sucking, my knees almost buckle. I have never been touched like this. Like I matter.
Like, someone actually wants me.
And that thought makes something dangerous and hot coil in my stomach, my hands gripping onto him like he’s the only thing keeping me standing.
Then, suddenly, he stops.
The warmth of his mouth disappears, leaving behind nothing but the burn of where he’d just been.
I feel raw. Exposed.
My eyes flutter open, dazed and unfocused.
His gaze is already on me. Dark, heavy, and hungry.
“Alex…” I say his name like a prayer
This time, his thumb rubs against my lips. Gentle and warm, moving slowly, dragging against my lower lip.
I swallow, pulse erratic, the air between us too thick, too hot.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” He asks, voice husky and raw.
My stomach plummets.
I feel the heat of the question settle deep, curling inside me, twisting in a way I don’t understand. My lips part, but no words come out. So I manage a tiny slow nod.
His hands leave my lips and wrap around my throat gently, then his thumbs lift my chin.
“I need words, Lucas.”
His voice curls around my name, deep, hungry, demanding.
Everything in me is screaming—run, pull away, stop this, you can’t handle this, you’re not meant for this kind of touch, this kind of attention, you’re just a fucking nobody.
But I don’t listen.
I can’t.
So, instead, I surrender.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Please..”
He doesn’t hesitate. He tilts my chin up a little more and then leans in. His breath fans across my lips, warm and heavy, as though he’s testing the air between us. My eyes flicker up to his, and the world tilts, everything narrowing to this—him, me.
