The night is nowhere near finished—and neither am I.
THREE
Wren
Kade carriesme down the hallway, the sound of the front door slamming shut echoing through my apartment like a gunshot. We're both breathing hard, tangled in each other's space. That careful control from the alley is shattering at the edges—I can see it in his eyes, feel it in the grip of his hands. I wear nothing but high heels and pure, desperate need, my bare legs locked tightly around his waist.
He doesn't stop or hesitate. He carries me straight into the bedroom, dropping me hard onto the unmade mattress.
"You're sure?" He hovers over me, hands framing my face, searching my eyes for doubt. "Because once we?—"
I spin and come up on my knees.
"If you leave, I'll scream. Loud enough to wake the whole building."
"If I stay, you'll scream more."
The dark promise sends heat flooding straight through me. I claw at his shirt, desperate for skin. He pulls back just enough to yank the dark fabric over his head, tossing it aside into the shadows.
Dim light from the street filters through my windows, illuminating his body for the first time. Lean muscle, brutal and functional. Scars mark his torso—a violent map of survival.
My fingers trace a puckered starburst on his left side, between his lower ribs. Close to the lung. A near miss. A dark tattoo rests over his heart. In the shadows, the angular shape mimics map coordinates or an old callsign. Completely unreadable.
"See something you like?" An edge sharpens his tone, bracing for me to recoil from the damage.
"Yes." I map the raised tissue, the history written on his skin. "All of it."
My gaze drops.
I reach for his belt—already familiar with the buckle, already knowing what I find when I pop the button—and free him completely. He's hard and heavy and perfect in my hand, and the sound he makes when I wrap my fingers around him goes straight to my core.
I hold his gaze as I lower my head.
The moment my lips close around him, his hand fists in my hair.
"Wren—"
"I wanted to do this in the alley." I pull back just enough to say it, my lips still brushing the head of his cock. "Let me."
A sound tears from his throat that doesn't resemble language. His grip tightens in my hair—not pulling me off. Holding on. I take him deeper, and his whole body goes rigid above me, thighs locked, jaw clenched, every muscle drawn taut as he fights to stay still and loses ground with every passing second.
"Careful." He catches my wrist with his free hand, his voice wrecked. "I'm trying to last more than thirty seconds."
"Why?" I look up at him, release him slowly. "We've got all weekend. Take what you want and come as much as you need."
"Fuck."
He pulls out of my mouth with a roughness that steals my breath, both hands gripping my shoulders, and shoves me back onto the mattress with enough force that I bounce.
Before I can process the ceiling above me he's already climbing over me—knee driving hard between my thighs, spreading them wide, his weight dropping onto me like a decision.
He pins both my wrists above my head in one hand. The other slides high up my inner thigh, finding me slick and swollen and desperate all over again.
"You're going to be the death of me." His forehead drops to mine.
"Good." I arch into his hand, already climbing fast. "Die inside me, Kade." I pull him closer with my legs, ankles locked behind his back, dragging his hips flush against mine. "I want to feel you lose control. All of it—every last piece of it." I lift my mouth to his ear, let my voice go low and wanton. "Use me until you can't anymore. I can take it. Iwantto take it. Make me feel you for days."
His control flatlines.
