Get in here.
Don’t leave.
Not ever.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispers, voice breaking, ‘Sosorry.’
Then her hands are on my face and she’s kissing me.
Not just kissing – consuming. Devouring me like I’m the first thing she’s tasted in days. Fire flares beneath my skin. I mean to pull back, to get words out, to ask what’s changed, but my body ain’t listening. It slams the door shut and hauls her in.
Words can wait.
Right now, there’s only this: her need, her urgency, the way she clings to me like she’s terrified I’ll disappear.
I tear off her coat and she locks her legs around my waist, shoes hitting the deck.
‘What the hell are you wearing?’ I mutter against her mouth, satin slipping through my fingers at her hips.
‘Not a lot.’
And it’s all for me.
My smile is pure sin. ‘Good girl.’
I carry her through the dark loft, mouths melded, hands everywhere. By the time we reach the bedroom, we’re long past the point of slowing down.
We hit the bed hard. I strip her bare as she shoves my boxers down. My knees force hers apart, and then I’m there. One brutal thrust and I’m buried to the hilt, our groans fused by our mouths. She clamps her legs around me, meeting every savage drive, heels digging in, nails breaking skin.
It’s wild and ugly. Comfort and chaos. And everything I wanna live for.
I grind and grind, hunting that spot, that pressure, that rhythm that steals her breath. She tightens, head thrown back. She’s going, she’s going, she’s?—
‘Taylor!’
I break apart as she shatters beneath me, our climax ripping through us. We shake and shudder, my body caving. I plant my elbows, fighting not to crush her?—
But she drags me down, refusing the space.
And that’s when I feel it: the dampness on her cheek.
‘Tay?’ My body ices over, my head rearing back. ‘Are you crying? Did I hurt you? What’s wrong?’
She shakes her head, but her mouth trembles, more tears building in those eyes I know better than my own.
‘Fuck, Tay.’
‘It’s okay,’ she whispers. ‘It’s not you. It’s me.’
‘The words every man loves to hear…’
She lets out a choked laugh as I roll to the side and pull her into me. Kiss her head. Stroke her hair. ‘Talk to me.’
She tilts her head back to meet my gaze, the moonlight slipping through the high warehouse windows turning her into something half-real, half-myth. Softened edges. Silvered skin. Like she doesn’t quite belong to this world – or mine.
But those eyes… their pain.
‘You need to spill.’ Every muscle re-engages. ‘Now.’
