She was so close I could see the pulse fluttering in her throat. Could smell her arousal building. Could feel the bond humming between us, demanding we stop fighting the inevitable.
Her hand touched my chest, skin to skin, and the bond lit up between us. She gasped softly, and I caught her hand, pressing it flat against my chest where she could feel my heart trying to break free.
“Lina.” Her name came out destroyed.
We stared at each other, suspended in that moment of choice. I could see the war in her eyes. The smart part of her that knew this was dangerous battling with the part that felt what I felt. The bond singing between us, demanding we give in.
“Tell me to leave, Lina.” The words scraped out of me, one last desperate attempt to save her. “Tell me to go and I will.”
She looked at me with those warm brown eyes, her hand pressed to my thundering heart, and said the one word guaranteed to destroy my control.
“Stay.”
Fuck it.
I groaned and yanked her into my lap. My mouth crashed into hers without hesitation, devouring her the way I’d been fantasizing about for weeks. She gasped the moment our lips met, and I didn’t waste a damn second. I slid my tongue into her mouth and claimed it, tasting the coffee on her breath, the sweetness beneath it, and the heat that always lived in her like it was fucking mine. Because it was. She was mine.
She squirmed against my lap, and I could already feel her body starting to respond. Her thighs clenched, her hips jerked once. She wanted it, needed it just like I did.
I cupped the back of her head with one hand, tangling my fingers in her hair and holding her still while I fucked her mouth with my tongue. The other hand locked tight on her hip, grinding her down over the hard ridge of my cock. She moaned against my lips, and fuck, I nearly lost it.
I hadn’t even gotten her naked yet and I was already throbbing inside my jeans, so fucking hard it hurt. Weeks of holding back, of pretending I wasn’t obsessed with her, were coming apart at the seams now. My cock was rock solid, leaking for her. All Iwanted was to shove her down, rip those torn clothes off, and bury myself inside her until she screamed my real name.
She whimpered when I sucked her bottom lip between my teeth, and the second she rolled her hips against me again, my control snapped.
“Feel that?” I growled against her mouth, dragging her down harder so the swollen head of my cock ground right against her clit through both our clothes. “That’s what you do to me. Been like this since the second I saw you. Can’t fucking think when you’re near me. You walk into a room and my cock’s already hard, leaking for you like I’m some fucking teenager again.”
I bit her neck, right above the pulse, sucking until I knew I’d marked her. My tongue licked over the spot once before I whispered it. “Mine.”
“Matthias,” she gasped, and I fucking hated the sound of it. I wanted her to call me by my name, but that was too much of a risk. I couldn’t. Fuck.
I reclaimed her mouth, harder this time. Hungry, desperate. My hands slid under her torn shirt, finding warm skin that made her shiver. So soft. So perfect. The sounds she made as I explored her body were going to fuel my fantasies forever.
Her own hands were everywhere, nails scraping over my chest and arms, leaving trails of fire. When she rocked against me again, I had to break the kiss to breathe, pressing my forehead to hers before I fucking combusted.
“You have no idea what you do to me.”
8
— • —
Lina
The kiss deepened as I rocked in his lap, both of us groaning when my soaked jeans dragged over the hard length pressing against me. He was huge. I could feel it, every inch of him straining through his jeans, hot and twitching under me, throbbing against my cunt like it had been aching for me for hours.
My torn shirt gave up the fight when his hands slid under it, fingers gripping my waist like he needed to hold on to something or lose his mind. The fabric ripped down the side, but I barely noticed. All I could think about was his mouth, histongue, how he tasted like sin and violence and heat, like a man who’d burned through a hundred battles and still dropped to his knees just to kiss me like I was worth bleeding for.
He broke the kiss with a growl, pulling back like it physically hurt him to stop. I whimpered, chasing his mouth.
“You’re hurt,” he muttered, voice rough with need and concern. His gaze dropped to my arms, brushing over the scrapes from the alley concrete like they were mortal wounds. “Your skin’s all torn up.”
“I’m fine,” I protested, trying to pull him back for another kiss. “They’re just scratches.”
But he was already shifting me off his lap, ignoring my sound of protest. Before I could complain properly, he was retrieving the first aid kit I’d abandoned, his focus now entirely on my minor injuries while his own body bore much worse damage.
“Matthias, seriously, I’m-”
“Let me,” he cut in, and his voice… it wasn’t soft. It was a vow. “Let me take care of you.”
