She did. Those hazel eyes were blown wide, dark with want, and for one terrifying second, everything I knew about myself—my name, my history, the ground beneath my feet—just evaporated. I was nothing but the heat of her.
“You’re a problem, Juliette.”
A laugh—surprised, disbelieving—broke from her lips. “Solve it, then.”
I didn't need the invitation. I punctuated the "solution" with a thrust of my hips that turned her laugh into a jagged gasp.
"You’re mine. Right now."
She nodded, frantic, her forehead dropping to mine. "Yours. God, Nick, please—"
"Please what?"
I knew what. Still needed to hear it.
"Please don't make me say it."
"Say it." I shifted my hold on her, one hand sliding up her spine to cradle her head, the other gripping her thigh hard enough to leave marks. Marks for tomorrow. "Tell me what you need."
"You." The word cracked in the middle. "Just you. Inside me. Now. I can't—I've beenwaiting—"
Twelve hours. One day of restraint down the drain in three seconds.
I didn't wait. Neither did she.
When I pushed into her, we both stopped breathing. Her legs tightened, her head hit the frame, her eyes rolling back as her fingers locked into my arms. I held there, buried in her, watching her lose the ability to speak.
I’m dead.
"Move," she whispered.
I moved.
The first few strokes hit hard. The angle. The heat. The way she clenched around me.
I braced my forehead against the canvas beside her head.
Control?
Checked out.
"Faster," she demanded, and who was I to argue with direct orders?
The sound of us—skin on skin, breath catching—filled the room. The neighboring suites heard everything.
Didn’t give a single solitary fuck.
I pulled back just enough to look at her.
She was wrecked. Hair everywhere, lips swollen. She looked at me with a terrifying kind of focus, like she’d forgotten there was a world outside this tent.
And I’d wiped the map clean.
"Come for me," I said, and it came out rougher than I intended. Darker. Needier. "Right now, Juliette. Let go. I've got you, baby."
Her nails bit into my shoulders again. Her mouth opened, but the only thing that came out was a sound that had nothing to dowith logic or data. She was trembling, tightening, falling apart in my arms.
My gaze snagged on the scuffed canvas panel and shredded lace. My hands hadn’t steadied yet. I’d pushed past the edge of my control, and the tent had the marks to prove it.
