My breath catches. I hate that he can tell what I just thought myself. I am fucked up. I shove the bathroom door shut between us.
When I emerge, he’s still there. And then he follows me into my bedroom.
I freeze mid-step. “Excuse me?”
Graham shuts the door behind him as though he belongs here, making it clear this is how it will be.
“Can’t have you sneaking out your window,” he murmurs, his eyes flicking toward the fire escape. “We both know you’ll try.”
My blood boils. “This is ridiculous?—”
He moves fast.
One second, I’m glaring up at him. The next, I’m against the wall. His hands braced on either side of my head. Caging me in.
The heat radiating off him is everywhere.
“Stop.” My voice isn’t as strong as I want it to be.
“You stop,” he murmurs. “Stop acting like we don’t know exactly what you’re doing. Exactly what you will do.”
I try to scoff, but his scent is everywhere.
Coffee and brown sugar and something undeniably alpha. It’s the first time his musk has broken through, and I never thought I would think the combination of coffee and brown sugar would appeal to me, but damn does it.
I should push him away.
I should say something biting, cutting.
But I can’t.
His stare pins me down, full of possession, daring me to continue pretending I’m not already his.
He doesn’t push. Doesn’t rush. Just waits, certain I won’t move. My breath stumbles when his fingers brush my cheek, when his hand tips my chin up. And when his mouth finally crashes into mine, I don’t resist.
I shatter.
Fuck, I wanted this.
Graham kisses me hard, the kind of kiss meant to prove a point. Every drag of his mouth against mine is a claim, rough and relentless. He swallows my defiance, my smart mouth, every fight I thought I had left—until all that’s left is heat and the burn of needing more.
Too bad he’s giving me exactly what I want. I pull him closer. A sound rumbles from deep in his chest—surprised, dark, approving.
His hands snap to my hips, grip rough as he drags me into him. And fuck—he’s hard. All of him. Heat floods through me, my breath shuddering out as his fingers bite into my skin, holding me there, holding mestill,like the only thing keeping him in check is sheer will.
I don’t want him in check. I want him unleashed.
His tongue sweeps against mine—demanding, claiming—and I open for him, give him everything he asks for. The room tilts, spinning around us, and I don’t even register we’ve moved until the mattress hits the back of my legs.
I gasp. He swallows it, drags me under.
His teeth catch my bottom lip, pulling, biting just enough to make my whole body shiver.
My nails dig into his shoulders. I arch into him. His groan rumbles against my mouth, raw and guttural, the sound of someone who needs this too. Who needsme.
The thrill that tears through me is sharp, intoxicating. Dangerous.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
