She arches into me.
I lose the last shreds of restraint I had left.
My hand moves lower, cupping her thigh, pulling her even closer. She grabs my shirt, fisting the fabric, pulling me into her. She’s starving for me.
Her mouth opens under mine, and the world tilts.
Then it dissolves.
I don’t know how to be a man who wants something again without losing what he already has… but tonight, I want her anyway.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Faith
December 31st
The world narrows downto the press of his lips, the rough warmth of his hands on my waist, the breathless hitch of his voice when I tug him closer.
His mouth claims mine again, this time with a hunger that takes my breath away. My heart pounds in my throat. I'm pressed between his body and the cool wooden wall of the barn, the cold slicing across my skin while his heat sinks into me in deep, greedy waves.
My hands slide up his chest. Over the firm muscles beneath the shirt, to his shoulders, his neck. His pulse jumps beneath my fingers. The sound he makes is low, almost a growl, and it vibrates through me, making every inch of me ache.
“Faith,” he murmurs against my lips.
I’ve never heard my name like that before.
I pull him back down, kissing him harder, faster, the air between us crackling with danger. His fingers slide into my hair, tugging just enough to make my throat catch. His other handsettles on my hip, moving slowly, possessively, a touch that makes my body tremble.
My knees wobble.
Of course he notices.
His hand slides down, gripping my thigh, guiding my leg to wrap around his hip. The movement is instinctive, shockingly natural, and I don’t even think. I just move with him.
“Oh,” I whisper, the sound of it barely escaping.
His breath stutters against my mouth.
His lips burn through me. I can feel him, hard and urgent, pressing against me. My body reacts instinctively, pulling him closer, desperate for more.
“I want you, Dallas. Now.”
He lets go of me and drops to his knees, between my thighs. I don’t even have time to laugh at the idea of someone stumbling by—he’s already hitched my dress up around my waist, already tearing my underwear aside.
He’s already tasting me…
Dallas’s mouth is messy. He holds my leg pinned up, knee near his ear, like a prize fight he’s determined to win with his face.
Every time his tongue traces around me, I go tighter and tighter, the ache building behind my teeth. He makes me feel alive in a way I haven’t in a very long time.
This is different.
Is this how it’s supposed to be?
I brace both hands against the wall, legs practically climbing his shoulders.
“You’re gonna make me…”
