Page 140 of Broken Pieces
I pour every jagged, fucking piece of myself into it. Every goddamn thing I’ve buried since the first time she looked at me and didn’t see a fuck-up.
She melts into me. Fingers tugging my shirt. Her breath stutters against my lips, and I tighten my hold on her waist, dragging her into me until nothing fucking exists except her mouth, her body, the way she fits against me like she’s always belonged there.
The kiss turns hungry.
Messy.
Tongues tangling.
My hand fists in her hair. I tip her head back and kiss her deeper, rougher.
She moans into my mouth, and it tears something fucking open inside me.
I break from her lips just long enough to rasp, “You don’t know what you fucking do to me.”
She looks up at me, breath catching. “Show me.”
Fuck. That word detonates inside my chest.
I walk her backwards until she’s pressed up against a car. Her gasp cuts off against my mouth when I kiss her again, harder this time. My hands are everywhere. Her neck. Her waist. Her ass.
I grab it, lift her. Her legs wrap around me, and I sit her on the hood of the car, cock pressed tight to her heat through our clothes.
I trail my lips down her throat, tasting her skin, biting hard enough to make her tremble.
“I need you,” I growl into her skin. “Right fucking now.”
“Then take me,” she whispers, voice shaking. “I’m yours.”
She’s already tugging at my shirt, fingers frantic, breath shaky.
I yank it over my head and toss it behind me.
Her eyes drop to my chest. She pauses. Takes me in. Her lips part, and I swear I feel her gaze in my fucking bones.
I reach for her hoodie, pulling it up and over her head in one motion, her shirt going with it. She’s left in a pale pink bra that barely covers her, and fuck, she’s beautiful. Flushed skin. Wide eyes.
I don’t give her time to second-guess it.
“Tell me you want this,” I rasp against her skin, voice ragged, cock already straining in my jeans.
Her hands frame my jaw, pulling my face back to hers.
“I’ve only ever wanted this.”
I groan, and crash my mouth onto hers, harder now, hungrier, tongues fighting.
She moans into me, and I swallow it, grinding against her until the heat of her burns through both layers of denim.
I need her more than I need fucking air.
My hands slide down her sides, gripping her hips, pulling her against me. I break the kiss long enough to drag her jeans down her thighs, kneeling to strip them off completely. My eyes travel up her legs, slow, worshipping.
She’s trembling. Breath coming in short, shaky bursts.
I toss her jeans aside, lean in, forehead pressed to hers.
Her hands rest against my bare chest, fingers twitching, eyes wide and glassy.
