Sawyer's lips are firm yet gentle, coaxing mine open with a practiced finesse that leaves me reeling. His tongue dances with mine, tasting of cinnamon and something quintessentially him.

I melt into him, my body aching for more of this contact, this connection. His hands roam down my sides, leaving a trail of fire everywhere they touch.

Wetness pools between my thighs, and I whimper into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Sawyer murmurs before he pulls me tight against him, “Do you know what you do to me, little girl?”

Before I can answer, he captures my lips again, his tongue swooping back into my mouth to kiss me more deeply this time.

I can taste the want in his kiss, the desire burning like a sun going supernova. His hands move from my sides to my lower back, pulling me closer till we're as pressed together as two bodies can be without becoming one.

His fingers dig into my flesh through my shirt, and I can't help but arch into him, inviting him to touch me more. I whimper when he takes the invitation, his hand slipping beneath my shirt to make contact with bare skin.

His calloused palm is warm against the small of my back and I shudder, half because it feels so damn good and half because it's Sawyer...Sawyer Blackwood, doing this to me.

"Is this...okay?" he rasps out between kisses, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes. His pupils are blown wide with desire and I know mine must mirror his own.

"Yes," I gasp out, "Yes, it's beyond okay."

He smiles then, a wolfish grin that has me thinking of wild, untamed nights under these very stars. He crushes our lips together once again and I let myself go further into him.

His hands start moving lower now, tracing the curve of my hips before gripping my thighs. He lifts me up as if I weigh nothing and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist.

My skirt rides up dangerously high from the movement and I can feel his hard length against me even through our clothes. It makes me heady with desire, knowing that I'm the one who did this to him.

"You're shaking," he whispers against my lips and indeed I am—not out of fear, but anticipation. His words are sandpaper against my heated skin, and I crave more.

"I...I..."

But he silences me with a kiss, his lips moving over mine, frying every thought in my brain. His hands explore my body in ways I've only ever dreamed of, lighting up nerve endings I didn't know existed.

"What do you want, Nora?" He breathes into my ear, his voice husky with desire.

"You," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. It feels like the biggest secret I've ever told. But it's not a secret at all. it's the truth. A truth I can no longer ignore or hide from.

Sawyer doesn’t say anything for a moment, just holds me tighter. Then he lets out a low growl that sends shivers down my spine and grinds his hips against mine—a crude but oh-so-enticing movement that has me gasping aloud.

"I’ve wanted to hear you say that from the moment I laid eyes on you," he admits hoarsely.

My heart flutters at this admission.

His mouth descends on mine again and the conversation ends there—replaced with moans and gasps and whispered promises between shared breaths. His hands are everywhere, claiming what’s his—marking me as his own.

He slips my clothes from my body until I’m standing naked before him, and then he stands there and stares at me slack-jawed.

“More beautiful than I even fucking imagined,” he rasps out as he grips his cock roughly through his pants. “Fuck, I could come just looking at you, baby.”

My heart races at his admission, and then the next thing I know, I’m in his arms again.

His lips press against mine with a fervor that sends shivers down my spine and liquid heat pooling between my thighs. His hands are everywhere, kneading my breasts, squeezing my ass, sliding over every inch of me like he's trying to memorize the feel of my naked body against his.

“God, Nora,” he pants into my ear, “I've never wanted anyone like I want you.”

The words send a thrill through me. I arch into him, whimpering when his lips close around a nipple. His hand slides down my belly, inching closer and closer to the aching space between my thighs. My hips buck against him as I plead for more.

“Please,” I whisper, my fingers tangling in his hair as he lavishes attention on my breasts. “I need...I need...”

“Shhh, darlin’,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice thick with lust. “I know what you need.”