He pins me against the wall and slams his hips into mine.
I gasp.
I’m already reaching to undo my bra.
I want him inside meright now.
“I missed you so much,” I tell him breathlessly.
“Fuck, Clee.” His eyes are amber, lit by lust. “I missed you to hell and back. You’re all I can fuckingthinkabout. Even when we had a million other problems, you were always front and center. You made me a regretful idiot, and I’m not sorry.”
No, not now. Later, later.
I bring his face back to mine, relishing his fingers tangling my hair in his fist.
Kiss me some more. We’ll have time for hard discussions after.
He swings me around and brings me to the kitchen table. The one we ate breakfast at this morning.
There, he sits me down and rips my blouse off.
“Those magnificent tits,” he growls. “Never thought I’d see them again.”
“I’ll make a poet out of you yet,” I tease.
His dark gaze deepens, and both hands squeeze my breasts possessively.
“Joke all you like. I’m marking you all over.”
I shudder at his promise.
My legs open automatically, an invitation he takes, hauling my pants and panties off in one quick lift. Then his hand shifts between my legs, fingers pushing where I need him, and I arch into his touch.
He pushes my shoulder, easing me back against the cold lacquered wood.
“Good girl,” he whispers, removing his belt. “Stay.”
Like I could ever do anything else.
And when he strips his shirt off over his head, revealing miles of muscles that torment me so beautifully, my mouth goes dry.
He says he missed me, but he doesn’t evenknow.
He can’t fathom how awful, how deprived I felt after our little breakup.
I missed his contrast more than my next breath. This human bear, capable of such violence, feels so gentle when he touches me.
Gentle when I need him to be.
But not today.
Not when it feels like forever and way too long.
“Holden,” I whimper.
His eyes capture mine as he pushes one finger inside me, then the next.
Meanwhile, he pulls his cock out, stroking it full and pulsing with one hand.
