Page 38 of Tessa and Nash

But I can do the same thing to him.

With trembling fingers, I manage to get his jeans undone and slide my hand inside.

The power that surges through me is intoxicating as I take his thick, throbbing erection between my fingers and watch his face change instantly. He goes dark, glazed, barely holding on.

“Don’t tease me,” he growls, as if he hasn’t done the exact same thing to me.

Too bad.

I take my time.

“You have no idea how badly I want you right now,” he mutters.

“Oh, I do,” I whisper against his neck. “But that makes no difference to me.”

I slip off the dresser and sink to my knees, the hardwood floor cool against my skin. His breath shatters as I take him into my mouth, feeling him pulse against my tongue, his hands tangling in my hair.

“Fuck, Tessa,” he groans.

His need vibrates through me, through everything.

“I need to fuck you,” he whispers.

Eventually, I rise again, breathless, knowing exactly what I want.

He’s already smiling. He plans to take his time ruining me.

“Here,” he says. “Sit.”

I climb back onto the dresser, never breaking eye contact.

He strips my underwear away with his teeth, kisses up my thighs, murmuring about how badly he needs to taste me too.

And when his mouth finally finds me, the world explodes.

I fall hard, screaming his name, losing myself completely.

He doesn’t let me drift.

He’s kissing me again, desperate, claiming, and when he finally pushes inside me, it’s everything.

Every thrust is deeper, sharper, more intense.

I cling to him as we break together, messy and burning and unstoppable.

It’s madness.

What the hell am I playing at?

CHAPTER NINE

Nash

January 4th

I wake up convinced two things are wrong.

One: my head feels like someone used it for rodeo practice.