Page 88 of My Wedding Night Massacre

"I had second thoughts the moment I saw you. Third, fourth, fifth. Lost count somewhere around tenth." He pushes off the frame, steps inside. "Then I stopped caring."

I close the door behind him. Lock it. The click sounds too loud in the quiet room.

We stare at each other.

"We should talk," I say.

"Do you want to talk?"

"No."

"Then don't."

He crosses the space between us in two strides, and then his mouth is on mine and nothing else matters.

Holy shit.

It's not gentle. Not tentative. It's raw and hungry and demanding, his tongue sliding against mine like he's trying to devour me whole. I moan into his mouth, and he swallows the sound, his hands grabbing my waist and pulling me flush against him.

I can feel him. Hard. Thick. Pressed against my stomach through his pants.

He wants me. He actually wants me.

My robe comes undone. His hands slide inside, find bare skin, and I gasp against his mouth because his touch is everything I imagined and nothing like I expected. Rough palms. Calloused fingers. The hands of a man who's done violence, who's survived things I can't imagine.

They feel perfect on my skin.

"Aurora." My name sounds like a prayer and a curse. He breaks the kiss, trails his mouth down my neck, bites the junction where my shoulder meets my throat.

I cry out, grab his shoulders to keep from falling.

"Too much?" His voice is rough, strained.

"Not enough."

He groans, pushes the robe off my shoulders. It falls to the floor, leaving me in nothing but the black lace underwear I’d put on, hoping this would happen. His eyes go dark, pupils blown wide as he takes me in.

"Fuck," he breathes.

"Is that a complaint?"

"That's a prayer." His hands cup my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples, and I nearly come apart right there. "You're so fucking beautiful."

No one's ever touched me like this. The twenty-three guys I dated, the ones who tried and failed to make me feel anything—none of them got this far. None of them made me want to beg for more.

But Axel. God. Axel makes me want to beg.

He backs me toward the bed, his mouth never leaving my skin. He's kissing, licking, biting his way down my body, and every touch sets me on fire. When he reaches my breasts, he takes one nipple into his mouth and sucks hard.

I scream in a voice that I do not recognize.

My hands fist in his hair, holding him there, and he chuckles against my skin.

"Sensitive," he murmurs.

"Quiet and keep going."

Axel groans, and I feel his teeth graze my unready, sensitive nipples. The action sends a hot sensation down to my toes, and I bite down hard on my bottom lip, my eyes rolling to the back in pleasure.