A startled sound slips out of me, and he swallows it with another kiss, one hand braced beside my head, the other locked around my waist.
I’ve imagined this so many times that I should already know what it feels like.
I don’t. Nothing in my imagination ever felt like this.
The heat of his mouth. The rough scrape of his beard against my skin. The way he breathes through his nose like he’s already losing control.
This kiss feels like the point of no return, the moment the last barrier gives way and burns behind us, leaving no path back to the people we were before it.
He pulls back just far enough to look at me, chest heaving. His eyes are dark and wrecked and feral with restraint finally giving way.
“Tell me everything you want from me, Charlotte, so there’s no confusion.”
His command sends a hot pulse straight through me.
I slide my leg over his hip and hook it around him, drawing him in until there’s no mistaking the press of his hard cock betweenmy legs. The contact pulls a sharp breath out of both of us. I hold him there, keeping him close, letting him feel how perfectly his body fits against mine and how easily I could open for him.
“I want you to fuck me until I can’t think or breathe, until all I can feel is you.”
My voice shakes by the time I finish, but I hold his gaze.
“Until there’s no going back because we can never be the same again.”
Moonlight catches the tension in his jaw, the slow movement of his throat as he swallows. His breathing deepens, eyes searching my face.
His hand tightens at my waist, firm enough to pull a breath from me.
His gaze flicks to my mouth, then back to my eyes. Something shifts, and the last of his restraint cracks.
“Make me yours. Completely.”
He wanted clarity. That’s as clear as it gets.
A rough breath leaves him. “Fuck it.”
And then he’s on me.
His mouth crashes into mine, all that restraint finally snapping. I taste salt and heat and something raw underneath it. I meet him just as fiercely, my fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him closer.
His hand slides up, settling at my throat—not tight, just there, steady and possessive—holding me where he wants me as he kisses me like he’s done holding back.
My leg stays hooked around his hip, keeping him pressed against me. There’s barely anything between us now—just thin fabric—and when he rolls his hips, the hard length of him drags against the heat between my legs.
A gasp breaks out of me. He catches my lower lip between his teeth, first gentle, then sharper, enough to make my breath hitch.
Then everything shifts.
His hand finds the hem of my sleep shirt. He hooks his fingers into the fabric and yanks it up in one impatient motion, stripping it over my head and tossing it aside.
“Lift up,” he says.
I do, and he drags my undies down my legs, discarding them.
The shelter is dim, lit only by moonlight slipping through the gaps in the walls. He goes still, his attention fixed on me.
Something in the way he’s looking at me sends a nervous flutter through me. But I don’t cover myself. I let him see me.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
