I toss the bread blindly, crossing the kitchen in three strides to cup her face. And I kiss her, desperate, claiming, drowning, pouring it all into it. All the rage and fear and love.Mine. You're mine. This is mine.
She melts into me, gasping into my mouth, clutching my shirt, kissing me back with everythingshehas. I can feel every emotion she's had since Sunday. And we're both breathing hard when the kiss breaks.
She chuckles, pressing her forehead to mine. "Hi."
"You're wearing my jersey." My voice is wrecked.
"You like it?"
"I fucking love it. I don't know whether to rip it off you or make you keep it on while I fuck you."
She laughs, lips swollen and face flushed, sparkling eyes, this beautiful, bright, perfect woman wearing my name on her back, waiting for me.
It's what I've been fighting for all week.
"I made it," I mutter.
"What?"
"All week. I made it."
"Spring break starts tomorrow."
"Nope. It startsnow."
I bend, grab her arm, and throw her over my shoulder as she squeals. The pasta bubbles on the stove, music soft, Scout purring.
"Wait!" she says on a giggle, whacking my back playfully. "Dinner's ready."
"Dinner can wait."
And I click off the stove, hauling her to her room, still not sure if I'm leaving the jersey on.
CHAPTER 44
CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR
MOLLY
I'm half laughing, half shocked, his hand on my ass holding me in place as he stomps us toward the bedroom. I'm bouncing with every step, his shoulder pressing into my belly, hair a mess. His ass even looks good upside down--I tug at the hem of his shirt so I can see it better and give it a smack for good measure.
The look on his face when I turned around and saw him told me everything. I have been waiting for this all week. Not the exhausted, late night careful connection. I want growly, grabby, feral Grey, the one who marked my breast and thigh, the one who lost control. Ilivefor out-of-control Grey.
I cannot wait to get fucked by that version of him.
When he kicks open my door and strides to the bed, I'm giggling and wiggling with anticipation.
"Took you long enough to--"
I yelp when he tosses me onto the bed, and I bounce, landing in a sprawl, breathless and smiling. Until I see the look on his face--dark and hungry and primal, and without even a hint of amusement.
Oh, shit.
My pulse skips and jumps with excitement. I wonder if I shouldn't have been more careful what I wished for. I'm propped on my elbows looking up at him, breath unsteady.
He prowls onto the bed on his hands and knees, eyes locked on me, and I scoot back instinctively.
He follows.
