She trusts me even in sleep.
My arm winds around her waist, pulling her closer, breathing her in—her shampoo, her skin,her.Everything in me settles when I have her like this. Everything in me wakes up, too. My hand snakes around her waist, going between her legs. She’s still wet from the last time I fucked her. Slowly, I spread the wetness around, letting my finger rub against her clit.
She shifts, a soft sound leaving her, and her thighs part slightly in her dreaming haze. The small, unconscious invitation nearly undoes me. I press my mouth into her hair.
“Cara,” I whisper, my voice rough with need. “I need you.”
She stirs, blinking up at me slowly, sleep still clinging to her lashes. But when her gaze meets mine, something sparks.
Her lips curve faintly. “I can tell.”
I move over her, bracing myself with my hands on either side of her head. Not kissing her yet—just letting her feel the weight of me.
I brush my lips against hers once, barely a taste. “You aren’t too sore, are you?”
Her fingers slide up my back, curling into my shoulders as her legs wrap around me, pulling me down into her warmth.
“Never,” she whispers, and there’s nothing shy about it. “Come here.”
Her mouth finds mine, sleepy and wanting and sweetly reckless, and every part of me that knows this is madness and that knows I’ll never let her go goes silent.
Because in this moment, she’s mine. And I’ll take every second I can get.
Her lips part under mine, her breath catching in a way that makes my pulse pound in my throat. I slide my hand beneath her thigh, lifting her just enough to pull her closer. Her body fits against mine like it was carved to match, her warmth slidingalong every line of me. When she arches up, seeking more contact, a low sound drags out of my chest.
“Elizabeth,” I murmur against her mouth, barely holding myself back. “You’re mine.”
She shivers. “Lorenzo…”
God help me, the way she says my name hits me harder than any gunshot I’ve ever taken. I kiss her again, deeper this time. The kind of kiss that claims. The kind that promises. The kind that warns her she should run while she still can.
I shift my weight, sliding my hand up her ribcage as her back arches into the touch. My thumb grazes the underside of her breast, and she gasps into my mouth—soft and surprised and trusting.
The trust kills me.
Because she has no idea what kind of man she’s touching. No idea what I’m capable of. No idea that I’m already too far gone when it comes to her.
I break the kiss long enough to look down at her. Her hair is fanned across the pillow, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from my mouth. Her eyes—God, her eyes—are dark with want and something better, something worse: surrender.
My restraint thins to a thread.
“Open your legs for me,cara,” I say, my voice low enough to shake. “I want to feel you.”
She obeys instantly, trusting instantly, wanting instantly—and it hits me all over again what a dangerous thing it is for her to give herself to me like this. Because every time she listens to me…every time she yields…every time she whispers my name with that soft ache in her voice…
I lose another piece of whatever humanity I had left.
I lower myself over her, pressing my forehead to hers, my breath mingling with hers.
“Tell me to stop,” I whisper.
“No.” Her lips twitch. “Don’t stop.”
I don’t.
I can’t.
Because the moment she opened her legs for me, opened her mouth for me, opened herself to me—she stopped being a woman I wanted. And became the one I’ll never let go.
