His hands twitched at his sides like he didn’t know whether to shove me away or pull me in. I closed the final space between us, our chests almost touching, and inhaled his expensive cologne, sandalwood, saffron and leather, and felt it zing through my lungs like a hit of coke.
“You want me,” I breathed. “You dream about me. Youachefor me. You hate it, but you can’t stop.”
“Enough,” he rasped. Tension radiated off his body, a coiled spring ready to explode.
“No.”
“You don’t understand?—”
“I do. You’ve built your life on control. And I’m the one thing you can’t. I’m not sure you really want to. You like that I’m impulsive. Chaotic. Unpredictable.”
His eyes were wild now. Terrified. He resisted the irrefutable pull between us for a split second. I thought he was going to walk away, but instead, he snapped. He reached out, meaning to push me away, but the second his fingers brushed my chest, his whole body stilled.
He inhaled sharply. Like he was breathing for the first time in days andgrabbedme. A pain-filled groan clawed its way out of his chest.
I surged forward, decimating the remaining molecules between us and kissed him hard enough our teeth clicked. Hegasped, and I swallowed it, dragging him backward into the wall, into the shadows, into me.
This kiss wasn’t sweet.
It was carnage.
Months of tension exploded between us. I felt him come apart in my hands. Hands that clutched at my shirt, my hair, my hips. His mouth moved over mine with a desperation that made my head spin. His tongue licked into my mouth with a force that made me whimper.
He rolled his hips against mine, a broken moan tearing from his throat. I couldn’t wait anymore. Kissing him wasn’t enough. I needed more. I wanted to know the weight of his cock on my tongue. What his cum tasted like. What he looked like when he surrendered to the pleasure I’d wreck his body and mind with.
He was looking at me like I was the only thing anchoring him to earth. But I wanted him to see galaxies and soar among the stars. I pushed him—guiding him backward until the linen closet was behind him. Without breaking our fevered kiss, tongues dueling, I fumbled for the handle and opened the door, pushing him inside. He didn’t resist. Not really.
When the door clicked shut, sealing us inside that cramped, dark cocoon, he slumped back against the shelves like it was holding up the last pieces of him.
“Sin,” he breathed—one last protest, one last lie. His voice cracked under the strain. “Don’t…”
But I was already sinking. Dropping to my knees in front of him, I looked up and smiled like a wolf scenting blood.
“You don’t have to want me,” I said softly, my voice like velvet over broken glass. “Just don’t lie about wanting this.”
He didn’t stop me.
Not when I reached for his belt and unbuckled it with steady fingers.
Not when I dragged his zipper down, the rasp of it loud in the hush of the linen closet.
Not when I palmed the thick line of his erection beneath his boxer-briefs, feeling the heat, the ache, the pulse that betrayed everything his mouth wouldn’t say. He hissed through his teeth, fists clenched at his sides.
I leaned in and nuzzled him, dragging my nose up the rigid length of his thick shaft through the cotton, breathing in the heady mix of sweat, skin, and need. My tongue flicked out, toying with the dark, wet patch at the tip where he was already leaking for me.
He jolted like I’d shocked him.
“Fuck,that feels—Jesus Christ,” he groaned, his head tipping back to hit the shelf with a thud. Even in the dim light, I saw his throat work around a swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing as I latched onto him through the fabric, sucking hard, slow, teasing.
“You haven’t felt anything yet,” I murmured against him, letting my breath ghost over the soaked cotton.
One of his hands lifted like he was going to stop me—then trembled, hovered, faltered—and finally sank into my curls.
He didn’t push. He pulled. Drew me back to him like he needed it—me—more than air. I was happy to oblige.
“I’m gonna suck your brain out through your dick,” I whispered, biting his skin lightly just above the waistband. “You won’t be able towalkwhen I’m done with you.”
“Less talking,” he whimpered, the sound frayed and desperate. “More…”
