Page 27 of The Break Down

This is two adults, desperately attracted and finally giving in.

That doesn’t mean it’s anything more.

But God, the way he touches me? The way he devours me?

It feels like more.

He groans when I tug him closer.

One of his hands braces beside my head while the other slides down, gripping the soft curve of my thigh and hitching it up over his hip.

I gasp, the friction of his hard body against mine lighting me up like dry kindling.

“Koa—” I breathe, but it comes out more like a whimper.

“I tried,” he growls into my neck, kissing and biting down the column of my throat. “I swore I’d keep my hands off you.”

I scrape my nails across his back in answer, and he shudders.

His hand slips beneath my tank top, fingers spreading wide over my bare skin. He touches me like he’s memorizing me.

Like he’s claimed this moment and everyone after.

And I’ve never felt so damn desirable in my life.

My pussy is aching, throbbing with the need to be filled.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me, Red,” he whispers against my jaw, his voice ragged. “You think this is some harmless flirtation? It’s not. I burn for you.”

My body arches toward him. There’s nothing between us but thin cotton and the weight of everything unsaid.

I can feel the hard length of him, heavy against my stomach, and it sends a wicked thrill through me.

“Fuck, Red,” he growls, licking at my neck. “You feel that?”

“I want you,” I whisper, finally, honestly.

His eyes blaze as he reaches down and slides his hand into my shorts, cupping me over the damp cotton of my underwear.

“Tell me to stop. Right now. I will if you say it.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“You’re soaked,” he growls, lips hovering over mine. “Is that for me, baby?”

I nod, breath caught in my throat.

“Say it.”

“It’s for you,” I gasp. “Only you.”

That’s all it takes.

Koa presses two fingers against me, slipping them beneath the fabric and groaning when he finds how ready I am.

His thumb circles my clit in slow, punishing spirals while he kisses me deep and filthy and hungry.

I grind against his hand, desperate and shaking, and he holds me tighter, murmuring low, filthy encouragement in my ear.

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