Page 155 of The Fire We Make

He wasn’t rushed, but he lacked the tender restraint he’d had the last time they were together like this. There was an edge to him now. A barely leashed aggression beneath every stroke of his tongue and tightening of his hands.

Joy didn’t mind it at all. She met him there. Fully.

Her hands slid up his back, gripping the back of his neck and pulling him closer like she was trying to fuse them together. Like any space between them felt wrong now.

Their kiss shifted then. Ace’s hands moved, precise and sure, like he already knew where she needed him.

He slipped his hand under the thin material of the slip, his hands dragging slowly over her skin.

Joy didn’t stop herself from arching into his touch. His deft fingers toyed with her as his mouth attacked her neck and chest.

“I need you, Adonis,” Joy whispered up to the ceiling as she rode his fingers.

Ace’s movements stopped and his whole body stiffened. He pulled back just enough to look at her.

Really look.

Her eyes weren’t guarded anymore.

No mask or distance.

No secret sitting between them that she could use as an excuse to retreat later.

She wanted him.

Whatever control he had left snapped clean in half, making way for a primal urge to claim her.

He lifted her into his arms and placed her on the bed without breaking eye contact. He kept his eyes on her as he made sure she was still there.

Still choosing him like he’d chosen her.

He pulled her dress over her head, baring her to him. He disposed of his own clothing so quickly he was a blur, his body begging to be back on hers. Back in hers.

His eyes traveled over her slowly, taking in her body with new eyes, but the same reverence. The scars he found now having more context.

The faint line near her ribs.

The mark at her shoulder.

The remnants of violence written across her body.

His mouth traced down her jaw, her neck, her chest, her stomach, every kiss saying, I see you. I want you. I’m not going anywhere.

Joy’s hands moved over him – exploring, claiming, and echoing every word back to him.

“I don’t care what anyone called you or made you believe. I don’t care what parts of yourself you feel like you have to hide. Every part of you is perfect. Every part of you belongs to me.”

Joy closed her eyes as emotion tightened her throat.

Ace’s hand wrapped gently around her neck.

“Look at me.”

She obeyed.

His thumb stroked the side of her throat, directly over the place Jermaine had once tried to steal the life from her, but his touch held no threat.

Only possession.