Page 53 of This Wild Heart

There it was, a spotlight on whatIwanted.

There was no hiding it now. No pretending I hadn’t been thinking about it on an endless, shameless loop.

Her eyes dropped to my mouth, and I fucking swear, my entire body trembled for how impossible it was to hold myself back.

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Pretend with me? Just for tonight?”

Any thread of sanity, any rational thought of holding back was fucking decimated. I strode over to Anya—blood screaming, heart thundering, and every instinct inside me roaring that this was exactly what we needed—slid my hands into her hair, and crashed my mouth against hers.

Chapter 13

Anya

The moment his lips touched mine, any voice inside my head urging caution shut right the hell up. There was no stopping, no slowing, no pause to decide whether we should or shouldn’t. I didn’t want to pause, and I didn’t want to decide what came next. The craving to let him take control spun through my head, and like he could read my mind, he did exactly that.

It was domination, plain and simple.

It wasn’t just the way he kissed, which was mind-bendingly thorough. It was how he managed to snag the breath from my lungs and weaken my knees as his arm banded around my waist, anchoring me to his body. All that hard, hot muscle turned my hands greedy and demanding, touching as much as I could.

Parker’s jaw pushed down, forcing my mouth open, and when he licked into my mouth, I whimpered, my hand digging into his hair and grabbing hold tighter than I ever would’ve dared. This was a dirty, raw kiss, the kind that scrambled brain cells and blew past even the sturdiest sense of discipline.

His other hand left my hair and slid down my back, shifting underneath my dress in one deft movement, his palm covering my ass as he clutched my hip with hard, demanding fingers.

I wanted to climb this man like a fucking tree, and I rolled to the balls of my feet to get closer, closer, closer. His palm coasted over my waist, grip tightening over my ribs before I sucked his tongue into my mouth.

A sound escaped his mouth, something tortured and obscene, a noise he’d make if I had my head between his legs or if he had his between mine. An out-of-control, violent need to experience both of those things had me tearing at the buttons of his shirt. Parker broke away from the kiss just long enough to help me, finally ripping at the shirt hard enough that buttons scattered onto the floor.

“Fuck,” he groaned as I tore it off his shoulders and raked my fingernails down his chest. “God, you’re going to have me on my knees, aren’t you?”

“Off,” I begged.

Parker complied, tearing at the shirt until it was gone. His body was insane, and I licked along his collarbone, hands sliding over his abs and obliques. The shifting muscles under my palms had my heart thundering. His hands moved to my back, ripping at the hook and zipper until the top of my dress was loosened. He stole my mouth again, sliding his tongue over mine in a rough drag while his hand pushed the strap of my dress down.

His entire body froze when he realized I wasn’t wearing a bra underneath the dress, head pulling away slowly to glance down. His eyes locked on mine as he used his thumb to drag a featherlight circle over the tip of my breast. My stomach shook, and my knees gave out underneath me, but he had me.

He had me.

His impossible strength kept me anchored to his chest as he dove to the juncture of my neck and sucked. Hard. Paired with the flicking motion of his thumb, I swear on everything holy, I almost saw stars right fucking there.

But I wanted himinme. I wanted to watch him lose control while my mind split from my body and my skin stretched to keep everything contained.

“Bed,” I begged. “Bed, please. I want to feel you over me. Just once. Oh please, I just need this once.”

Parker’s hair was wild, his pupils blown wide, and his cheeks flushed. Red streaks down his chest from my nails. He cupped my face in both hands, an anchor in the midst of the wild heat building between us. “Stop me now if you have even a single doubt, Anya, because I’ll walk away if you do.”

Consent was hands down the most underrated tool in a man’s arsenal.

Asking what a woman wanted and how she wanted it was a shock wave of power that spiraled into a reckless kind of need.

Show me.

Teach me.

Wreck any doubts or insecurities or broken pieces that might remain.

Want me.

I took his hand from my chest and slid it around my throat until his palm bracketed the back of my neck. That dominant hold and the feral light that flashed in his eyes had me leaning forward to ghost a kiss over his lips.

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