A whimper escaped before I could stop it. I felt him hard against me through our clothes, the friction almost painful inits perfection. My hips rolled without permission and his grip tightened, holding me still.
"Don't." The word came out strangled. "Don't move or I'll?—"
I moved anyway, grinding against him, and watched his control shatter. He kissed me like he was drowning, like I was air, one hand fisted in my hair while the other gripped my thigh so hard I'd feel it tomorrow. Good. I wanted to feel it tomorrow.
Nothing else mattered—not practice, not Nate, not the fact that we were in a storage closet where anyone could walk by. Not when he touched me like this, like I was the only thing keeping him together and tearing him apart at the same time.
His mouth found my neck, teeth scraping, and I arched into him with a gasp. Every nerve ending fired at once, my whole body trembling as he held me against the wall like I weighed nothing.
"We have to stop," I managed, but my hands were pulling at his shirt, contradicting every word.
"I know." He didn't stop. His hips rocked against mine and the friction sent lightning up my spine. "Fuck, I know."
But neither of us pulled away. We just kept falling, kept burning, kept crossing every line we'd sworn we wouldn't touch again.
His hand left my thigh just long enough to free himself, and then he was there—hot and thick andfinally—pushing inside me in one rough stroke. My head fell back against the wall with a thud I barely felt, the stretch of him filling me so completely it stole my breath.
"Fuck," he groaned against my neck, voice raw. "You feel?—"
I didn't let him finish. My nails dug into his shoulders as I pulled him deeper, my body adjusting around him with a sharp, perfect ache. He bottomed out with a growl, hips pinning me to the wall, and for one suspended second we justbreathed—himburied inside me, me wrapped around him; the world narrowed to this single point of connection.
Then he moved.
His first thrust was brutal, punishing, like he wanted to brand me from the inside out. The wall rattled behind me. My teeth sank into my lip to keep from crying out, but the sound escaped anyway—broken, needy,his.
"That's it," he snarled, gripping my hip hard enough to leave marks. "Take it. You'remine, Donovan. Say it."
I should've argued. Should've reminded him of all the reasons this was wrong. Instead, my fingers clenched in his hair and I met his next thrust with a roll of my hips, my voice a wrecked whisper.
"Yours."
His control snapped.
After that, it wasn't fucking—it wasruining. He set a rhythm that stole my breath, each drive of his hips punishing, possessive, like he could erase every other touch I'd ever known with the force of his alone. The wall scraped my back. His teeth found my collarbone. I could feel him everywhere—inside me, around me,owningme in a way that should've terrified me but only made me cling tighter.
"You think about him when I'm inside you?" he demanded, voice a dark growl. "You ever let him fuck you like this?"
The question was a blade, but his hands on my body were worship. I shook my head, my answer lost in a gasp as he hitthere, that perfect, devastating spot that made my vision white out.
"Good." His mouth crashed back to mine, swallowing my moan. "Because you'remine, Billie. Only mine. And I'm gonna fuck you so hard you forget any other man evertouchedyou."
I believed him.
His pace turned relentless, the sound of skin meeting skin loud in the small space, my name a prayer on his lips with every thrust. I could feel him losing control, his movements growing rougher, more desperate, like he was trying to crawlinsideme and never leave.
My back arched as pleasure coiled tight, his name spilling from my lips in a broken chant. He felt it—felt me tightening around him—and his grip on my thigh turned bruising, his voice a dark promise in my ear.
"Come on my cock, Billie. Let me feel you."
The command sent me over. My orgasm hit like a storm, my body clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed through me. He swallowed my cries with his mouth, his own release following with a groan that vibrated through my bones.
For one perfect, suspended moment, there was nothing but this—him buried deep, my legs locked around him, our breaths ragged and shared. Then reality started to creep back in, cold and unwelcome.
His forehead dropped to mine, his voice rough.
"Fuck." A shuddering breath. "We can't?—"
"I know."
