Page 38 of Leather & Lies

His growl of satisfaction vibrates through my bones. “Oh, such a good fucking girl.”

His fingers slide into my panties, and oh god, I’m already so wet for him. So ready. He groans against my throat.

“All this for me?” His touch is expert, knowing exactly how to work me. “You’re drenched, little hellcat. Been thinking about this all morning, haven’t you? About my hands on you? Inside you?”

I can’t answer, can’t tell him I’ve been thinking about this for weeks, not hours. I can barely breathe as he circles my clit withdevastating intent. My hips buck against his hand, trying to get more pressure, more friction, more everything.

“That’s it.” His other hand palms my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers. “Take what you need. Show me how badly you want it.”

The sensation is too much. I’m climbing higher, faster than I ever have before. My head falls back against his shoulder as tension coils tighter in my core.

“Please.” I don’t even know what I’m begging for anymore. “Jackson, please.”

“Come for me.” His voice is pure sin. “Let me feel you fall apart.”

Lightning flashes, thunder crashes, and I shatter.

His arms tighten around me as I come apart, holding me together as pleasure rocks through my body. For a moment, there’s nothing but sensation—his mouth on my neck, his hands on my skin, his solid presence anchoring me through the storm.

When I can breathe again, he turns me to face him. The heat in his eyes makes me shiver.

“Beautiful.” His voice is rough as he backs me toward the narrow cot in the corner. “But I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

My legs hit the edge of the mattress. “Jackson?—”

“Shhh.” He follows me down, covering my body with his. “Let me have you, little hellcat.”

It should sound like a command. Instead, there’s something close to reverence in his voice. His mouth claims mine again, but this kiss is different—deeper, hungrier. Like he’s trying to devour my very essence.

I should resist. Should push him away. But my hands work at his belt, desperate to feel his skin on mine.

He breaks the kiss to strip off his shirt, and oh god, all that golden skin and hard muscle. My hands explore greedily,mapping the ridges of his abs, the broad planes of his chest. When my nails scrape his nipples, his sharp inhale is my victory.

“Dangerous woman.” But there’s heat in his voice, not anger. He captures my hands, pinning them above my head. “My turn.”

What follows is exquisite torture. He takes his time, using mouth and hands to learn every inch of me. Each touch is perfectly calculated to drive me higher, make me burn hotter. When he finally slides into me, we both groan at the perfect fit.

“Mine.” The word is a growl against my throat as he starts to move. “Say it.”

I shake my head, defiant even now. He snaps his hips harder, hitting that spot that makes me see stars.

“Say it.”

“Please.” The word escapes on a moan. “Jackson, please.”

He laughs softly. “Close enough. For now.”

Every thrust drives me higher, closer to the edge. His control is slipping—I can feel it in the tremor of his arms, the roughness of his breath.

“Let go.” His voice is wrecked. “Come for me again, little hellcat. Let me feel you.”

This time when I shatter, he follows me over the edge, his weight pinning me down, his harsh breaths against my neck, the thunder of our hearts.

Slowly, reality filters back in. The storm still howls outside, but in here, something has shifted. Changed.

Jackson rolls to his side, taking his weight off me but keeping me tucked against him. His hand traces idle patterns on my hip, surprisingly gentle.

“That was—” I start, then stop. I don’t have words for what that was.

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