Page 21 of A Very Grumpy Marine

She’s here now. She’s mine.

I just need to make sure that I can make it permanent.

SEVEN

Lymric

The first thingI notice when I wake up is warmth.

It’s everywhere—wrapped around me, under me, pressed into every inch of my skin. It’s heavy and solid, and the steady rise and fall of his breathing tells me exactly where it’s coming from.

Camden.

I blink against the morning light, my head still hazy with sleep, my body relaxed in a way that only comes from a night spent tangled up with him. My cheek is resting against his bare chest, his arm is slung low around my waist, holding me tight, like even in sleep, he refuses to let me go.

Like I belong here.

And damn, I wish I did.

I exhale slowly, shifting slightly, and that’s when I feel it—his grip tightening, his fingers digging into my hip like my movement stirred something inside him. His breathing changes, deepens, and before I can say anything, his voice rumbles through the silence.

“You trying to sneak away, baby?”

I freeze, my heart kicking up at the sound of his voice—low, rough, still laced with sleep.

“I wasn’t sneaking,” I murmur, tilting my chin up to look at him. His dark blue eyes are already open, locked on me, heat simmering beneath the surface.

His lips curl into a slow, lazy smirk. “Good. Because I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Before I can react, he moves, flipping us so fast that I barely have time to let out a surprised gasp before I’m pinned beneath him.

“Camden—”

I don’t get the chance to finish. His mouth is on mine, stealing my words, stealing my breath, kissing me like he’s been waiting for this all night. Maybe he has.

I moan against his lips, and that’s all it takes for him to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine, his hands roaming down my sides, gripping, exploring, making it impossible to focus on anything but him.

God, he’s good at this.

The way he kisses—possessive, slow, like he’s savoring every second—makes my head spin. Makes my body press up against him, desperate for more.

His lips leave mine, trailing down my jaw, along the curve of my neck, and I arch into him, my fingers threading through his messy hair. He groans when I tug, his breath hot against my skin.

“Baby,” he murmurs, nipping at my pulse, making me gasp.

I want to say something, want to tell him that he’s driving me insane, that I don’t know what the hell to do with all these feelings he’s stirring up inside me, but I can’t. My body reacts before my brain can catch up.

I hook a leg around his waist, pulling him closer, and his answering growl sends shivers racing down my spine.

“You always wake up this needy?” he teases, his lips brushing against my collarbone.

I bite back a whimper, knowing he’ll use it against me. “You started it.”

His laugh is low, dark. “Yeah?” His fingers slide beneath the hem of my shirt, skimming over bare skin. “You want me to stop?”

I should say yes. I should stop this before I get in too deep.

But I don’t.

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