Chapter 9 Eliza
eliza
I grab the front of his wet shirt and pull his mouth down to mine. Our lips meet, and the kiss ignites like wildfire. His hunger steals my breath. It’s an explosion of want, and all of my logic goes out the window.
His hands fist in my hair, angling my head back and taking control. I moan against his mouth, fingers scrambling at his shirt, desperate to get closer. He pulls back just long enough to yank the wet fabric over his head. Then his mouth is on mine again. It’s hot and demanding.
I run my hands over his chest. The hard lines of muscle flex beneath my palms. When my nails drag down his stomach, he groans and grabs my hips.
"Do you have any idea how long I've been wanting to do this?" He walks me backward until my shoulders hit the wall. "Since the second you stepped out of that car. Couldn't think straight. Couldn't breathe."
"Then stop talking and do something about it." My breath comes out in a sharp gasp of need.
His eyes go dark. Feral. Something primal flickers behind them that makes my thighs clench.
"You want something, sweetheart?" His voice drops to a growl. "You're going to have to ask for it."
"Walker—"
"Ask." His hand slides down my pants and grips my thigh. "Tell me what you want."
I’ve never begged for anything in my life. I’ve built a career on control, on composure, on never giving anyone power over me. But with his hands on my skin and his mouth inches from mine, all that armor means nothing.
"I want you." The words tear out of me, raw and desperate. "Please. I want you."
"Good girl."
He lifts me like I weigh nothing, and my legs wrap around his waist on instinct. I can feel him rock hard through his jeans. He’s pressing exactly where I need him. When he rolls his hips, he grinds against my center, and a moan slips between my clenched teeth.
"That's it." He carries me down the hall, his mouth hot on my neck, his teeth grazing my pulse. "Let me hear you."
We make it to his bedroom, but just barely. He kicks the door shut behind us and lays me on his bed with a gentleness that contradicts the hunger in his eyes. Then he stands back and looks at me, spread across his sheets.
"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." His voice is hoarse. Reverent. "And I'm going to take my time with you."
"I don't want time." I reach for him. "I want—"
"I know what you want." He catches my wrists and pins them above my head with one hand. "And you’ll get it. But first, I'm going to make you fall apart. Over and over. Until you forget every reason you had for pushing me away."
The promise sends tingles whipping across my body in waves. "Walker…"
He kisses me again. His tongue parts my lips, and I get lost in him. We move more slowly this time, but it’s no less intense. His free hand works the buttons of my shirt, then moves to my bra. He exposes me inch by inch, and I’ve never felt more beautiful.
When my clothes are reduced to a pile on the floor, and all that’s left are my underwear, he pulls back to look at me.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" His mouth lowers to my collarbone, trailing hot kisses down my chest. "Seeing the way the fabric moved across your breasts every time you bent over? Knowing you’re wet for me? Fuck."
I don’t get a chance to answer. His mouth closes over my breast, and I arch into him. I gasp as his tongue swirls and teases, turning my nipples into tight, aching peaks. He moves to the other side, worshipping me until I'm writhing beneath him.
"Please." I’m not above begging now. "I need—"
"I know what you need."
He releases my wrists and slides down my body, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. When he hooks his fingers in my panties, I lift my hips to help him pull them off.
"Beautiful." He parts my thighs with his shoulders and settles between them. "Absolutely fucking beautiful."
The first stroke of his tongue makes me cry out. He licks my folds. His movements are slow and deliberate, like he’s learning me. When he finds my nub, he circles it with maddening precision, building pressure until I'm shaking with each stroke.
"Oh god. Oh god, I'm—"
"Not yet." He pulls back, and I nearly scream in frustration. "You come when I say you can."
"You can’t just—"
He plunges two fingers inside me, and the words die in my throat. He curls them, finding that spot, and starts a rhythm that has me seeing stars. Then his mouth returns to my nub, sucking, licking, driving me higher.
My release builds like a wave. I reach between us, fumbling with his belt, desperate to feel him. He helps me, shoving his jeans down just far enough.
His tip is already slick, and he throbs when I wrap my hand around him. He groans, muscles tightening.
"Fuck." His hips jerk into my grip. "You keep doing that, and this is going to be over way too fast."
"Then stop teasing me and fuck me."
His eyes flare, and that’s all it takes. He climbs over me and cages me in with his arms. His length nudges at my entrance. We lock eyes.
"Last chance," he says, voice strained. "Tell me to stop."
I lift my hips, taking the first inch of him inside me. "Don’t you dare."
He slams into me in one thrust.
He’s bigger than I expected, and it steals my breath. He holds still, letting me adjust, and the burn quickly melts into pleasure as he begins to move. We fall into a rhythm. It’s deep and relentless. The whole world disappears around us.
"You feel so fucking good," he growls. "So tight. So wet. It’s like you were made for me."
I can’t speak. All I can do is hold on as he drives into me, every thrust hitting that perfect spot. Fire crackles in every nerve. My walls tremble and tighten around him.
"That's it. Come for me, Eliza. Let go."
My name on his lips shatters me. My release crashes through me in waves. My walls clamp down around him. He thrusts through it, dragging the release out until I’m screaming his name.
"Fuck yes." He groans and his hips stutter. "That’s my girl. That’s my good girl."
He keeps moving, prolonging the pleasure until I’m trembling. Then his rhythm turns erratic, harder, and more desperate.
"I’m going to come." His voice is ragged. "Going to fill you up. Make you mine."
"Yes." I wrap my legs around him, pulling him deeper. "Yes. Yours. I’m yours."
He buries himself to the hilt and comes with a deep, shuddering groan. I feel every pulse of his release. It’s hot and thick as it floods me. He breathes my name against my neck as his body trembles through the aftershocks.
We stay locked together, trembling, as the world slowly comes back into focus. But I don’t want reality. I want this. I want him.
When he finally lifts his head, his eyes are soft and tender.
"Hey." He brushes the hair from my face. "You okay?"
I don’t know how to answer. I’m the opposite of okay. I’m cracked wide open, every defense lying in ruins. But for the first time in my life… I don’t want to rebuild them.
"Yeah." I pull him down for a soft, slow kiss. "I’m okay."
He rolls to his side, taking me with him and keeping us connected. One hand traces lazy patterns on my hip while the other slips through my hair.
"Stay," he murmurs against my temple. "Not just tonight. Stay here with me and see what this could be." His arms tighten around me.
My heart rate ticks up. I think about California and my practice. I think about the life I built on the belief that love was a trap. I think about the way my mother wasted away waiting on a cowboy who never grew up.
Then I think about the man lying next to me. Walker stayed. He chose a crying baby and a broken heart.
"Okay," I whisper. Even now, I don’t know what I’m agreeing to. It’s all happening so fast. But I can’t deny that for the first time in my life, love feels like a chance worth taking.