Effa has never not known her own power.
“Look at you,” I murmur against her skin. “Already begging without saying a word.”
“Kaden—”
“Shh.” I press my lips to her collarbone, sucking hard enough to mark her, and she presses closer, her body arching into mine. The anger between us isn’t gone—it never burns out clean—but it shifts, curling down into something wilder, something reckless that neither of us has any interest in stopping.
My cock throbs harder at the sight of her taut nipples, straining toward me like they know where they want to be.
I flick my eyes up to hers. She’s flushed, pupils blown wide, breathing like she’s already wrecked and I’ve barely started. Good.That’s exactly where I want her.
I yank her hair again, pulling her head back until her throat arches long and exposed, and something possessive and primal rises in my chest at the sight of it.
Mine.
“That’s it,” I say low. “Show me what’s mine.”
Effa groans as I latch onto her nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive peak before my tongue circles and flicks. Her fingers find my hair, nails dragging lightly against my scalp as she grinds harder against me, and I hiss at the friction, hot andrelentless, my balls drawing tight with need that borders on painful.
“Fuck,” I breathe, my forehead dropping briefly to her chest as I fight for control. “You feel that? That’s how bad I want you.” I lift my head, meeting her eyes. “I’ve needed you since the first time I saw you. Standing there in that goddamn giraffe onesie like you weren’t about to turn my entire world upside down.”
Her lips curve, even now, even here.
God, this woman.
“Touch me, Kaden,” she murmurs, and the way she says my name, low, breathy, like it’s something she’s been keeping just for me, wrecks whatever was left of my restraint.
I pull back with a smirk. “Stay still,” I warn, and then I crash my mouth into hers before she can argue.
The kiss is hungry and relentless, teeth and tongue and the soft desperate sounds she tries to swallow. I feel her body tremble against mine as she finally breaks, a gasped breath against my lips before she sags into me, and something satisfied and savage unfurls in my chest.
I strip my shirt off quickly while she writhes with want, tossing it somewhere behind me, and then her hands are on me, greedy, impatient, working my belt with the kind of urgency she usually reserves for onstage. Like she can’t stand another second between now and what comes next.
I let her, I watch her, and when I finally step out of my jeans and briefs, she freezes.
Her eyes drop, and stay there.
The silence stretches.
I chuckle, the sound dragged low from somewhere deep in my chest, and I lift her chin with my thumb until her eyes meet mine again. She’s flushed all the way to her chest, her lips parted, looking at me like she’s recalculating something fundamental.
“Your pleasure is mine,” I tell her quietly, holding her gaze. “And I’m about to take what’s owed to me.”
Her eyes soften even as her body tightens with anticipation. She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t have to. She just wraps herself around me, her arms curling over my shoulders, her legs rising to hook around my waist, and I grip her thighs, lift her, and walk her back until she’s where I want her.
The moment I thrust inside her, it steals the air from both of us.
We go completely still.
The world narrows down to this. To her. To the devastating, perfect tightness of her around me.
“Fuck,” I gasp. “So tight.” My jaw locks. “Jesus, Effa—”
“Move,” she breathes. “Kaden, please…”
I set the pace immediately, hard, fast, and unrelenting. Every thrust a claim, every stroke a declaration, because she needs to understand what this is. What we are. Her nails rake down my shoulders and I welcome it, drive her harder for it, tilting my hips to hit the angle that drags a broken moan from her throat.
“Say my name,” I demand, my voice rough against her ear.
