“You’re shaking,” I whisper.
“And you’re not?” Her voice catches.
“I’m not the one pinned against a door, gorgeous.”
She exhales, lips parting just enough to make me ache.
Her breath stutters. My hand drifts to her jaw, thumb skimming the edge of her lip.
Her fingers twitch like she’s fighting herself, and I press in a little closer, just to feel her lose that fight.
“Jasper,” she breathes, and the way she says my name wrecks me.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” I say, giving her one last out. “Tell me to walk away, and I will.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
That’s all I need.
I close the distance and take her mouth with mine.
The second our lips touch, the rest of the world disappears. There’s only her taste, sweet and heady and undeniably Anita. The small, desperate sound she makes in the back of her throat spears straight through me, sharp and hot. Her body melts against mine, hands clutching at my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll vanish.
I cradle her face, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. She opens for me instantly, her tongue brushing mine, and control becomes a fragile thread I’m barely hanging on to.
This isn’t slow. It’s not careful.
It’s a goddamn claiming.
I kiss her like I’ve been starved, like she’s the first thing I’ve ever wanted and the only thing I’ll never get enough of.
Her hands roam over my chest, my shoulders, into my hair, and then she yanks me closer, demanding more like she’s just as gone as I am.
I press her back against the door, pinning her there with my body, and she moans into my mouth.
That sound. Fuck, those noises she makes.
My hand glides from her cheek to her throat, feeling the wild beat of her pulse under my palm. Then lower, skimming the edge of her breast through the layers between us.
She arches into the touch, and I break the kiss to trail my mouth down her jaw, down the soft curve of her throat, until I find the place where her pulse thrums.
“Jasper,” she gasps, and now her hands are everywhere, tangled in my hair, gripping my shoulders, dragging down my back like she needs something to hold on to before she falls.
I bite gently at her throat, then soothe the spot with my tongue.
She makes this desperate, breathless sound, half gasp, half moan, that snaps whatever control I was clinging to.
Fuck.
I grip her thighs and lift her in one smooth, instinctive motion. She lets out a soft, startled cry that ends in a laugh as her legs wrap around my waist like they belong there.
Shedoesbelong there.
Her arms loop around my shoulders, pulling me closer, and suddenly we’re pressed together, full-body contact, her soft, needy heat grinding against the thick ridge of my cock through my jeans. It’s a jolt to my system, and we both groan at the contact.
Her breath fans hot against my cheek as I kiss her again, rougher this time, pouring everything into it—hunger, frustration, the dangerous ache that’s been building since the second I laid eyes on her.
I pin her more firmly against the door. One arm wraps beneath her ass, holding her up, while the other tangles in her hair and tips her head back.
