Page 45 of Corrupt Me

Pure emotions and raw instincts lead me. He’s the one holding me together, yet I want even more. I need him, not just to make me forget and take me somewhere else, but for him. Even his scraps nourish my starved soul.

I lift onto my toes and brush my lips against his.

“Bailey,” he groans and his minty breath dances on my lips, but he doesn’t reject me either.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” he murmurs in a low rasp. “You love to unravel me.”

With that, he crushes his mouth onto mine, and everything else disappears—it’s just him and me. Lips locked, our tongues tangle. He explores my mouth, and sensations burst from within me, coloring my insides in neon. I could get addicted to this incredible sensation—a pleasure-fueled high. Nibbling on my bottom lip, his tongue plunges back into mine—conquering, owning, seducing. I never want the kiss to end, so I kiss him back with equal fervor. His low groans only heighten the intensity of what’s happening between us.

One hand cups my cheek, the other snakes around my waist, lifting me off the ground. This is how he always makes me feel—as if I levitate above the ground, ready to sprout wings and fly.

“So sweet and tempting,” he says hoarsely as he places me down. But he doesn’t stop kissing me until we’re both out of breath.

I am still dazed when I look up at him and see his lips glistening from mine. I can’t form words. They’re trapped in my throat. I swallow the urge to tell him to kiss me again and again and again. But he places a hand on my back, urging me inside.

We kissed. Wereallykissed.

Mia, Blake, and Cillian are sitting around the kitchen table, and I am afraid what happened between us outside is written on my face.

“What took you so long?” Blake asks, grinning, and my cheeks heat.

Mia elbows him playfully, and Cillian gestures for the table. “So nice that you’re joining us. Hungry?”

“Yes,” but not necessarily for food, even though, given how my stomach behaves, maybe I should eat to give the butterflies a break.

The atmosphere is so different around their table that it instantly puts me at ease. There’s chatter, siblings bickering, and laughter wrapped in familiarity and love.

“So, are you two together?” his father asks. I choke on the asparagus while Hunter groans.

“Cillian, for that he needs to grow a pair,” Blake says smugly.

“You asshole.”

“Behave,” Cillian sighs as if it’s a regular occurrence.

“And she’s with someone else,” Mia adds.

“Traitor,” I mouth.

“She’s not,” Hunter says, falling into their trap.

“Pretty possessive over someone who you’re not with. Bailey, my son is a hothead, so I appreciate your patience.”

“Is this you ganging up on me?” Hunter huffs. While they’re keeping it light and teasing, he tenses, and they change the topic quickly.

“You should call Alice, son. She deserves a bit of gratitude, don’t you think?”

“I’ve been busy,” he mumbles, his grip tightening around the knife, though his face reveals nothing. His poker face is spot on.

After dinner, we move to the living room, where Mia pulls out a board game. We play for a while, but Hunter seems miles away. It’s in his gaze, traveling to the window as if there’s something there.

I place my hand on his thigh when it’s his turn to move the pawn.

“Is everything all right? I can leave,” I whisper.

“No, you’ve been the best part of tonight,” he says with a lopsided grin that could melt my heart and panties.

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