Page 110 of Taken By the Pack

Instead, he cups my face, his touch firm, his thumbs brushing over my cheekbones with something dangerously close to reverence.

“Ash, I?—”

His mouth crashes against mine.

The air between us ignites, sparking into something raw and consuming. His lips claim me, fierce and unrelenting, and his hands dive into my hair like he needs me closer, like he needs to feel every inch of me pressed against him.

A low sound rumbles in his chest, vibrating through me.

I clutch at his sweater, fisting the soft fabric, anchoring myself. Needing him just as much—maybe more.

He pulls back just enough, his breath hot against my lips.

“I love you.”

His voice is rough, almost guttural.

“I love you, Grace. And I am so damn sorry for what they said. I will never—never—put you in a position like that again.”

“I love you too, Ash.”

He grips my jaw, fingers pressing into my skin, and crashes his mouth to mine, and swallowing my words whole.

The world explodes.

It’s fire and hunger, sharp teeth and clashing tongues, a desperate claiming that leaves no space for hesitation. His growl vibrates through my chest, a primal sound that speaks to something buried deep inside me.

My body responds instinctively, heat flooding my veins, a whimper slipping from my lips as I clutch at him.

His hands roam—gripping, pulling, possessive. One fists in my hair, tugging just enough to make me gasp, baring my throat to him. He drags his teeth along my pulse point, his breath scorching against my skin.

“You’re mine,” he rasps, voice low, guttural, raw.

“Yes,” I gasp, nails digging into his shoulders, my body arching into him.

Something in him snaps.

He lifts me effortlessly, pressing me against the car, his body flush against mine, hard and unyielding. My legs wrap around his waist as his hips grind into me, the thick, rigid proof of his desire making me dizzy.

“Ash,” I breathe, but it’s barely a sound.

He growls again, his hands gripping my thighs, his fingers digging in as he rocks against me. The friction sends shockwaves through me, tightening the coil of need low in my belly.

“Inside,” he commands, voice dark with need.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. He yanks the door open, slides inside, pulling me with him until I’m straddling him in the back seat.

Heat engulfs us, the space too small, the air thick with the scent of desire. His hands roam my body, greedy and impatient, like he’s mapping every inch of me, memorizing me.

He yanks my dress over my head, his eyes devouring every newly exposed inch of skin.

“Perfect,” he growls, his mouth descending to my collarbone, kissing, biting, marking.

I move against him, desperate for more, desperate for him. My nails rake down his back, his answering groan sending a fresh wave of arousal through me.

“Tell me you want this,” he demands, his fingers gripping my hips, dragging me closer, harder.

I meet his gaze. My breath comes in ragged pants. “I don’t just want it.” My voice is thick. “I need it. I need you.”

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