Page 204 of The Contract

I cup her face, my chest tightening with something fierce, something unbreakable. “You are the only thing that matters.”

A tear slips down her cheek, but this one isn’t from pain. It’s something else. Something raw and real.

She lets out a soft, breathless laugh, shaking her head. “I love you so much, I feel fucking ridiculous.”

I don’t let her say another word.

I kiss her again, deep and consuming, pouring everything I feel into her—every ounce of love, every promise, every fucking shred of devotion I have left to give.

She melts into me, kissing me back just as fiercely, just as desperately, and I know, right then and there—this is it.

This is forever.

I brush my thumb across her cheek, drinking in every detail of her face—the flush of emotion still warming her skin, the slight part of her lips, the way her eyes soften as she looks at me.

“Come back with me,” I murmur. “Come home.”

Her breath catches.

Not my home. Ours.

The weight of it lingers between us, unspoken but felt in every charged second that passes. It should feel fast. Two weeks. That’s all we’ve had. But fuck, when has time ever dictated what’s right? When has anything about us ever followed the rules?

“Okay.” She says it so softly, but it drops within me like an anchor.

Her lips twitch, and I recognize the faintest hint of a smile breaking through. “Besides,” she says, voice laced with something teasing, something lighter than the storm we’ve just weathered, “my driver pulled away, so I need a ride anyway.”

I huff out a laugh, shaking my head, unable to stop myself from brushing my lips over hers again—just a quick, teasing taste. “Nothing but trouble.”

She hums, pressing her hands to my chest. “And you love it.”

“Fucking right, I do.”

I lace our fingers together, leading her toward the door, the weight that’s sat on my chest for days finally easing as we step outside and toward the waiting limo.

Elena slides into the limo first, the dim interior lighting casting a soft glow over her as she settles onto the leather seat.

I climb in after her, barely getting the door shut before she moves.

The second the latch clicks, she grabs my tie and yanks me toward her, closing the space between us in an instant.

A startled breath leaves me—more of a growl than anything—before her lips crash against mine, all heat and desperation, taking exactly what she wants.

Me.

I barely have time to process it before instinct takes over—before my hands are in her hair, tilting her head just the way I know she likes. Before I’m groaning against her mouth and letting her fucking devour me.

Everything fucking ignites.

This kiss isn’t like the one at the bakery.

This is need. This is hunger. This is possession.

Her fingers slide into my hair, her body pressing against mine, and I’m done fucking waiting.

My hands find her thighs, spreading her wide as I drag her onto my lap.

She gasps into my mouth, and I use it to my advantage—sliding my tongue against hers, swallowing every sound she makes.

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