His scent surrounds me, steady and grounding, but there’s something headier about it now, something that makes my own rise in response. My body feels like it’s coming alive, every nerve thrumming under his touch, every breath tangled with his.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice rough and filled with longing. His lips press to the hollow of my throat, and I can’t stop the purr that rises in my chest, low at first, then stronger, until it vibrates through the space between us.
He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and unreadable as they search mine. “Ash,” he whispers, his hands tightening on my hips. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this.”
My breath catches, my heart racing as I meet his gaze. For a moment, I want to tell him everything—to confess that I’ve missed this, missed him, even though I’ve been fighting it since I picked my career over the men I love. Even though I tried to forget them in the arms of other men.
But instead, I pull him back in, my lips finding his in a kiss that’s just as desperate, just as consuming as the storm building inside me. I let myself give in, consequences be damned.
CHAPTER 28
Ashlyn
My fingers moveon their own, finding the buttons of his shirt and slipping them free one by one. The material parts under my touch, and I push it aside, my palms gliding over the warm expanse of his skin. His groan vibrates against my lips, the sound deep and unrestrained, sending a shiver through me that settles low in my belly.
Heat pools between my legs, slick gathering as my scent spikes, needy and unrestrained. My movements match the urgency of my perfume, my hands greedy as I slide the shirt off his shoulders. The fabric catches on his biceps, but I don’t care. I trail my hands down, exploring every inch of his chest and stomach until my fingers find the trail of hair that dips below his waistband—hishappy trail,as he used to call it.
And right now, all I can think about is how happy I’d be to follow it.
My fingers fall to the button of his jeans, fumbling slightly as I work to unfasten it. But before I can, his hand covers mine, stopping me.
“Wait,” he murmurs, his voice rough, his chest rising and falling quickly. “That’s not why I kissed you.”
I freeze, my breath hitching. My fingers curl into the denim beneath his hold, and I meet his gaze, swallowing against the knot forming in my throat. “I know,” I whisper, my voice soft but steady. “But I want you.”
His eyes darken, his grip tightening slightly on my hand as though he’s waging a war with himself.
“You said just us,” I continue, my voice trembling slightly. “No strings.”
For a moment, the only sound is our ragged breathing.
“It’s not that simple, Ash,” he says, his voice thick with restraint.
“It can be,” I counter, my free hand sliding up his chest to rest over his heart. It’s pounding just as hard as mine, a wild rhythm that matches the storm building inside me. “I’m not asking for promises. Just… be here with me. Right now.”
His jaw tightens, his gaze searching mine, and for a second, I think he might pull away. But then his hand moves from mine, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulls me back into a kiss that’s anything but restrained.
It’s desperate and consuming, his lips claiming mine like he’s been holding this back for far too long. His hands slide down my sides, gripping my waist as he presses closer, his body fitting perfectly between my legs.
I moan against his mouth, my fingers diving into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. The counter presses into the back of my legs, but I barely notice. All I can feel is him—his warmth, his strength, the way his touch ignites every nerve in my body.
His lips leave mine, trailing down my neck to the hollow of my throat. I tilt my head back, giving him access, and the soft sound that escapes me is pure instinct—a needy purr that vibrates between us, bordering on a whimper.
“God, Ash,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice raw, unrestrained. His teeth graze my collarbone again, sending a joltof heat through me that leaves me trembling. My hands slide back to his jeans, tugging at the waistband, desperate to feel more of him.
He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, his forehead resting against mine. His chest rising and falling as though he’s barely holding himself together. His gaze, dark and full of something that makes my pulse stumble, locks onto mine. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice hoarse, almost reverent.
“Yes,” I breathe, no hesitation in my voice.
His restraint snaps, and for a moment, I’d swear he’s an alpha ready to claim his omega. The intensity, the sheer command in his movements, takes my breath away. The confidence he’s gained over the years is undeniable—confidence I know wasn’t always there, confidence earned in ways I don’t want to think about. Not now. Not when his hands are on me, pulling me under.
He lifts my sweater, his movements sure but unhurried, as though he’s savoring every second. I raise my arms, letting him pull it free, and it falls to the floor in a forgotten heap. My bra following shortly after.
His attention shifts immediately, his hands sliding to my sides, his lips trailing down my neck to the curve of my shoulder before dipping lower. He pauses for a breathless moment, his eyes darkening as they take me in, before his lips find the swell of my breast.
He sucks my right nipple into his mouth, the heat and pressure sending a shudder through me, while his fingers find the other, tweaking and teasing until my body arches into his touch. The sensation is electric, overwhelming, a tidal wave of pleasure that has me clutching at his hair, pulling him closer.
“Jake,” I gasp, my voice breaking on his name as his teeth graze the sensitive bud, his tongue soothing it immediately after.My hips shift involuntarily, seeking friction, relief, anything to quell the fire building between my legs.
