Page 184 of Vicious Temptation

“Where the fuck did you even get that?”

“Don’t ruin the moment.”

“I’m serious. Where were you keeping money in that thing?”

“Thiago.”

He’s still laughing when I grab the open sides of his shirt and pull him between my knees.

“Less talking. Keep stripping.”

The amusement lingers on his face as he slips the shirt from his shoulders and lets it fall to the floor. Then his hands are on me. He turns me around and gathers my hair over one shoulder, exposing the zipper running down the back of my catsuit. The music keeps playing as he drags it down, taking his time until the leather loosens around me.

His mouth brushes my shoulder as he works the suit from my body, and by the time the song starts again, neither of us is laughing anymore. Tonight, there’s no pretending and no rules about what we are. There’s no fuck-buddy bullshit I can hide behind tomorrow. I told him I wanted to be his, and he told me I already was.

Thiago turns me back toward him, and I barely get my arms around his neck before he lifts me. My legs wrap around him, and his mouth crashes into mine as he turns and sits on the edge of the bed with me in his lap. We kiss like we’ve been starving for each other our whole lives, not just months. Maybe that’s why this feels so different.

I’m his now.

He’s mine.

And knowing it makes me want him with a desperation I’ve never let myself feel.

My fingers disappear into his curls as I kiss him harder, rolling my hips and grinding against his thigh until I’ve made a complete mess of it. His hands cup my bare ass with the same urgency, holding me against him while the fucking song starts over again.

When we finally come up for air, we’re both breathing hard. A thin strand of saliva stretches between our mouths before breaking. Thiago reaches up to wipe the corner of my lip, but I grin and catch his wrist.

“You want another taste?”

His gaze drifts to my mouth. “You know I do.”

“Then ask me,” I murmur, tracing my thumb over his lip. “Show me how much you want me.”

His hand glides up my throat as he draws me toward him. “Let me have it, fera.”

I lean in and run my tongue over his lips as I tug his jaw open and spit into his mouth. He watches me as he swallows, his grip tightening around my throat.

The look on his face says I’m about to find out exactly how much.

Forty-Six

remi

Thiago’s mouth is back on mine, the kiss rougher, whatever restraint he had left gone the instant I challenged him to show me how much he wants me. I fist his curls and realize the fucking mask is still on.

Batman.

I almost laugh again, but then his mouth glides along my jaw and the urge disappears. This was supposed to be fun, and it still is. But tonight, every kiss and touch feels different. More honest. As if we finally stopped pretending this is only about sex.

His.

Mine.

Us.

I spent all this time pretending those words were more dangerous than anything else in my life, and now that I’ve finally said what I want, I don’t feel trapped.

I feel fucking free.