Olivia
His fingers curled around my throat—firm enough to tilt my head back until the wall met my skull with a soft thud.
The angle changed everything. Made me arch into him, made my breath come faster, made the world narrow to nothing but the heat of his mouth and the pressure of his body and the way his thumb brushed just under my jaw.
I gasped and his tongue slid in—deep, claiming, dominating in ways that sent fire licking through every nerve.
His other hand stayed on my waist, but now his fingers dug in, possessive, like he was memorizing the shape of me through the fabric.
The kiss turned rougher, hotter; his teeth nipping my lower lip before soothing the sting with another slow slide of his tongue.
My hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging in through his jacket.
The muscles under my palms were coiled tight, trembling with the same restraint that had just shattered between us.
He made a sound—low, guttural, almost pained—and shifted closer, his thigh pressing between mine until I could feel the heat of him through both our clothes.
A whimper escaped me, swallowed immediately by his mouth. His grip on my throat adjusted slightly, thumb brushing my pulse point, and I felt the way it jumped under his touch. Felt the way his own breathing hitched in response.
He pulled back just enough to murmur against my lips, "Tell me to stop."
I couldn't. Wouldn't. My fingers tightened in his jacket, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. His eyes burned into mine—dark, hungry, searching for any sign of hesitation.
There wasn't any.
His mouth crashed back into mine, harder this time, his body pinning me against the wall with deliberate pressure. The kiss turned desperate, his tongue stroking deep, his hands roaming—one still at my throat, the other sliding up to tangle in my hair, tilting my head exactly where he wanted it.
I arched into him, my body responding without thought, without hesitation. The heat between us was unbearable, the pressure of his thigh exactly where I needed it, the way his teeth grazed my lip before his tongue slid back in—
He groaned, low and rough, and the sound vibrated through me, making my stomach clench. His hand left my throat, skimming down my side before gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. The kiss turned filthy, his tongue fucking my mouth with slow, deliberate strokes that had my legs trembling.
I gasped against his lips, my nails scraping down his back, and he answered with a growl, his hips rolling once, just once, the friction making my breath stutter.
His mouth trailed down my jaw, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin beneath my ear. "You're killing me," he rasped, his voice rough, broken.
I couldn't speak. Couldn't think. Could only cling to him, my body burning, my mind blank with need.
His hand slid under my shirt, calloused fingers splaying against my bare waist, and I shuddered, my back arching off the wall. His thumb brushed the underside of my breast, teasing, and I made a sound that was half moan, half plea.
He froze. For one heartbeat, two—his breathing ragged, his body trembling against mine.
Then he tore himself away.
His back hit the opposite wall with a thud as I yanked him toward me, fingers twisted in his hoodie. The fabric stretched tight between my fists, my pulse hammering in my throat. His chest heaved, dark eyes wild with something raw and dangerous.
"I can't—" His voice broke, rough and strained.
"Please." My voice came out as a whisper, trembling but certain.
His jaw clenched. "Fuck." A shudder ran through him. "You don't know what you do to me."
I stepped closer, my body pressing against his. "Then show me."
His hands came up, gripping my waist hard enough to bruise. "I don't want to hurt you."
The words sent a thrill through me. I tilted my chin up, meeting his gaze head-on. "I want you to."
Something dark flashed in his eyes. "You don't know what you're asking."
I clenched my teeth, frustration burning. "Fine."
"Fine?" His grip tightened, fingers digging into my hips.
"Get out." My voice cracked, but I forced the words out. "Go. I'll call Ben and—"
His expression twisted. "That boy won't touch you."
The possessive growl in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. I pushed against his chest, but he didn't budge. "You don't get to decide that."
His hands slid up, gripping my shoulders. "Like hell I don't."
I glared at him, my breath coming fast. "You walked away. Remember?"
His grip shifted, thumbs brushing the pulse points in my neck. "I'm here now."
The heat of his touch burned through me. "For how long?"
His eyes darkened.
The words hung between us, heavy and dangerous. I should have pushed him away. Should have told him to leave. But the way he looked at me—like I was the only thing he wanted, the only thing he needed—I couldn't.
I reached up, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "Stop talking."
