I pin her wrists above her head with one hand, my grip just firm enough to keep her there. “Say it.”
“No,” she whispers, but her body betrays her, rolling into me, desperate for more. “This doesn’t mean anything.”
The lie stokes something wild in me. If she wants to pretend, fine—I’ll let her. But I’m going to make sure she remembers every second of this.
“We’ll see about that.” I release her wrists to drag my fingers down her sides. She shivers, goosebumps rising under my touch.
I trace every inch of her, my mouth following the path of my hands, lips branding her skin as I go. Neck, collarbone, the delicate swell of her breast—I pause there, lifting my eyes to hers. They’re wide and dark, pupils blown, lips parted like she’s on the verge of saying something.
“Still nothing?” I ask, letting my mouth brush against her skin.
She swallows hard, but no words come. That silence? A challenge.
I take my time proving her wrong, pulling sounds from her she probably didn’t even know she could make. Her body shifts beneath me, all instinct and heat, fingers twisting in my hair, pressing me closer like she doesn’t care if she drowns in this.
“Alfie.” My name breaks apart on her lips like she’s barely holding onto it.
I drag my hand lower, teasing along the waistband of her jeans. She lifts her hips, a silent plea, but I want the words.
“Tell me what you want.” My voice is low, rough, deliberate.
She hesitates, biting her lip, and I reward her with a slow, calculated stroke, pressing against the heat of her through thin cotton.
Her breath stutters.
“Say it,” I murmur, my teeth grazing the shell of her ear.
A shiver wrecks through her, nails digging into my arms. “You.” A breathless gasp. “I want you, Alfie Spencer.”
A wicked satisfaction coils in my chest. I claim her mouth, swallowing her next sound as I push her past words, past reason.
“This is the last time.” She pants when we finally break apart. “We can’t—we shouldn’t?—”
I catch her chin, tilting her face to mine. My voice is a slow, dark promise. “If this is the last time, Tara, I’m going to make damn sure you feel me every time you close your eyes.”
Her pupils dilate. Her lips part. No words. Just need.
I smirk. Drag my mouth down her throat, her collarbone. Savor the way she squirms, restless beneath me as I take my time, tracing heat over her skin with lips and teeth and tongue.
By the time I reach the waistband of her jeans, she’s trembling, breath coming in short, uneven gasps.
I make quick work of the denim, peeling it down her legs along with her underwear, leaving her bare beneath me.
I take a moment—just to look. Just tobaskin the way she’s sprawled out for me, wrecked and waiting. Then I drag my hands over every newly exposed inch, mapping her, memorizing her.
Because if this is the last time, I’m not just going to ruin her.
I’m going to make sure no one else even stands a chance.
Settling between her thighs, I press open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin there, lingering just to watch the way she squirms, how her breath stutters in her throat. When I finally taste her, she cries out, her back arching sharply off the bed.
“Alfie—” Her voice is wrecked, fingers diving into my hair, pulling me closer.
I lose myself in her completely, savoring every shudder, every gasp, every desperate movement of her hips. Her thighs tighten around my head, legs trembling as I push her closer, closer—until I suddenly pull back.
A whimper of protest leaves her lips.
I smirk against her inner thigh, kissing the heated skin there. “You tasteincredible,”
