Page 123 of Volatile Obsessions

“You can’t—” I started, but he held a firm hand up, popping my mouth closed.

“I can, and I will. Unless you express a desire to keep him alive—for whatever the reason may be—I’m dragging that motherfucker to hell with my bare hands.”

All the air just about left my lungs.

That malevolence, the possessively-fueled growl of his voice...

My God, I was suddenly so turned on.

I can’t explain it and I probably sound crazy for admitting such a thing, but I’d gone from downright depleted, to the most aroused I’d ever felt in my entire life, at the flip of a switch.

Whether he sensed it or not, we fell silent yet again. I think we were both processing, yet they were two completely different things.

He understood me.

And I finally understood him.

I truly did.

Whatever this thing between us was, it was as real as he’d sworn, and it was all the more real now, after I’d laid my soul bare to him.

* * *

We parkedup at the beach as expected, closer to the pier. It was darker here, more secluded at this hour.

Away from all the boisterous night life.

The minutes continued to tick by in silence and I wasn’t sure how much more I could tolerate. It was stifling, brimming with fierce sexual tension pent up from weeks upon weeks of repression.

I felt every bit of it pulsating between my thighs, through my veins, in my head.

My fucking heart.

“Wanna go for a walk?” I suggested, hoping to get us out of the damned car for a little while.

But Rome shook his head and turned toward me, eyes ablaze. “No,” he rasped. “I need those lips on mine.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice.

I was unbuckling my seatbelt and climbing into his lap faster than either one of us could blink. The second my mouth crashed into his, that was it.

It was pure chaos.

That primal sense of need was so intensely magnified, there wasn’t anything that could rip us apart.

We were drowning in a rabid clusterfuck of emotions, drowning so damn deep the windows began fogging out around us. Each kiss was more feverish than the last; desperate, impatient, hungered.

And none were enough.

I both needed and wanted more, needed and wanted all of him, my hands shaking as I fumbled to loosen the waistband of his basketball shorts.

I was so far gone, I didn’t even register him restraining me until my arms were clasped behind my back and his hand snaked into my hair, pulling me flush against him.

“We need to stop,” he growled against my neck, teeth lightly grazing my skin, “or I’m going to eat you alive.”

Yes. God, yes.

“Do it,” I coaxed purposefully, whimpering when he tugged my head back with force.

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