Page 93 of Only With You

“I want you, Julianna. I’mdesperatefor you.”

There are a lot of things that have shocked me tonight, but hearing those gruff words leave his lips and the desperation that seeps from them stuns me. Landon is many things, but a liar is not one of them.

It’s not just his words that seal how badly he wants me, it’s his erection. It’s hard, thick, and massive. It’s tenting his joggers, straining against the material.

My imagination runs wild, wondering how big it really is.

“Just one night.” His hand slips underneath the sweater, pulling me out of my thoughts. His fingers brush the waistbandof my shorts, faintly caressing the skin above it. Goosebumps scatter, each one arousing a wildfire to ignite on my skin. “I’ll get what I want and I’ll treat you the way you’ve always fantasised about.”

I swallow hard. “And what do you want?”

“To taste you.” His gravelly voice possesses my body, and the arousal soaking my thong smears my thighs.

My lips part at his admission and the electric current holding us together combusts, making the energy between us feel galvanizing and exhilarating.

“One night,” he rasps in a desperate plea, grabbing the hem of my sweater.

“This could end disastrously.”

“I don’t care.” Landon dismisses my comment.

“I don’t think it’ll work out for me.”

“I don’t care. It’ll work for me.”

“Did I not make myself clear? I don’t think it’ll work forme,” I argue, but my resolve has crumbled so bad, I clench my thighs to feel something, anything, but it’s not enough.

I need more.

“And did I not?” Landon cocks a brow. “I said, I. Don’t. Care. It’ll work forme.” He enunciates each word, leaving no room for me to argue.

That has no right sounding as hot as it did.

All my fight has withered away. I don’t have it in me to argue anymore.

It’s just a one-time thing. It’ll mean nothing.

“One night.” I concede.

27

JULIANNA

“I wantyou to beg for it first.” His tantalizing words feel like a splash of cold water, but it’s not enough to cool my smoldering hot body.

I glare and he holds my stare. “No.”

He eyes my sweater, staring at it with aversion. “Begor I’m leaving.”

This takes me to the day he came back and agreed to tutor me. I’d find the situation comical, if only I wasn’t in desperate need for him to touch me.

I stand my ground, but his heavy gaze scorches me. The longer the silence extends, the thicker the atmosphere grows and the wetter I get. I’m so turned on, my nipples are hard and straining against my bra, begging to be played with.

Swallowing my pride, I draw out a shaky breath. “Please, touch me.”

The smug arrogance slips from his face and morphs into something daunting, something darker.

“Not like that. Say,‘Landon, please touch me, because I’m a needy slut with a needy pussy.’Say it,” he demands, his rough words a stark contrast to the way he’s touching me, but something tells me he’s trying to hold back.

---