Page 117 of California Wild

Her fingers clutched at his back, her nails digging in. She was losing it—messy, flushed, eyes glassy with heat and something deeper, something aching.

“Jesse—” Her voice cracked. It shook.

He grabbed her face in one hand, kissed her again—rough, deep, devouring—his mouth bruising hers, his other hand still anchored to her hip like he was afraid she’d vanish between breaths.

Then he pulled back, just enough to see her. Really see her.

Her lips were swollen, her breath uneven, her pupils blown wide. The green in her eyes was glassy with heat and grief and something he didn’t deserve.

Love.

Fuck.

“Say it,” Jesse growled, his breath hot against her lips. “Say you’re mine.”

She blinked up at him, that split second of hesitation hitting him like a goddamn knife.

But then—

“I’m yours,” she whispered.

And that was it.

His control shattered.

A low, broken noise tore from his chest as his fingers tangled in her hair, his body driving harder against hers, raw and unfiltered. He kissed her like he was starved, like he’d been holding back six weeks of agony, six weeks of silence, of missing her so bad it hurt to breathe.

“Only ever mine,” he rasped against her throat, dragging his mouth down her neck, biting, claiming. “No one else touches you. No one else even fucking looks at you.”

Before she could speak, before she could blink, he flipped her—fast, fluid—pulling her on top of him, her thighs spreading across his hips like she belonged there.

Because she did.

His hands locked around her waist, guiding her down with steady force, fitting them together in one rough thrust that had both of them gasping.

Hayley’s hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging in.

“Jesse—”

“Ride me,” he ordered, voice low and deadly. “Take what you need, baby. You missed this. I know you did. Show me.”

She shivered, heat blooming across her chest, her eyes wide, lips parted, and then—she moved.

Slow at first. Testing. Rocking. Teasing.

Jesse groaned, head falling back as her body rolled against his, all fire and velvet and fucking heaven. His hands gripped her tighter, anchoring her to him, like if she got too far, he might lose his mind.

“Just like that,” he growled, dragging one hand up her spine to the back of her neck. “Goddamn, you ride me like you were made for it. You wanna scream for me, rockstar?”

She moaned, her breath catching, her pace faltering as she leaned down and crushed her mouth to his—hungry, messy, desperate.

Jesse let her have control for a second. Just long enough for her to break herself open on him.

And then he took it back.

He snapped his hips up, driving into her in hard, perfect thrusts that had her falling apart in his hands.

“Fuck, Jesse—” Her voice cracked, her nails raking down his chest, her head thrown back.

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