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“That’s supposed to make ya better?”

“No.” My gaze holds hers. “It makes me harder to stop.”

Her breath quickens. “And what’s the bigger picture?”

“Control,” I say simply. “Not my father’s. Not the Crowes’. And not the Tallons’.”

“Why are ya telling me all of this?”

I fold my arms and study her. Bruise-red lips. Messy hair. Bright, relentless eyes. She understands more than most men I know.

“You’re smart,” I tell her. “You know the danger of talking when you shouldn’t.”

Her throat works. “Does that include me and you?”

“There is no us, Sera. You know that.”

Her brow creases. “Right.”

I should leave it there, but her pupils flare before I even touch her.

“If this were only a kink, I’d be bored the second you stopped running.”

She swallows hard. “And are ya bored?”

“No.”

Her chest rises as she takes a deep, steadying breath. I catch her chin before she can turn away.

“There is you.” I lower my face, bringing her mouth closer to mine. “There is me. And there is everything we both know we shouldn’t do next.”

“I won’t let you destroy me, Fionn,” she whispers.

“That’s not my plan for you,” I say against her lips. “But doing this is.”

That’s the thing I keep coming back for. Not the chase or even the fight. The fact she sees me clearly and still makes me earn another inch.

Then I kiss her, sliding my tongue into her warm mouth, and it irritates me how little of her I need before I want all of it again.

Sera’s fingers slide into my damp hair and pull. When I hum out my approval, she opens her mouth wider beneath mine, giving me more.

That’s the problem with her. She makes her surrender feel so fucking hot.

I grip the backs of her thighs and lift her. She gasps into my mouth, then her legs wrap around my hips, ankles locking behind my ass.

My towel loosens, and I don’t bother to fix it.

I carry her to the bed and lay her down. She props herself on one elbow, lips swollen, eyes bright as I drag her jeans down her legs.

I need her anger and brattiness, too. But for all my sins, I crave the part of her that gets turned on by the wrongness of us and how she surrenders to it.

She lifts her hips to help me when I hook my fingers into her underwear and pull her panties off.

I throw her clothes aside and take her top off next, dragging it over her head and tossing it on the floor. Her bra follows. Then she’s naked on my bed and still looking at me like she’d rather bite than beg.

My towel slips from my hips, and her gaze drops to my dick.

Instead of climbing onto her, I take her ankle and drag her toward the edge of the mattress. She doesn’t fight it, watching me the way she always does.