Annie lunges at me.
Her hands crash into my chest, then fist my shirt like she wants to tear it off. She yanks me down, and her mouth slams into mine with a force that knocks the air out of me.
My tongue dives into her mouth. Tangling, tasting, taking, like I’ve waited lifetimes for her kiss. Her hands claw up my shoulders, into my hair, gripping hard, dragging me closer as I devour her. I drive her backward until her spine hits the railing.
It’s messy. Ferocious. Months of tension snapping like a detonated fuse.
I groan into her mouth, low and guttural, my palm bracketing her neck as I angle her face. Her skin is rain-slick, cold beneath my touch, but her mouth is hell-born fire. Warm and soft and open. Our lips crash and slide, wet from the sky and wetter from us.
She hangs on for dear life, clinging to me like she’ll float away with the storm if she lets go. Her fingers rake down my back, nails scratching, her breathy moans rocketing straight to my cock. I grind against her, lifting one of her legs to hook around my hip. She feels me there, hard and ready, pressing between her thighs.
My eyes roll up. I imagine sinking deep inside her as she writhes and yields, sticky with sweat, damp from rain.
Fuck.
I suck her tongue into my mouth, drag her lower lip between my teeth. Her nipples tighten beneath her tank, and I cup her breast, palming hard, my thumb grazing over the pebbled peak.
She shudders, head tipping back, mouth wide open and panting.
Her gasp is dynamite to my blood as she sags in my arms, and I move to her throat, licking, biting, inhaling salt and raindrops. “Leave him, Annie,” I rasp, trailing kisses along her jaw. My tongue sweeps against hers, softer now. Coaxing. “Come home with me.”
It’s all I can think about. Ripping off her wet clothes and burying my face between her legs. Feeling her break, her release coating my tongue.
She gasps again, but this time it’s strained, saturated in something heavier than lust.
Pain leaks through.
And I know; I know she’s not ready.
Her diamond ring pierces my skin as she grips me tight around the neck.
A cruel reminder. A gleaming wedge between us.
I break the kiss, breath ragged, and lower my hand to her hip. Pressing my forehead to hers, I squeeze my eyes shut.
She shivers in my arms, the fallout imminent.
“Fuck…” I wind my arms around her. Lock her against me like I can shield her from the world. “I’m sorry.”
She folds in on herself, burying her face in my chest. Her sob cuts straight through me.
I pushed too hard. Too fast.
Turned her into someone she never wanted to be.
“I’m sorry, Annie,” I chant again, again, again, into her hair, into the rain, into every broken space between us. “So fucking sorry.”
She rips away from me.
As if touching me was a mistake she can’t undo.
Her eyes flare with panic, chest heaving. “What the hell am I doing?” she whispers, more to herself than to me. “What did I just…”
She backs up, hand to her mouth like she’s going to be sick. The ring catches the light again, sharp and accusing.
“I can’t do this,” she chokes out. “I can’t be this person.”
“Annie—”
