Page 236 of Hate Mates

"To get you back," I confess. "To fix this. Fixus. Make you mine again.”

Her eyes grow so wide that the deep blue hue brightens. “Me?”

I touch her cheek, allowing my fingers to glide across her smooth skin. “You.” My voice drops to a near-whisper.

Something shifts in her expression—a softening around her serpentine eyes, a slight parting of her sensual lips. "Cristiano," she breathes my name, and it sounds like both a question and a surrender. “It’s been six years.”

“I don’t care how long it’s been. It could be a hundred years and I would still fight to get you back. That’s what I’m going to do. Fight. Every day. For as long as it takes."

I take the final step toward her, eliminating the last barrier of space between us. The heat of her body calls to mine—familiar territory my soul recognizes even after all this time apart.

In her eyes, I see the reflection of my hunger, mixed with the complicated tangle of hurt, hope, and need that defines us now.

"I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, even if you fight me,” I add.

She bites back a weary smile. “You’re not going to give me a choice?”

“No. Because you were always mine. Nothing will ever change that.”

I can't help myself any longer. I pull her in for a kiss and savor the taste of her sweet lips on mine.

A taste I plan to savor forever.

Chapter Four

PIPER

My hands rest against his chest, feeling the strong, rapid beat of his heart beneath my fingertips as he kisses me.

Six years of confusion and anger swirl inside me like a tempest, but desire and longing overpower every feeling that’s not Cristiano Moretti.

He deepens the kiss, each thrust of his tongue awakening nerve endings I thought had gone dormant years ago.

My resolve disintegrates like ash in the wind, and the heat of his body so close to mine sends warmth spiraling through me, breaking down the walls I've built since he left.

I should be focused on Lana. On the danger we're in. On anything but the way Cristiano is making me feel. But the promise in his words and his kiss makes me believe in us again. Believe inhim.

My body remembers his. My heart recognizes its other half.

"Piper," he groans against my mouth, my name a prayer and a plea.

I answer by tugging at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against mine. He breaks the kiss long enough to pull it over his head, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest and abdomen.He's more defined than he was at twenty-two—harder, stronger, sexier.

The shirt falls to the floor, then he catches my face with one hand and pulls on my t-shirt with the other. "If you don’t tell me to stop now, I’m going to bend you over and fuck you right here against this table.”

His crass words send a shiver through my soul, and the last thread of my resistance snaps. Despite everything I should and shouldn't be doing, I want nothing more than him. It’s been so long since I felt this way that I already know what I’m going to say.

“Don’t stop,” I tell him, and his eyes darken to the deep, rich color of sin.

“Perfect.”

Cristiano takes off my t-shirt, exposing my breasts to the air, then slides my yoga pants and panties down my legs. When I’m completely naked, his gaze roams over me, taking me in with raw desire.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, reverence in his voice. "Even more beautiful than I remembered. You have no idea how many times I've dreamed of this." His lips trail from my mouth to my jaw, then down my throat.

Something primal ignites within me and I arch up against him, seeking more contact, more pressure, more of everything he can give me.

My hands explore the broad expanse of his back, relearning the topography of muscle and sinew, discovering new territories marked by time and experience.

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