Page 104 of When Hearts Collide

Closing my eyes, I inhale the scent of wet earth and saltiness in the air.

The mercurial moods of the great nature. Much like the man who has stolen my heart.

This reminds me of the day we met, when I stared at his lonely silhouette, his face tipped toward the stormy skies, letting the rain wash over him, his lips curving in a bittersweet smile. I remember my heart seizing, a visceral pain stabbing me in the chest at the haunted loneliness in his imposing frame, the way every atom in my body clamored toward him, wanting to chase away the darkness in his soul, to see him smile, unburdened and untethered.

Unbothered by the wetness cloaking my skin, soaking my clothes, I step inside the abandoned building, which is only a shell of cement walls and steel frames. I know he’ll eventually find me, then I’ll—

A hand clamps over my mouth as a muscular arm ensnares my waist, lifting me high in the air.

My biological response automatically kicks in and I dig my nails into the hand over my mouth, my teeth biting at the fingers I can reach, my elbows shoving backward, landing on the hard slabs of his muscles.

I hear a faint oomph from under his breath and my nostrils fill with the familiar scent of woody citrus.

“Stop fighting, my little lark.” A deep rasp followed by another grunt when I elbow him once more.

A sharp pinch slices through me when his teeth clamp over the sensitive whorl of my ear.

“Give up,” he mutters.

He unleashes another bite. “Give up.” On me.

The words are unsaid but hang between us, morbid like the blade of the guillotine moments before it’s used.

But my body doesn’t want to stop. I want to show him I can overpower him and absorb every tendril of his darkness. I want him to know I’m a fighter and I can destroy his mental enemies for him. And so, I buck against him, my elbow connecting with his abs again, this time harder, stronger, and he winces. His arm loosens around my waist and his hand dislodges from over my mouth.

Spinning around, I face him, noting his shocked eyes, his mouth parted in an anguished groan, and I shove him with all my strength, backing him toward the wall.

“Never!” I scream as I push him again. “I’m a fighter, Ryland Anderson, and you can’t beat me.”

I give him another hard shove and he lands against the cement wall beside the door. His chest moves up and down rapidly as he stares at me advancing toward him. His eyes turn into molten iron, scorching and flaring.

“I’ll never give up on you, on us.”

With that, I hurl myself on top of him, his hands automatically catching my hips, and I slam my lips on his.

She bites me, my ferocious little lark, her fingers clawing the back of my neck, and I let out a hiss of pleasurable pain as she soothes her bite marks with soft suctions.

Every nerve in my body wakes up as I become a slave to sensations. Feeling the storm raging around us and having the woman of my dreams fighting for me have effectively murdered the remnants of my common sense.

The monster inside me awakens, the bottomless dark hole threatening to swallow her whole, and a low growl rips from my lips.

I can’t think. I can’t speak. I can only feel the basest impulses driving my every movement. The need to conquer. The need to dominate. The need to decimate.

My teeth collide with hers in a war of dominance and her fight feeds my bloodlust in a way I’ve never experienced before. The chains binding me to reality snap and clatter to the ground.

I spin her around, pinning her against the wall as my tongue dives into her mouth, sweeping through her intoxicating sweet taste, my brand of addiction, a unique high tailored for me.

Millie scratches my back in her hasty attempt to take off my dress shirt. She lets out a moan as my teeth rake over the sensitive spot where her ear meets her neck and with a roar, I yank my shirt off my body, sending a few buttons pinging off the cold floors.

The storm rages on, befitting the turmoil overtaking me. The gentleman inside me dissipates into smoke and the caveman hiding within steps to the front and center.

With a guttural growl, I set her on the ground and render her immobile against the wall with my body weight. One rough yank later, her wrap dress pools at her feet. She stares at me, her tits glistening with rainwater, heaving like the water nymph who changed my life two years ago. My jaw clenches as my eyes devour her seductive figure, the creamy skin, her soft belly, curvy hips, and that scrap of black lace hiding the tightest little pussy I’ve ever felt.

I take off my jeans and underwear and stand before her, suspended in this strange alternate universe where she and I, two fighters with scars over our souls, stare each other down. A violent burst of lightning streaks across the skies, flooding the space with a flash of white light, and the crackle of thunder following echoes within the walls.

Her eyes are glazed, the alluring blues in her irises nowhere to be seen. Our chests heave in unison and a sharp energy sizzles up my spine, jolting the clamoring heart behind my rib cage, spreading to my entire body.

Another flash of lightning blinds the room, and she hurls herself at me as we come together.

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