Page 76 of Run to Me

“Only when we’re alone. I don’t do PDA.”

“Fair.” He throws the cloth in the sink and tilts my head up to meet his darkened gaze. “Do you consent to my first two rules?”

A chaotic storm of desperation and desire swirls in his eyes. To someone else, the combination might scream of danger, a cautionary sign to run far away. To me, it’s a potent promise of divine worship, and I’m more than willing to be the goddess he serves.

I’m resolute in my answer when I say, “I consent.”

His hum of approval drowns out the sound of the zipper on the back of my romper. My belly flutters when his teeth graze my jaw and neck, and I silently beg him to bite harder. If anyone’s daring enough to fulfill my vampire fantasies, it’s Jensen, a thought I tuck away for another day.

“And what else?” I ask again, trembling with anticipation.

If he doesn’t take me in the next thirty seconds, I might combust. His control and confidence turn me on, and I’d give anything for him to pin me to the floor and rut into me like a wild animal.

Slowly, he drags my romper down my chest and arms. “Last, I’ll take care of you my way. If you let go and trust me, I’ll never leave you wanting.”

“Liar. You left me wanting at the wedding. I’m not convinced you have the skills to follow through.”

His warm breath tickles my ear. “That was your punishment for avoiding me. If or when I choose to let you follow through, believe me, your body won’t need much convincing.”

“You’re sure of yourself.”

“I’m sure of us. Now lift.”

I raise my hips enough for him to remove my clothes, which join my sandals on the floor. Deft fingers unclasp the front closure of my lacy bra and push the cups aside, the straps gliding off my shoulders. On instinct, I cover my breasts, suddenly aware of the bright vanity lights shining overhead.

Grasping my wrists, he pulls them away. “No hiding. Let me see you.”

“I have stretch marks.”

“I don’t care.” He kneads my breasts and tugs at my nipples while looking me straight in the eyes. “You’re gorgeous, birdie, inside and out. And I’ll never be the man who makes you feel like you’re anything less than perfect.”

Lavishing my breasts with his velvet tongue, he bends my legs and spreads them wide. He releases the nipple caught between his teeth and rises to his full height, rolling his neck from side to side. I recall the motion from his football days when he prepared to dominate on the field. The switch is flipped, the adoring man going dormant while his shadow comes out to play. My slick thighs and I welcome this version of him.

When he leans into me, the rough material of his jeans rubs my core. He speaks against my lips, low and commanding. “Here’s what will happen. I’ll lay you down and learn every inch of your body. Since I didn’t let you come last time, I’ll bury my face in your beautiful pussy until you cry out for either me or your god. Only then will I fuck you the way you want—hard and deep—until I’m the only man you’ll ever remember touching you.”

A hiss flows between my teeth when he pinches my nipple hard, and I slap his arm away. “Stop being a tease and get on with it.”

Splaying a hand across my jaw, he angles my head to meet his blazing stare. “That’s the last demand you’ll make while I have you naked. Like I told you before, you’re not in charge. You said you want to be all in with me? This is what ‘in’ looks like. Are we clear?”

“We’re clear,” I say, my jaw clenched.

I’ve noticed how his pupils expand when I give him sass. His eyes flare even now, hot and ecstatic, as he lifts me off the counter. Our mouths collide in a battle of dueling tongues and stolen breaths until he drops me onto the bed. With the lights on, I have nowhere to hide from the piercing gaze sweeping over me. I’m vulnerable, naked and at his mercy, while he’s fully dressed.

As promised, he licks and kisses and nibbles every inch of me from my ears to my toes. He rolls me onto my stomach and maps my body with his mouth and hands, avoiding the parts where I yearn for his touch the most. Once he’s satisfied with his thorough inspection, I’m a panting mess of arousal, dying for him to escort me straight to ecstasy.

He shucks off his boots, socks, and jeans. Then he crawls over me and straddles my thighs. The intoxicating, musky scent wafting from him and his bedsheets envelops me, and I’m overcome with burning need. When he claims my lips again in a brutal kiss and shoves his fingers in my hair, his big body cages mine.

I don’t feel trapped. Freedom is mere moments away, and I’m close to begging for it. I’ve wanted this for as long as I can remember, and I’m more than ready to dig way down into the fossilized center of my dreams and claim Jensen Holloway as my own.

My hands glide over the broad muscles of his back, arms, and chest, relishing every ridge and dip he’s earned from long hours in his gym. “Take this off,” I say, frantically tugging at his shirt so I can touch his bare skin.

Nervousness flickers in his eyes before he lets out a resigned sigh. Reaching with one arm over his shoulder, he tugs the shirt over his head and tosses it aside. Then he waits.

A wide range of reactions fight to appear on my face. None of them survive. Instead, I stare blankly at his naked chest. At the image staring back at me. At the hummingbird inked over his heart, hovering in flight. His birdie.

Like a silent summoning, I trace the outline of the bird with my fingertips. The detailing is incredible, a vivid painting of black, green, and white. A shading effect makes the tattoo appear silver in some places, and it’s the only art on his body with color. Rich, vibrant color.

With a thick swallow, I cram down the emotions rising in my throat. “Is it new?”