Page 25 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

I gasp, instinctively pushing at his chest, but the moment my fingers meet the heat of his skin, my resolveshatters.

The bondslamsinto me, roaring through my veins, burning like fire in my blood.

Hefeelsit too.

His breath stutters against my lips, and then—hedevoursme. His tongue sweeps into my mouth,demanding, his griptighteninglike he's afraid I'll pull away.

But I don't.

Ican't.

I arch into him, my hands sliding up his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. His growl vibrates through me as his gripfirms, lifting me with effortless strength.

My legs wrap around him,instinct, need, surrender.

We hit the wall, the cool surface a shock against my fevered skin. He groans, pressing his forehead to mine, his hands roaming—possessive, unrelenting. His fingers skim under my shirt, dragging over bare skin, setting meablaze.

"Fuck," he rasps, his controlfraying.

I pull him down into another kiss, fierce, punishing. His response is instant—his handseverywhere, lifting my shirt, tossing it aside without care.

His lips blaze a path down my throat, his tongue flicking over the dip of my collarbone before trailing lower. He palms my breast through lace, then yanks my bra down, his mouth replacing his fingers,tongue swirling, teeth teasing—ruining me.

I gasp, my head falling back against the wall as pleasure crashes over me in waves, sharp and dizzying.

I wantmore.

My hands slide down his torso, over the ridges of muscle, nails dragging just enough to make him hiss through his teeth. I reach for the hem of his shirt, but he beats me to it, yanking it over his head in one fluid motion.

My breathcatches.

The sight of him—his broad chest, the firm lines of his stomach, the muscles flexing beneath inked skin—istoo much.

He lookswild.

Untamed.

His hands grip my thighs again, hoisting me higher, his hips grinding against mine, the frictionblinding. My head spins, my bodyburns, the bond roaring between us, demanding we close the last bit of space.

"Tell me you want this," he rasps, his voice wrecked, his forehead pressed to mine. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

I meet his gaze, my nails digging into his shoulders, my breath coming too fast, too shallow.

"I don't want you to stop," I whisper.

The moment Adrian presses me into the mattress, his weight solid against me, I know there's no turning back.

A sharp inhale, his silver eyes darkening as they sweep over me.

"Beautiful," he mutters, his voice thick with something almost reverent.

Then his mouth ison me.

Heat engulfs me as his tongue flicks over my nipple, teasing, testing. His teeth graze sensitive skin, and I gasp, my fingers threading into his hair,pullingwhen he sucks deep, his grip tightening around my waist.

Pleasure coils inside me, sharp and demanding. I press my thighs together, desperate for relief, but he notices.

His low chuckle iswicked.

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