His mouth claimed mine again, brutal and consuming, his tongue stroking deep as he walked me backward. My spine hit the doorframe, and he didn't stop, his body pressing into mine as we stumbled into the dark bedroom. The door slammed shut behind us.
His teeth caught my bottom lip, tugging hard enough to sting before his tongue soothed the bite. I gasped, and he swallowed the sound, his hands fisting in my hair, angling my head exactly where he wanted it. The kiss turned filthier, all teeth and tongue and raw hunger that made my knees weak.
"No one else," he growled against my mouth, his voice rough gravel. His hands gripped my waist, spinning me until my back hit the wall beside the bed. "You hear me?"
I nodded, breathless, my fingers clawing at his jacket.
"Say it." His teeth scraped down my throat, making me shudder.
"No one else." The words came out broken, desperate.
"Not that boy." He bit down on the curve of my neck, hard enough to leave a mark. "Not anyone."
"Just you." I arched into him, pulling at his jacket until it slid off his shoulders and hit the floor.
He groaned, low and possessive, his hands sliding under my shirt. Calloused fingers burned against my skin as he yanked the fabric up and over my head, tossing it aside. His eyes raked over me, dark and hungry, and I reached for his hoodie.
He grabbed my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand while the other traced the lace edge of my bra. "You're mine."
The words sent heat pooling low in my stomach. I nodded again, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
He released my wrists long enough to strip his hoodie and shirt off in one motion, and my hands immediately found his chest. Warm skin, hard muscle, scars I wanted to trace with my tongue. His breathing hitched when my nails scraped down his abs.
"Fuck." He captured my mouth again, his hands working the button of my jeans. The denim slid down my hips and I kicked them off, my fingers fumbling with his belt.
He pushed my hands away, undoing it himself, his eyes never leaving mine. The restraint in his movements was razor-thin, every muscle trembling with the effort of not throwing me on the bed and taking what he wanted.
I reached for him the moment his jeans hit the floor, my hands sliding up his thighs, feeling the tension coiled in every line of his body.
His hand shot out, gripping my throat gently, tilting my head back. "You're sure about this?"
I met his gaze, steady despite the way my heart hammered. "Yes."
His thumb brushed my pulse point, feeling the way it jumped under his touch. "You're a fool," he murmured, his voice rough with something darker than desire.
Then his mouth crashed into mine again, swallowing any response I might have had.
His free hand slid down my body, fingers tracing the curve of my breast before his palm cupped me through the thin lace of my bra.
I gasped into the kiss, my back arching as his thumb circled my nipple, teasing it to a hard peak.
He broke the kiss just long enough to yank the bra down, his mouth finding my breast with a hunger that made my knees weak.
The first pull of his lips sent a jolt straight between my legs, and I tangled my fingers in his hair, holding him closer.
His tongue swirled around my nipple before he sucked hard, the sensation bordering on pain but sending waves of pleasure through me.
My breath came in sharp gasps as he switched to the other breast, his hand sliding between my thighs.
The first brush of his fingers against me made my hips jerk, and he growled against my skin, the vibration making me whimper.
His teeth grazed my nipple before he soothed the sting with his tongue, his fingers working me with a rhythm that had my nails digging into his shoulders.
"You're so fucking responsive," he muttered against my skin, his breath hot. His fingers curled inside me, finding that spot that made my vision blur at the edges. "Every little sound you make—"
I cut him off with a broken moan as his thumb pressed down on my clit, the dual sensation overwhelming. His mouth found mine again, swallowing my cries as his fingers moved faster, harder, his free hand gripping my hip to hold me steady.
His fingers curled inside me, his thumb pressing just right—pleasure coiled tight, ready to snap—and then he stopped.
I whimpered, my hips jerking forward, chasing the friction he’d just denied me. His breath was hot against my inner thigh as he kneeled before me, his dark eyes locked on mine. The look in them sent another wave of heat through me, my body throbbing with unfulfilled need.
He didn’t move. Just breathed me in, his nostrils flaring slightly, his grip on my hips tightening. A low groan rumbled in his chest, the sound vibrating against my skin. "Fuck, you smell like sin."
My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly, but he didn’t budge. His thumbs traced slow circles on my hipbones, his breath warm against the most sensitive part of me. "Touch your tits," he ordered, his voice rough with command.