Page 67 of Cowboy Bull's Promise

I licked my lips.

“What’s for breakfast?” I asked, voice low, teasing.

“Toaster waffles,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching.

But his tone? That was pure sex.

I met his gaze head-on.

“I can eat those cold.”

Then I let the towel drop.

No hesitation.

No apology.

The air between us shifted instantly, thickening, crackling, charged.

His eyes dropped to my body, and the growl that tore out of him was pure animal.

“Arliss,” he said, voice wrecked. “You sure you want this? Because once I start, I’m not stopping until you’re dripping my cum, Mate.”

I stepped forward, bare and shameless, until there was nothing but a breath of space between us.

“Is that a threat? Because I thought I was already yours,” I whispered. “You just haven’t ruined me properly yet.”

And with that, the leash snapped.

He dropped the clothes, grabbed my waist, and lifted me like I weighed nothing.

My legs wrapped around him, wet skin sliding against hot muscle, and his mouth crashed into mine—hungry, wild, devouring.

He slammed me gently against the wall, pressing into me with his full weight, and I could feel exactly how much he wanted me.

Hard.

Huge.

Throbbing.

I moaned into his mouth as Kian dragged his tongue along mine, coaxing, teasing, owning every gasp he pulled from me.

His hands gripped my thighs, my ass, firm and commanding, like he couldn’t decide what to squeeze first, and he didn’t plan on choosing.

“You taste like wildflowers and sin,” he growled against my throat, voice rough and reverent.

Then he bit down gently on the same place he’d marked the night before, his teeth scraping that tender skin, and I swear to God, I almost shattered.

Right there.

A wicked grin curled his lips as he dropped to his knees, hands still wrapped around me like I was his personal altar.

With nothing but brute strength, he lifted me higher, settling my legs over his broad shoulders like I weighed nothing.

“W-what are you?—”

His eyes locked on mine, dark and molten.

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