Page 237 of She Walks with Broken Things

No control.

I found the edge of her anger, traced the heat with my tongue. Drove my hands under her thighs and tilted her hips upwards, meeting my mouth in one sudden movement.

She lifted her head.

I lifted mine.

My lips coated with her need.

“You fucking undo me.”

“Then show me.”

A guttural sound followed as I eased upwards. One hand went to my belt. I barely made it. Tugging. Twisting. Yanking and pushed free.

Her legs widened. Feet wrapped around my waist.

One brutal thrust and I was inside… where I belonged.

“Oh.” She groaned, closing her eyes and arched her back.

“No, you don’t.”

I gripped the back of her neck and tilted her eyes back to me.

“You watch me.”

I wanted that pain as I thrust. Wanted that fury. I wanted every part of her.

Her eyes met mine.

I held them and drove my body inside.

“Mine,” I grunted. “You get that? You. Are. Mine.”

The memory hit without warning. The alarms. The empty park. Her name tearing out of me as I raced through the house believing I was too late.

Something ravenous opened inside me.

I thrust harder. Losing myself in the terror and the feel of her. I lowered my mouth to hers, taking her hard. She was here. Beneath my hands. Warm. Breathing. Alive.

I’d almost lost this.

I almost lost her.

Her hands found my shoulders, holding on as I drove my hips harder against hers. The fury stripped away whatever control I had left. I drove into her harder. Pulling her mouth back to mine. I was savage in this moment. Still, I couldn’t stop. I needed the heat of her against me, the beat of her heart, every trembling breath that proved the nightmare I’d carried all the way home hadn’t come true.

I took her mouth.

Hard.

She whimpered.

Her spine bowing as she gave into me.

Nothing would ever be fucking enough.

I broke the kiss, buried my face against her neck and breathed her in like a starving man, because for those few minutes at the park I’d known exactly what the rest of my life would feel like without her.