Chapter 34 #2
Something dangerous sparked in his eyes, right before his hand slid deep into my hair, locking at the nape of my neck as he tilted my head back, firm, possessive, leaving me with nowhere to move.
“Then let’s make sure you remember this,” he said, voice so low it thrummed straight through my bones.
He ghosted his lips over mine, enough to taste, not enough to satisfy.
Waiting to see if I’d shove him back.
But I was done running from him.
The instant he felt it, something in him snapped. A raw, guttural sound tore loose from his chest, feral and hungry and barely controlled…and then he slammed his mouth onto mine, all force and heat and desperate possession.
The kiss hit me like a surge of fire to the bloodstream. All the restraint he’d been holding back shattered in a single heartbeat.
I gasped against his mouth, trembling as my hands roamed blindly—gripping his broad shoulders, fingers pressing into the taut muscles beneath his skin, sliding over the hard planes of his chest—clinging to something solid in a moment that felt like it could set the world ablaze.
His fingers tangled fiercely in my hair, twisting hard at the roots, pulling me closer until an involuntary moan tore free from me, a vibration deep in my throat that sparked a fiery explosion in my core.
My lips parted beneath his, starving for more, and he devoured the invitation. His tongue thrust deep into my mouth, like he was claiming territory that had always been his.
He bit down hard on my bottom lip, tugging roughly before chasing the sting with his tongue. I let out a strangled breath—half moan, half plea—that only made him press in harder, relentless in his need.
His mouth was demanding, lips rough and unforgiving against mine as he kissed me like he meant to ruin me for anyone else.
No hesitation. No softness.
Just pure, raw need.
The world disappeared.
His tongue swept over mine in slow, devastating strokes, peeling back layers of pleasure from places I thought I’d buried long ago, dragging raw desire from the depths I still tried to guard.
He kissed me like he wanted to destroy the distance between us, like he was trying to consume the parts of me I kept hidden from everyone else.
I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to do either.
My body arched into him without permission, chasing every flicker of contact, every shift of his mouth against mine.
All I could do was feel: his lips, firm and demanding against mine; the way his breath trembled; the solid press of his chest against mine, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. I was caught between sensation and need, shaking under the weight of both.
His hand slid down my side, rough knuckles grazing hypersensitive skin, until he reached my hip. His grip tightened—possessive, anchoring—and then he hauled me flush against him. The friction made my pulse explode.
His hips rolled into mine with a slow, deliberate grind, thick and hard against the thin barrier of his boxers, and I gasped as my core clenched with want.
He pulled back, enough to make me chase his mouth. My teeth found his bottom lip, and I bit down, hard enough to break the skin and taste the copper. A ragged groan tore from deep in his chest, animalistic and unfiltered.
“You taste better than I ever fucking imagined,” he rasped against my lips, voice dark and frayed, barely holding together.
His hair curled around my fingers as I tugged, and the sound that ripped from him was pure, primal heat, like I’d lit a fuse he’d barely kept buried.
He crashed his mouth to mine again—urgent, wild—a man devouring what he thought he’d never have. Like I was the last breath he’d take, and he didn’t care if it wrecked him.
And gods help me… I kissed him back just as hard.
He tore away long enough to trail open-mouthed kisses down my throat, dragging heat across my skin. I arched into him, breath stuttering as he sucked hard right below my jaw, tongue flicking over the mark like he wanted me to feel it long after he was gone.
His teeth grazed the spot, and I moaned, to which he growled in response.
“Your skin tastes like fucking sin,” he bit out, the words rough, almost angry against my mouth.
He kissed me again—deep and bruising—his tongue curling against mine in a way that made my core clench painfully.
His thumb swept over my nipple through the thin fabric of my bra, and my head dropped back with a gasp, hitting the floor.
My head was spinning, breath broken and chest heaving as his thumb dragged over me again. My nerves were raw, lit up under every touch.
But I wasn’t about to let him have all the control. Not this time.
I pushed up with both hands, chest brushing his, and in one smooth movement, I rolled us, shoving him onto his back and straddling him in one motion.
His breath caught.
My thighs pressed against his hips, my palms splayed across his chest, and for a second, I just looked down at him. Flushed. Wild-eyed. Lips red from my teeth. The rise and fall of his chest barely contained the tension in him.
“Well,” I said, breathless, a wicked edge curling around every word. “You wanted me to remember.”
His hands flew to my hips, grip vice-tight as his gaze dragged down my body, slow, hungry, wrecked. He looked like he was already unraveling, and I’d barely even started.
I rolled my hips once.
Twice.
The friction shot straight through me, my clit catching perfectly with every grind.
My panties were soaking wet.
A low groan tore from his throat, before his head dropped back against the cold stone, exposing his throat, jaw clenched so tight I thought it might crack. He was holding on by a thread. And I was snapping it.
I did it again. Slower this time. Meaner.
My thighs quivered. But I didn’t stop.
I dragged my pussy over his hard cock—agonizingly slow, defiantly smooth—grinding down with just enough pressure to tease, not satisfy.
His hands gripped me even tighter, and bruising. He dragged me down hard against the thick, aching length of his cock, and a strangled cry tore from my throat as the pressure hit perfectly.
“Fucking hell,” he groaned, hot and ragged, as he rocked up into me once: a harsh, punishing thrust that made my eyes roll back into my head.
“You feel that?” he bit out, all danger wrapped in sex. “How hard I am for you? How fucking gone I am for you?”
My body reacted before I could think, arching into him, clenching hard, desperate for more. I couldn’t stop if I tried.
His hand wrapped around my throat, cutting my oxygen in one move. I almost came on the spot.
“I’m about to fuck you senseless, Nightcrawler,” he growled, the promise in his voice dark enough to make my whole body tense with anticipation.
Heat licked over my skin, unbearable, suffocating. I could feel it building, curling low in my core, stealing the breath from my lungs.
I rolled again, chasing the pressure of his cock beneath me, the ache already nearly unbearable.
“Last warning,” he gritted out. “If you don’t want that, stop now.”
And right then, at the peak of it—
My godsdamn phone rang.