Page 217 of Red Zone
He drops his jacket on the back of the couch and starts toward me, each step slow and deliberate, his gaze never leaving mine.
When he’s close enough, his hand comes up to brush a stray strand of hair from my cheek.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he murmurs, his thumb lingering at my jaw.
I can barely breathe.
But I manage to whisper, “Yeah?”
He leans closer, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. “You have no idea.”
And then his mouth is on mine.
This kiss is nothing like earlier, nothing like the sweet, careful way he held me by the pool.
This is rougher.
Hotter.
Like he’s been holding back for weeks, and he finally can’t anymore.
His hands slide into my hair, tilting my head so he can deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, claiming me completely.
I whimper softly, my fingers clutching at the front of his shirt as he backs me toward the couch.
“Carter,” I breathe when he finally pulls back enough to let me breathe.
But he doesn’t stop—he presses his forehead to mine, his hands dropping to my hips and gripping tight, his voice low and possessive.
“You’re mine, Lyla. You hear me? Say it.”
I nod, my breath coming in shaky gasps. “I’m yours.”
His lips curve into a dark smile, and he captures my mouth again, harder this time, his teeth grazing my bottom lip before he pulls it between his.
I let him push me back onto the couch, his body settling between my thighs as he kisses me like he can’t get enough.
When he finally pulls away, his eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them.
“You’re mine,” he whispers, his hands gripping my hips tight. “Say it again, Princess.”
I shiver at the edge in his voice, but my own comes out steady.
“I’m yours.”
His lips curve into a dark smile before he dips his head to my neck, nipping just below my ear.
“Take this off,” he murmurs, tugging at the strap of my dress.
I reach back, fingers fumbling with the zipper until the fabric slides off my shoulders, pooling at my waist.
When he sees what’s underneath—the black lace I’d chosen without thinking about him but knowing he’d love—his jaw tightens.
“You trying to kill me?”
I can’t help the small, wicked smile that slips out. “Maybe.”
He growls low in his throat, then leans forward to kiss down my neck, his hands already moving around my back to unhook my bra and toss it aside.
