His jaw tightens. Not in anger. In restraint. In hunger.
He leans down, his forehead touching mine.
“Then you have me,” he whispers. “All of me.”
His lips find mine again, slow this time, deep, intentional.
His hands slide under my thighs. He lifts me, shifting me back on the table, keeping my mouth locked to his.
Heat pulses low and sharp. My legs wrap around him without thinking.
He groans into my mouth.
Oh god.
He kisses me harder, then pulls back just enough to murmur against my lips:
“Say you want more.”
I breathe, “I want more.”
That’s all he needs. He tilts my chin up, kisses me again, longer, deeper, hungrier, and the world tilts.
JAXON
She opens for me like she was built to fit in my hands.
Her breath breaks beautifully. Her nails scrape my shoulders. Her body arches into every touch, every inch of pressure, every deepening of the kiss.
I’ve wanted this, every sound, every shiver, every helpless gasp, far more than I should.
But I’m done pretending.
I kiss her harder, losing the careful edges, letting the heat take over. She clings to me, wrapping her legs around my waist like she needs me closer.
God.
I guide her back on the table, my body following, caging her in warmth and weight.
She whispers my name like a secret.
I lower my mouth to her throat, kissing down the line of her pulse, feeling it flutter against my lips.
“I want all of you,” she breathes.
My restraint snaps.
I kiss her again, slow at first, then deeper, my hands sliding up her waist, lifting her, pulling her against me.
She gasps into my mouth.
I swallow it.
Then I whisper against her lips:
“Tell me to stop.”
She shakes her head immediately.
