Page 35 of Penn

That’s all it takes and I see the moment in Penn’s expression where he decides to throw all caution to the wind. His mouth once again claims mine as his hands go to my jeans, fingers working the button and zipper with maddening precision. I shift to help him, pushing against his hoodie again until it’s bunched up, exposing abs sculpted from years of dedicated work. My fingertips trace the heat of his skin, his grip on me tightening.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank the hoodie over his head. It comes off along with the T-shirt underneath, and he tosses them to the floor. I barely have a second to admire the perfection of his body before he’s on me again, lips moving on mine like he’s trying to imprint himself on me.

“Penn…” His name is a whisper, half moan, half plea, and I don’t even know what I’m asking for.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he demands.

I cup his face, my thumb brushing along the edge of his jaw. “I just want us both to feel good.” I respond softly, but there’s no hesitation. No doubt. “I trust you.”

His eyes search mine, something wild and dark burning there. “This is gonna be a mistake,” he murmurs, but he’s already leaning in again, his lips brushing mine like he can’t stop himself.

“Probably,” I whisper back, but I don’t care.

Because right now, this feels inevitable.

And there’s no stopping it.

His hands are back at my jeans, tugging them down, and I lift my hips to help. The scrape of denim against my skin makes me shiver, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his hands as they skim up my thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

We’re past the point of no return now.

And neither of us wants to stop.

CHAPTER 12

Penn

I’m fucking lostin a blur of sensation, my thoughts stripped away as quickly as Mila’s clothing. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, holding me like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go, and goddamn if I don’t feel the same.

This shouldn’t be happening. I shouldn’t be craving her, desperate to have her beneath me when just minutes ago, we were tearing each other apart. But logic isn’t driving me right now—emotion is, a reckless storm of anger, fear, and an unbearable longing I never saw coming.

I never stood a chance against this.

I drag Mila’s sweater off, carelessly throwing it to the tiled floor. My eyes roam all over her, noting her skin is flushed and luminous beneath my palms. She’s trembling—not from fear, but urgency—and when I slide my hands upward, grazing the delicate curve of her waist, I feel her sharp inhale. My heart slams so violently in my chest, I wonder if she can feel it. If she knows she’s undoing me piece by piece.

My mouth claims hers again in a rough kiss, tongues tangling, the taste of her intoxicating. Mila arches against my chest, her body warm and pliant as I guide her off the countertop and down to the kitchen floor. Neither of us pauses. Stopping would mean thinking, and I can’t afford to think.

Thinking would make me realize just how dangerously vulnerable she makes me feel. How fragile this carefully constructed life of mine has become, shattered by a woman who both frustrates and captivates me.

We crash onto the kitchen rug, a mess of limbs and desperation. I pin her beneath me, my cock hard against her thigh as I devour her throat, her collarbone, and finally, her breasts, heaving beneath my mouth. Her fingers tug at my hair, sharp and insistent, keeping me right there, in the moment. My hands explore every curve, every inch of her body, like a man possessed.

She says my name—a plea or a warning, I’m not sure—and it hits me deep. My mind spins wildly as I trail kisses lower, tasting her skin, every gasp she makes dragging me further away from reason.

Mila shifts beneath me, her thighs parting, inviting me closer, and I can feel her heartbeat racing beneath my lips. She’s beautiful, stunningly so. I knew it before, but now, bathed in morning sunlight filtering through the kitchen windows, she’s exquisite. Her dark hair fans across the rug, eyes stormy and filled with need, lips parted as if she’s still trying to make sense of this too.

Don’t overthink it. Just feel.

I strip away the last barriers between us, clothes scattered like abandoned defenses. There’s nothing left to hide behind. I pause at the sight of her laid bare before me—full breasts, silky skin and that sweet spot right between her legs that has my mouth watering.

And suddenly, it’s terrifyingly clear—I don’t just want her. I need her.

My mouth blazes a trail over her collarbone, across a peaked nipple, along her rib cage, which causes her to giggle and fuck me to hell, I actually smile. I continue my descent until I reach the junction between her thighs and force her legs apart. Mila’s body quivers, a soft gasp escaping as my mouth claims her with a ferocity that seems untamable.

“Penn,” she gasps as I tease and taste every inch of her pussy, letting my tongue circle her clit. Her hips undulate, seeking more friction, and her movements becoming erratic. Those delicate fingers dig into my hair, pull hard, and the pain only makes me lash at her harder.

“Penn,” she whispers again, and I lift my head to look up her body. She stares at me, hair wild and eyes locked onto mine, as if afraid I might stop this madness.

I wait for her to say something but instead, she shocks me by putting her hand on top of my head and pushing me back down to feast. Her little display of control is hot as fuck and I lose myself between her legs, nipping and sucking and circling, until Mila writhes and begs, and then she explodes. Her legs clamp onto the sides of my head as her back arches off the kitchen floor and her cry of pleasure is about the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.

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