Page 17 of Trapped Truth

As he skates a hand over his haphazard, silver-peppered hair, my core somersaults with desire so acute, it almost bowls me over. Years haven’t lessened his effect on my nervous system.

He drives me as crazy now as he did when I was a teenager, when he was a forbidden thought that kept me awake at night. Only now I know how his body feels nestled against mine. How he drives into me and splits my mind apart. How his hot, possessive commands and dominant streak bring out a side of me I didn’t know existed.

“Stop staring at me like that,” he says throatily. “Otherwise, we’re going to be doing anything but sleeping in here.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“You’re tired. We should rest.”

“I’m too geared up to rest right now. I need an outlet.”

Seizing the hem of the shirt I stole from our donated pile, I unceremoniously tear it over my head, leaving me bare. I opted to forgo a bra while sitting with Axel. Mine is bloodstained, and I wasn’t about to ask Willow or a stranger to borrow their underwear.

Warner’s pale aqua blues seem to darken, swirling with the intimidating threat of the open ocean. I hold his stare while pushing down my jeans, letting the denim pool at my ankles until I stand in plain panties alone.

“What were you saying about me being a brat?” I ask innocently.

“Fucking hell, love. You know how to test a man’s patience.”

He crooks a finger, beckoning me closer.

“Is that an order, boss?”

“Keep going,” he warns with an eye roll. “See what happens when I fuck the attitude out of you.”

“That’s not very professional of you.”

“I’ll show you professional.”

As soon as I’m within reach, his hands snap out to grab hold of my waist. I’m roughly tugged forward, legs splayed either side of his waist so I’m straddling his lap. Immediately, the hard jut of his erection greets me through thin fabric.

“Feel what you do to me?” he growls under his breath.

“Yes. You’re all mine.”

“Always have been, little astronaut.”

“Damn straight, Langley.”

Warner cradles the base of my skull, his lips crashing onto mine with no regard for gentle introductions. I wind my arms around his neck to bring us flush together and let his mouth hungrily devour mine.

To think there was a time when I longed to taste him. To cross that invisible boundary holding us apart, obliterate the rulebook and take exactly what I wanted without any care for the consequences.

I never would’ve believed he’d one day be mine. Mind, body and soul. Surrendering to him feels as natural as breathing. He can own my body however he pleases, and I know that no matter what, I’ll always be safe with him.

His tongue is a hot force, tracing the seam of my lips to grant passage and explore every available inch. It’s all I can do to let him drink his fill, clinging on tight when his hips rise to thrust into my centre.

Frantic, open-mouthed kisses travel along my jaw to my earlobe. He gives me a sharp bite that makes me gasp then moves lower still, sweeping his tongue over my throat and neck, almost seeming to mark his territory.

“You’re wearing too many layers,” I gasp, writhing on his lap.

“Then get on your knees, and do something about it.”

Only Warner could ever get away with bossing me around so brazenly. And only in the bedroom.

Planting a final kiss on his parted lips, I climb free then sink to the rug-covered floor. He uses the leverage from one leg to lift his hips, allowing me to pull his sweats down then discard them.

“No boxers?” I laugh in surprise.