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"Me too," I tell him.
We come together once more, mouths meeting in a soft, lingering kiss. No more words are needed.
Maverick's hand comes up to cradle my face as our kiss deepens, no longer soft but hungry and demanding. The air between us ignites with pent up longing. It doesn't matter that he took me just a few moments ago. I need him again already.
My fingers twist into his shirt, pulling him against me.
Our breaths mingle in heated pants and gasps as we paw at each other. The cool air raises goosebumps on my bare skin, but Maverick's touch soon warms me. His hands blaze trails down my sides, over my hips, leaving no inch of me unexplored.
I meet his passion equally, nails raking down the muscular plane of his back, eliciting a low groan. We are beyond reason now, our bodies taking over in primal communication.
Maverick lifts me effortlessly, laying me back on the plush leather couch. The contrast of soft and hard heightens every sensation. He settles over me, strong and solid. Our eyes lock and an unspoken question passes between us. I answer by wrapping my legs around his waist.
We both cry out as he enters me in one smooth stroke. The feeling of connection is even more intense than our first time. I cling to him desperately, wanting more of him, all of him.
"Fuck, Willow, you'll be the death of me, beautiful," he groans as he buries his face in my neck and begins to plunge into me harder.
I throw my hips up at him, fucking him back, welcoming him with each powerful thrust of his body.
We move together in perfect sync, chasing the crest of ecstasy.
Higher and higher we climb until finally release takes us. Crying out his name, I shatter around him. Maverick buries his face in my hair, groaning as he follows me over the edge.
We remain tangled up long afterward, our hearts gradually slowing, breaths evening out. No words yet, just hands lazily caressing slick skin.
Whatever comes next, we have this moment. I want to live in it forever.
CHAPTERNINE
Maverick
I nodto the doorman as I enter Willow's building, hyper-alert as always. Ever since Willow gave herself to me, it’s been hell being away from her. I don’t leave her much—only when I have to. Most nights now, I stay with her in her room, but I had to get to my office today.
And I was miserable every second I was away from her. I want to live with my cock permanently inside her. She consumes my every thought, and I feel like a drug addict jonesing for another hit every second that I’m away from her.
I crave her like I’ve never craved anything in my motherfucking life, and my cock is already getting hard knowing that I’m on my way back to her.
In the elevator, I review the plan for her event tonight, contingencies spinning through my mind. When the doors open, I step out and freeze.
Her apartment door hangs open.
Icy fear grips me. My mouth goes dry, and my throat tightens.
In an instant I'm sprinting down the hall, heart pounding. I burst into the apartment, gun drawn. "Willow?"
No answer. The place is in shambles—furniture overturned, glass shattered across the floor. Signs of a struggle.
I sweep each room, fear rising. No sign of her. As I step back into the living room, my boot crunches on something. A black rose, petals crushed and torn.
Rage wells up inside me, white-hot.
I failed her.
But I won't rest until she's safe.
Vincent Barnes, you messed with the wrong girl.
I'll scour the city if I must, uncover every dark corner until I find the monster who took her. And then, I’ll make him regret ever touching her.
