Page 110 of The Wrong Heart

My first kiss, my first hand job, my first goddamn brush with humanity.

“Just you,” I ground out, barely able to make out her hand pumping me slow and steady through the veil of darkness. But I see her eyes flash by way of ethereal moonlight, dancing with prowess, alight with desire. “Only you.”

Her lips find mine, her hand still jerking me, and our moans blend as one. “God, I love kissing you,” she sighs.

“So, kiss me,” I say back, hardly coherent, biting at her lip. “And ride me.”

Melody makes this mewling sound that causes my dick to twitch in her hand. She lets go of me to yank her underwear aside, then situates the tip of my cock at her entrance, hot and slick. It takes all of my effort not to lose it and come undone like a total fucking tool as I slip inside, only an inch. She hesitates, her fingers drifting to the hem of my t-shirt, an attempt to tug it off me.

I grab her wrists. “No.”

Her expression wilts for just a moment, a shadowy frown staring back at me through the dark… but then she nods.

An understanding.

Instead, she reaches for her own dress, pulling it up over her head until it’s discarded, and her hair falls down in champagne waves. I weave my hands behind her back to fumble with her bra clasp while she continues to tease my dick, and I swear I stiffen even more the second the lace fabric slips free and her breasts are exposed, bathed in a hint of milky moonlight.

Fuck, she’s pretty.

Melody grips the back of my head and thrusts her tits in my face as she sinks down onto my cock. I bite her nipple with a sharp grunt, causing her nails to pierce the base of my skull. “Parker…”

She grits out my name in a way no one ever has before. So defenseless. Unarmed. Melody gave me something that night in the rain when I fucked her against her shed like a goddamn animal, and I understood the value in it. It was raw and dirty, but it was precious, too. She gave me something she had only shared with one other man—her husband.

It scared the shit out of me.

But right now she’s giving me something else, and it’s more than just her body. It’s more than flesh and moans, or the way she’s taking my cock like it was fucking made for her.

She’s giving me real, genuine intimacy, a piece of her heart, and I don’t know what to do with it. It’s in the way her forehead rests against mine, her eyes pinned on me while she rises and falls in my lap with each frayed breath. It’s in the way she clings to me, her fingers curled around the nape of my neck, thumbs dusting over the skin beneath my ears.

It’s in the way she just said my name.

Normally, I’d resist vulnerability like it were poison, reacting with my own anger and venom. But I’m not angry, I’m just unfit and out of my goddamn element, so I funnel those feelings into passion instead, snaking my arms around her back, fisting her hair hard, and fucking her until she cries out.

“Ohhh, my God,” Melody moans, squeezing me tighter.

I angle my hips, thrusting upward and holding her in place, hitting a spot that makes her damn near untether. I’m not small—hell, pretty sure I’m a lot bigger than average—and she’s so fucking petite and breakable, I’m afraid I might hurt her. Tugging her head down, I grit out into her ear, “You okay?”

Her hair tickles my nose when she nods. “Feels so good,” she mutters hoarsely. “You feel so good.”

Melody grips my shoulders and straightens, throwing her head back and gyrating up and down, twirling her hips. I latch onto those hipbones, my fingertips digging in hard enough to leave little bruises behind, and I pull her to me, sucking a taut nipple into my mouth. She bounces in my lap, moans and whimpers escaping her every time she slams down, hitting that sweet spot.

Jesus Christ, I could get used to this.

“Keep making those sounds and I’m going to go fucking feral on you,” I hiss, my fingers scratching down the light layer of sweat casing her spine while hers grab fistfuls of my hair.

It feels like I’m tearing her apart, and she’s piecing me back together.

“Do it,” she says, still riding me, still taking me to the hilt. “Don’t hold back.”

A growl rattles my chest, and I pull out of her, scooping her up in my arms and throwing her backwards onto the couch. Climbing over her, I’m tempted to flip her over, make this less personal, less intimate somehow… but I don’t. My jeans and boxers hit the floor as I kick them off, her underwear following, and then we’re face-to-face, our expressions shrouded in silhouette as I situate myself between her spread thighs and push back in.

Our groans are mutual, my palms trailing up to her cheeks, cupping her more gently than I’d intended, while my thumb drags down her bottom lip.

I move in for a kiss.

Melody’s arms link around my neck, her legs crossing behind my lower back, and our mouths lock, every single piece of us hopelessly entwined. I think this is where I’m supposed to unleash—go savage on her, leave her bruised and quivering, begging for more through her fucking tears. But my hips move with deep, deliberate strokes, my tongue exploring her, more lazy than desperate, and my hands continue to cradle her face with tenderness instead of crazed urgency. There’s a power in the air, some kind of palpable charge, and when I pull back from her lips to meet her eyes, I know she feels it, too. The exact same sentiment twinkles back at me like a sky full of stars.

Our eyes continue to hold as my pace increases, thrusting into her while she holds me so fucking close, I feel like I’m suffocating and purging at the same time. Our noses knock, our lips hovering together, barely touching, breaths hot and needy. Her body tenses beneath me as I grip her face in a possessive, clingy clutch, unable to tear my gaze from hers.

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