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“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I’m sorry too,” I admitted. “But part of me still hates you.”

“Good,” he grinned. “Because that means you still love me.”

Logic was gone. Emotions took over. I crushed my mouth against his. My hands against his chest turned to nails and scraped down his torso. All those cut abdominal muscles jumped beneath my touch and skyrocketed me over the edge. I knew this man. Knew him so well it was slowly killing me how much I loved him. Missed him. Recognized him. Every inch of his skin, every brush of his hands, my body registered like he was its master. And I was helpless against it.

“Nothing is more important to me than you,” he said against my mouth. He kissed me hard. Deep. Plunging his tongue to ravage my mouth and eat up my taste like a ravenous man with his last meal.

Tugging at my towel, he threw it open and it fell to the floor. The instant my skin met his was like coming home. My breasts pressed against his hot torso, making breathing impossible in the best way.

He grabbed my hips, his thumbs digging in, and slid them up my sides to my ribs. “Fuck I’ve missed you. Miss this perfect curve. Missed your sweet taste.” His hands were everywhere. Seeking out my skin roughly, like his fingertips were starved for a drink.

I threaded my fingers through his hair and bit down on his bottom lip. He hissed and shoved his tongue deeper. Pressing me further into the wall, he kicked my legs apart and hoisted me up. With a single arm wrapped around my waist, I locked my legs behind his back and kept kissing him. Hard and fast. Our teeth banged against each other’s. I paused only to scrape them against his jaw, then back to his mouth, as I went in for another brutally penetrating kiss.

Jack was a man who was always in control. But, right then, he was as lost as I was. I could feel it. Feel him. The part of my soul he’d taken with him was, for a moment, sparking to life.

“I’ve missed my woman,” he said, reaching between us to shove down his boxers. He used the head of his cock to find my slick heat. “Tell me you’ve missed me.”

“I have.” I cupped his face and kissed the side of his mouth, his cheekbone.

He ran the velvety crown between my folds, hitting the sensitive bundle of nerves, making me gasp.

“Tell me what you want.”

“You,” I said around a moan. He was grinding, up and down, against my damp core and it was driving me to the brink of blissful agony.

“Say it again,” he rasped against my face.

“I want you, Jack.”

I barely got his name past my lips when the thick head of his shaft breached me and he surged deep.

“Oh, God!” I screamed out. He groaned as he withdrew a few inches, then thrust up, impaling me again.

“Fuck, baby,” he said, like he was in pain, or ecstasy. But feeling him deep inside me turned everything I’d been fighting up a notch, and I lost myself to him. To missing him. To hating him. To loving him. Just lost everything.

“More,” I told him. Begged him. More of all of it. Because I couldn’t handle thinking. Couldn’t handle real life or what any of this meant. Couldn’t handle the past or the future. I just wanted to get through this. And that’s what I was doing.

He thrust in and out. My ass hitting the wall while he fucked me with all his strength. I held on to him, my nails digging into his back as I kissed him over and over until it wasn’t kissing anymore. It was tasting, biting, devouring. There was nothing sweet. Nothing slow. Nothing sensual about it. His skin slickened with sweat as he pumped harder, deeper, taking everything I had left to give, which I hadn’t even known existed. But Jack somehow found the last ounce of hope, the last fraction of the soul I had left, and tapped into it. Took me to the edge while I screamed his name and begged him not to stop.

“Look at me,” he said, one hand coming up to cup my face. I squeezed m

y eyes shut. Purposefully disobeying him. Partly because I couldn’t let him think he had control, couldn’t give in that easily. And partly because I was terrified of what I’d see in his eyes.

He thrust so hard, I squeaked with pleasure. He hit the end of every nerve I had.

“Look. At. Me,” he demanded.

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter. I was afraid. So afraid of the cliff I was about to fall over that I couldn’t bear to look at his perfect face. Couldn’t risk what I’d see staring back at me because, better or worse, it would be my undoing.

He pumped faster. The sound of him working my body over, thudding against the wall only heightened my lust. Pressing further against me, he ground his hips so there wasn’t an inch between us. He had me pinned. Unmovable. My body stuck between a wall and him, his hard muscles and hard cock the only leverage I had. And he wasn’t letting me go. Wasn’t pulling back, not even an inch.

“Stubborn woman,” he said, gripping me tight and stuffing that massive shaft into me over and over until my legs went limp. But he was so close that my thighs bobbed around his sides, unable to do anything but remain parted for him.

God, I loved it. Totally taken over, past the point of want and need. He was my air. The single thing I needed to breathe right.

Deep. He was so deep and only growing harder. My inner walls flooded with heat and a slow, hot lust clawed at my spine and shot out to the tips of my fingers and toes, burning up everything in its path. I clawed his back. Holding on for dear life. I’d never felt anything like the kind of release my body was pushing itself through. It was rolling over me in waves, gradually picking up pace while sticking me with shards of bright pleasure.

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