Page 147 of The Wrong Play

“You think you can leave me, darling?”

A shudder raked through me, and Jace felt it.

Of course he did.

Because Jace Thatcher didn’t just see me.

Hefeltme.

His forehead pressed against mine, his breath fanning across my lips.

“You’re mine, Riley,” he murmured, soft, but so damn sure. “Not because I own you, not because I control you, but because you are the best fucking thing that has ever happened to me. And I’m never letting you forget that.”

My chest constricted so painfully I thought I might break apart right there in his arms.

“Jace—”

“No.” His hand slid to my cheek, tilting my face up until our eyes locked again. “No running, Riley. No second-guessing me. If I sayalways, I fucking mean it.”

Something cracked open inside me—something deep, something terrifying and warm and devastating all at once.

A breath hitched in my throat, and without thinking, I kissed him again—slower this time, softer, like I was memorizing the shape of his lips, like I was imprinting the feel of him onto my skin.

Jace groaned low in his throat as his arms wrapped around me. His hands splayed across my back…his hold became an unspoken vow.

Mine.Always.

Jace kissed me again, slower, deeper, like he was trying to erase every doubt, every fear still lingering beneath my skin. Hishands were warm, steady, moving down my back, over my hips, before gripping my thighs and guiding me back onto the bed.

I let him.

Because I needed this.

I needed him.

The weight of him pressed against me, solid and familiar, as his lips traced a slow, burning path down my throat. I arched into him, my breath hitching when his teeth grazed my collarbone, when his hands roamed like he was memorizing me all over again.

“Jace…”

He hummed, the sound low and knowing, vibrating against my skin as he pushed my shirt up until I was bare beneath him. His hands skated down my stomach, his mouth following, leaving kisses that weren’t just kisses but promises—soft, reverent, possessive.

His fingers hooked into my leggings, dragging them down slowly, teasingly, until I was left in nothing but lace. His hands settled on my thighs, spreading me open, his breath hot against the sensitive skin.

“You know why I love doing this?” he murmured, his voice like warm whiskey and sin, pressing a kiss to the inside of my thigh.

I swallowed hard, my fingers tangling in the sheets as my body automatically arched for him…reached for him.

“Why?” I breathed.

He kissed higher. Too slow. Too soft. His tongue flicked out, teasing, making me whimper.

“Because you fall apart for me.” His brown eyes burned as he glanced up. “Because I can feel you. Every shiver. Every sigh. Every time you gasp my name like you can’t help it.”

And then he kissed me there.

A slow, soft press of lips, before his tongue parted me, licking through my slick folds with a lazy, devastating stroke. My breath hitched, a sharp, startled sound, and Jace made a sound of satisfaction, his hands gripping my thighs, holding me open like he wasn’t planning on letting me go anytime soon.

I was already trembling.

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