Page 94 of They Are Mine

Then his mouth is on mine.

And fuck me, he kisses like he’s been starving for this.

Like he’s already ruined.

His hands are rough but precise, gripping my waist, dragging me forward, hauling me straight into his lap.

And God, he’s hard.

The second I straddle him, I feel it.

Feel the thick, solid press of him against me, so fucking heavy it has me gasping into his mouth.

And Orion?

He growls.

Low. Deep. Possessive.

And just like that?

We’re grinding.

I rock against him, hands sliding up his chest, memorizing the ridges of muscle, the firm heat of his body beneath his shirt.

His fingers dig into my thighs, urging me on, his hips rolling up to meet mine in slow, punishing strokes that have me whimpering into his mouth.

I feel the way he grips my ass, the way he pulls me tighter against him, lets me feel everything.

And suddenly, clothes are a problem.

My hands dip lower, slipping beneath his shirt, nails dragging over taut, burning skin, feeling the way he shudders at my touch.

He needs this.

And fuck, so do I.

I bite his lip, hard, just to hear what kind of sound he makes.

He groans.

Then his grip tightens, and his mouth is on my throat, his tongue dragging over my pulse, teeth scraping, sucking, leaving something dark behind.

Marking me.

Oh. Oh, Orion.

You shouldn’t have done that.

Now?

Now I’ll never let you go.

Orion’s fingers press beneath the waistband of my leggings, rough and warm, teasing against the sensitive skin of my hip.

His other hand?

Firm around my throat.

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