“You’ve been running that mouth all night,” he accuses. He places his palm on my thigh. Barely any weight, but the heat of it spreads like fire under my skin. “Hoping I’ll draw the line so you can push harder.”
My breath stumbles. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
His thumb drags over my cheekbone, and his gaze doesn’t move from mine. “You’re right, we’ve both changed. Harder edges, sharper teeth. But there’s a constant between us. You feel it.”
Before I can blink, his hands shift, gripping my hips. Strong arms steady as he sets me on the counter. The marble is cool against my thighs, but he fills the space between them, and suddenly, I can’t remember why I thought I had control.
“You can’t deny you want this,” he says, voice gone dark, dangerous. “And I know that you want me to kiss you.”
I try to be clever, but my defenses crack wide open. “I wouldn’t say no.”
That smirk—lethal, smug, and devastating—breaks across his face. Victory.
He leans in, tongue tracing the seam of my mouth before Ieven exhale. It’s a provocation, and I give in instantly, closing the sliver of distance. His mouth crashes into mine with years of memories snapping all at once—rough, consuming, claiming. His hand fists the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling me closer, anchoring me, like he’ll never let me slip away again.
It’s not just a kiss. It’s a fucking storm. Heat, hunger, memory, fury, want—all of it colliding in a rush that steals every breath I try to take.
I melt before I can stop myself. My fingers claw at his shirt, dragging him closer, greedy for more, while his hands slip down my arms, spreading wide on my thighs, my skin alive with his touch.
There’s no air. No thought. Just Theo—his mouth devouring mine, his tongue tangling with mine, his body pressed to mine like he owns me already.
His hand moves fast, unbuttoning my jeans. The rasp of the zipper coming down sends butterflies through me, and then he’s inside, pushing beneath the lace, sliding two fingers into me with no warning.
My body bows, a strangled gasp ripped out of me, but his eyes stay locked on mine, sharp and smug. “Still perfect,” he murmurs, fingers curling deep, dragging a groan out of me before I can catch it. “So fucking tight. Like you’ve been waiting for me.”
I dig my nails into his chest, my breath coming out ragged. He doesn’t speed up, doesn’t give me the rhythm I’m chasing. He keeps me right there, hovering, until I’m trembling.
Then, just as quick, he pulls out. My curse dies on my tongue as I watch him lift his hand. He licks his fingers clean, obscene with hunger, his gaze boring me.
“Fuck, Lilly,” he drawls, voice thick. “You still taste like sin, and I fucking love it.” He sucks one finger deeper into his mouth before pulling it free with a wet pop. His smirk sharpens, cutting straight through me. “I bet if I asked, you would beg for my cock again.”
Heat floods me, dizzying and real. I forget where I am, forgetwhy I came. All I want is more. Him. Closer. Deeper. My fingers tremble as I reach for the buttons of his shirt, desperate to strip away whatever separates me from the body I remember too well.
But his hands close over mine.
I freeze. Lips parted, breath ragged from the kiss he just stole. His grip is firm—gentle, but final.
“What—” My voice cracks, confused and hungry.
“No,” he says.
For a second, I just stare at him, stunned. My skin is burning, my panties ruined, and he’s stopping now?
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I snap, the frustration raw in my throat.
He releases my hand, smooths his shirt down like he didn’t just unravel me with a kiss, with his fingers, and steps back. Composed. Collected. A man who just dropped a bomb and walked away from the wreckage.
My pulse rages as he plucks his phone off the island, scrolls, then presses it to his ear. “Have the car ready.”
My jaw tightens. “Seriously?”
He hangs up, looks at me. Calm. Controlled. Like I’m not still shaking on the counter of his obscenely perfect kitchen. “I’m walking you out.”
I blink. “You’re walking me out?”
“That’s what I said.”
I slide off the marble, buttoning my pants, my body still humming, irritation curling sharp under my ribs. “Is this some kind of sick power play?”
