Page 69 of Texts From My Exes
She couldn’t. Not with me.
I pressed my forehead to hers, reading her eyes like scripture, daring her to lie to me now. “You want me to stop?” My voice was ragged, dangerous.
Her pupils blew wide. Her lips parted. But no words came out.
That was all the answer I needed.
“Nod your head if I can take your shirt off,” I whispered. “Blink if you want me to keep going. Moan if you don’t want me to stop.”
She shivered. Then she moaned and nodded at the same time, breathless.
“Hurry up,” she whispered, words tumbling out. “I’m blinking, okay, I’m blinking—I’m?—”
I ripped her shirt down the middle, fabric tearing in my hands, followed by her bra. She squeaked but didn’t stop me,her hands clawing at my shoulders as I kissed down her throat, across her collarbone, lower and lower until I reached the waistband of her jeans.
“I’m going to take these off,” I warned, my voice rough, “and you aren’t coming back from this. From me. So tell me to stop if you can’t handle it.”
Her eyes locked on mine, defiant, daring me.
“Thought so.”
I unbuttoned her jeans, slid them down those long legs, and tossed them across the room. Now she was sprawled beneath me in nothing but soft underwear.
I smirked. “Nice. You didn’t even wear black for him. Enough said.”
Her fingers curled in my shirt, pulling me down. “That means nothing.”
“Oh, Harper.” I let my mouth hover just above hers. “That means you weren’t planning on him seeing you naked. You reserve the black lace for that—the one buried in the back of your drawer. Right behind the red teddy with the tags still on.”
Her gasp was sharp, scandalized. “You went through my clothes?”
I grinned. “No. I’m not a stalker. You told me to find my Christmas present last year. I went hunting.”
Her cheeks flamed. “Find anything else you liked?”
I pressed my full weight down onto her, groaning when her body arched into mine. “Oh, you have no idea what little treasures I found in that room. And now? Every single one of them is mine. Every gasp, every sound, every thought in that pretty head—mine. I want you thinking of nothing but me. My weight. My cock. The way I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”
Her breath hitched, trembling between fear and want.
I grazed her neck with my teeth, biting just enough to make her whimper. Then I stood, hauling her up with me.
“What?” she stammered. “W-what about the couch?”
I tossed her over my shoulder like she weighed nothing. “As much as I want to bend you over and take you right here, you deserve a soft bed. Not because this is our first time—” I smacked her thigh and felt her jolt— “but because I’m not gentle, Harper. And you’re going to need that headboard.”
I carried her down the hall like she was already mine, her fists pounding against my back, half-protests, half-clutching me tighter. She didn’t tell me to put her down. Not once.
Her bedroom door slammed against the wall as I shouldered it open. I tossed her onto the bed, and she bounced against the mattress with a squeak, hair fanning wild across the pillow.
“Ezra—”
“Quiet.” My shirt hit the floor. My jeans followed. “You’ve talked enough. Tonight, you don’t get to hide behind words.”
I crawled onto the bed, caging her with my body, hands pinning her wrists to the headboard. Her chest rose and fell like she was running a marathon.
“You remember what I told you?” I ground my hips against hers, the thin barrier of her underwear doing nothing to hide how badly I wanted her. “I’m not gentle.”
Her legs wrapped around me, pulling me closer. “Then stop talking and prove it.”
