Page 59 of Menace in Vegas

"You want me, sweetheart?" His voice is rough, desperate, and wrecked.

I shudder, unable to answer.

He chuckles darkly.

"You’re gonna have to say it. I wanna hear those pretty little words fall from your lips."

"P-Please," I whimper after a beat, hating myself.

He hums.

"Not enough." His hand grips my hip, firm and demanding. “You know what I wanna hear, Allie.”

"C-Connor?—"

"Say it."

His voice is low, all growl and hunger.“Tell me you want me.”

I dig my nails into his back, dragging him closer.

"I want you,” I breathe. “I need you."

His eyes go feral. His breathing turns ragged.

“Good girl.”

He tears the clothing from my body, leaving me bare beneath him.

My hands shake as I strip him.

And then there’s nothing between us. Just heat, hunger, desperation.

“I need to see you,” he rasps.

He leans back, his gaze devouring every inch of me.

For once, I don’t cover myself.

I let him look.

Let him see everything.

Judging by the way his breath hitches and his jaw clenches, he likes what he sees.

A thrill of power blooms inside me.

“Fuck, Allie,” he rasps. “You’re fucking stunning.”

I swallow hard, my cheeks burning.

“T-thanks.”

I gesture at his sculpted, godlike body. “So are you,” I mutter, then want to die from embarrassment.

He chuckles but his gaze grows serious.

There’s something in the way he looks at me — something raw and reverent.

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