Page 74 of Until You Break

“This time, you don’t get to leave,” I murmur, my voice rough, edged with a possessive fury that feels like fire in my veins. “You run, I’ll find you. You fight, I’ll fuck you ‘til the only word you know is my name. You’re mine, Aria. Always have been.”

She tilts her head, her lips curving into that dangerous, beautiful smile. “Took me a while, but I finally realized… I don’twant to run anymore.” Her voice drops, a dark gleam in her eyes as she looks up at me. “I want what’s mine.”

“Then come and take it,” I whisper, daring her.

She stands there, her chest heaving, blood smeared on her arms and her clothes, looking like a fucking nightmare made flesh—and my perfect dream. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted and everything I knew she was beneath all the bullshit she tried to hide behind.

Without hesitation, she launches herself at me, her legs wrapping around my waist, her arms around my neck as her lips crash against mine. It’s not soft. It’s not sweet. It’s teeth and desperation and a hunger that feels like it could consume us both.

Her nails rake against my scalp as she pulls me closer, like she’s trying to crawl inside me, and fuck if I don’t want the same. My hands grip her thighs, squeezing the softness I’ve craved, the warmth I’ve missed, and I spin us around, slamming her back against the hood of the nearest car.

The metallic clang echoes in the garage, but she doesn’t flinch—no, she laughs, dark and breathless, her head tipping back as she looks up at me with that dangerous gleam in her eyes.

“Fuck,” I mutter against her lips, pulling back just enough to look at her, to see the fire in her eyes, the blood still streaked on her skin like a badge of honor. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?”

She grins, her fingers threading through my hair as she tugs me closer. “Perfect for you, maybe,” she says, breathless. “We’re both too fucked up for anyone else.”

My hands grip the soft flesh of her thighs, spreading her wide as I lean over her, my lips brushing against her ear. Her breath catches, and I feel her shiver beneath me, her hands gripping my shoulders as I pin her to the hood of the car.

I kiss her again, hard and deep, pouring every ounce of frustration, desire, and obsession into it. She moans into my mouth, her nails digging into my shoulders, and it only spurs me on. My hands roam over her body, gripping, squeezing, leaving no inch untouched.

“Dominic,” she gasps, her voice breathless, and fuck, it’s the best thing I’ve ever heard. “Please…”

“Say it,” I growl, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. “Say what I want to hear, Aria.”

Her lips part, her eyes blazing with defiance and surrender all at once. “Yours,” she whispers, her voice trembling but sure. “I’ve always been yours.”

“Damn right you are,” I mutter against her mouth. “And I’m yours, Little Sinner. Every fucked-up, ruined piece of me. It’s all yours.”

Fuck, I can breathe again. This is where we’re meant to be—together, tangled in the chaos we’ve created, owning it, owning each other.

And fuck if I’m ever letting her go again.

Chapter forty-eight

His Sinner

His words wrap aroundme like a vice, tightening until I can’t breathe, but I don’t want to. I don’t need air; I need him.

I pull him closer, my fingers tangling in his hair, my body arching against his as I kiss him again. I kiss him like I’m trying to claim every part of him, like I’m trying to make up for five years of silence and pain.

His grip on my thighs tightens, his fingers digging into my skin with a bruising possession that makes my head spin. The cool metal of the car hood bites against my back, grounding me, contrasting sharply with the heat radiating from Dominic’s body.

He’s everywhere—his scent, his touch, his voice—filling every part of me that’s been hollow and aching for years. I gasp against his mouth, my fingers digging into the muscles of his back, pulling him closer, anchoring him to me. His pierced tongue slides against mine, a clash of heat and hunger.

I swear I can feel the years of tension, of distance, melting away with every stroke.

“You don’t get to take that back,” he says. “You don’t get to say you’re mine and then fucking run again.”

“I’m in this,” I whisper, my voice steady. “I’m not running anymore.”

He leans down, his forehead pressing against mine, our breaths mingling as his hands slide up my thighs, sinking into the softness of my hips.

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice raw. “Because I don’t think I could survive losing you again.”

My chest tightens at his words, and I pull him closer, needing to feel him, to anchor myself to the only thing that’s ever felt real.

“You won’t,” I say softly, my voice trembling. “You won’t lose me, Dominic. I’m yours.”

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