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Because it makes me want more. Need more.
I tell him so.Right now.
By vibrating the inches between us with my urgent moan. By twisting an urgent hand into the front of his T-shirt.
By exploding the moan into a frustrated chuff, realizing that this is one of the T-shirts that theministrasconjured for him at Iremia—so it’s two sizes too small. The cotton snaps away as soon as I tug at it.
I’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.
“Show me,” I plead in a throaty husk. My other hand rises, cupping his face as he’s doing to me. But pressing in harder. Craving him more. Every drop of the oceans in his eyes. Every zap of the intensity beneath his jaw. Every coil of the strength in his body. “Show me how happy, Maximus.”
His brow crunches in a silent question, but I’m prepared to give him the answer. In the greedy rush of my own kiss, working against his mouth with a hungry thrust. In the demand of my hands, scoring his scalp and shoulder with passionate digs. In the new sound that travels up my throat, high and achy and unrelenting, telling him I won’t stop until he responds.
Oh, how he does.
With the sensual snarl that vibrates through his own system, so powerful that it possesses my bloodstream.
With the force in his own grip, now raking along my sides—until he’s pulled off my main layers of clothes.
With the expression that takes over his face, unspeakably sultry and meaningful, as he stares at me in nothing but my underthings.
My bloodstream still approves. And now, much more of me too.
It’s a blaze I’ve never felt before, making me double-check my limbs with assessing grabs. Am I still all here? Or has he thrown me into his demigod incinerator and torched me to pieces? Everything still feels in place…
Until he introduces a new fever into every inch of my nervous system. An electricity that sings on the wires of my senses, zinging into my extremities as he seizes my elbows. Hauls me closer and tighter. And then plunges his mouth back over mine, not settling for a brief brush this time. Not even close.
It’s one of the most passionate possessions of my existence.
And Iam…possessed.
By him, with him.
Obsessed…
For him, because of him.
So maybe that makes me a total mess too—the opposite of every glam, go-getter girl boss that Mother’s pushed for my brand since I hit puberty. But what it also makes me ishonest. And brave enough to confront that truth. And broken enough to accept it. To know I can’t set it all back to right by myself.
I need help.
I needhim.
And isn’t that part of being a boss too? Knowing when it’s all too much? Knowing how to admit it? Knowing how to offer everything I am to help fix it?
I don’t look around for an answer. It’s already waiting, right here inside me, bursting with my love for this man.
Blessed…by so much of him.
He has to see all of that on my face, but his stare still rakes my features like he’s seeking the message out. He grabs me by the corners of my jaw, holding me in place as he peers further. Deeper. I’m not allowed to escape a second’s worth of his stare.
“Nowyoushowme, Kara,” he grates. “But not the happiness. We’ll get to that. What I want is all the rest. What you’re still trying to hide from me. Show. Me.”
I shake my head, fighting his hold. Not hard yet but with a clear directive. “I’m not holding anything—”
“You are,” he insists. “I glimpsed it. Right after I walked in but before you noticed me. I saw it, Kara.”
“What? Me sobbing my eyes out? As I remember it, Ididshow you. Every last humiliating detail.”
