Page 25 of Falling for the Firefighter
His fingers trail up my side, slow and certain, slipping beneath my shirt, rough palms grazing bare skin. Not tentative—testing. Measuring what I’ll take. How far I’ll let him go.
“I see you, Josephine.” His words rasp against my throat. “I see the part of you that doesn’t want soft or careful. You needto be handled. You need to be fucked like it matters. Like it consumes. You need a man who won’t hold back.”
His breath drags against my cheek, heat and promise. His lips brush the corner of mine, his voice low and certain, like a vow made in shadows.
“And I will. I’ll show you what it means to be wanted without apology. Fucked like it’s survival. Like I’ve waited my whole life for the permission your body gave me the second you stopped pretending you didn’t crave this.”
My breath catches, but I don’t pull away.
“You want to be touched like a storm. Felt in the aftermath. You want to be shaken down to your bones and held there, right at the edge.”
His other hand catches the back of my neck, fisting just enough to make me tilt my head, forcing my gaze to his.
“I’ll take you there,” he growls, eyes burning into mine. “Again and again. Until you can’t look at me without remembering how it felt to let go. To let me take control. This isn’t about lust. It’s possession. And baby—” he leans in, voice a threat and a promise “—you’re mine now.”
His thumb brushes my lower lip. My knees nearly buckle. His other hand catches the back of my neck, fisting gently, tilting my head so our eyes meet—nowhere to run, no way to hide.
“And you’ll let me because you need it. Because your body’s already made the decision your pride’s still arguing with.” He drags his mouth down the line of my jaw, lips parting just enough for his teeth to scrape skin—deliberate, claiming.
“You can’t outrun this. Not in this cabin. Not in this storm. And not from me. We’re just beginning. I’m going to fuck you again. And again. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t look at me without remembering how it felt to surrender. To beg.” His thumb brushes my lip, slow and taunting. “And don’t pretend you’re not going to beg."
His hand slides lower, palm flattening across my stomach, fingers dipping under the waistband of my pants.
“I’m not interested in weather updates. Or polite conversations. Not when I could be fucking you in every position this twelve-foot box will allow. On the table. Against the wall. With your legs over my shoulders or your face in the mattress—doesn’t matter.”
My knees tremble, but he’s already there—holding, steadying, anchoring me in place like he knew I’d fall.
Outside, thunder crashes. The wind shrieks like it wants in. The storm doesn’t terrify me—it’s the way Mac sees me.
The way he knows.
God help me, he knows.
His palm flattens against my stomach, sliding lower, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of my pants again—slow this time, torturous, possessive.
“You can tell me to stop,” he murmurs at my throat, lips grazing my pulse. “But if you don’t—if you let me keep touching you—I’m going to fuck you again.”
My breath catches.
My thighs part.
I don’t say stop.
And he doesn’t.
Not even close.
Because once isn’t enough. Not after the way I came for him. Not after the way I broke open.
This next kiss is nothing like the first. Where that was fury and fire, this is slow, deliberate heat. His lips move against mine with intention, coaxing rather than claiming. My hands find his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my palms.
I take my time exploring newly revealed skin with curious fingers and appreciative murmurs.
What follows is a revelation—hours of discovery and pleasure that melt the remaining ice between us. The storm outside fades to nothing as we create our own weather system of sighs, whispers, and breathless pleas.
My vision blurs. My body pulses with aftershocks, twitching beneath him as he groans low, dark, and satisfied—before following me into that same abyss.
“From the second you glared up at me on that sidewalk, I imagined this,” he growls. “Shoving my cock so deep you forget your own name. Making you beg like you’re doing now.”
