He leaned in and pressed his forehead to my belly.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, lips brushing fabric. “I’ve fucking got you.”
My fingers slid into his hair, threading through the soft strands. He kissed the waistband of my sleep shorts. Then again, higher.
And when he looked up?—
Holy hell.
His eyes were wild with something deeper than lust.
Possession.
Worship.
A kind of desperation that came from almost losing something you didn’t even know you needed to survive.
“You ready?” he asked, voice tight. “Because I won’t stop once I start. Not tonight.”
I nodded. “I want you.”
His growl was low. Feral.
He surged up, cupped the back of my neck, and pulled me into a kiss that shattered the last of my restraint.
The kiss wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t sweet.
It was everything we hadn’t said.
Everything we’d held back.
Everything we’d fought to ignore?—
exploding between us in a rush of teeth and tongue and breathless gasps.
His mouth claimed mine like he was starving.
Like he’d been waiting for permission to lose control.
And now that I’d given it?—
he wasn’t holding back.
Wrecker pressed me into the pillows, his weight pinning me in the best way.
Hot skin against mine.
The hard line of his body between my thighs.
I arched into him, nails dragging down his back, and he groaned into my mouth like it wrecked him.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “You feel too good. You always feel too good.”
“Then take it,” I whispered. “Take what you need.”
His growl vibrated through me.
