Page 93 of When the Storm Breaks
Mine.
His lips drag lower, finding the exact spot where the man’s fingers curled against my bare skin. His tongue slides across it, slow and intimate, like he’s erasing the touch.
“No one else,” he growls against my skin in a broken rasp. “Only me.”
I watch him.
I don’t even blink.
I’m scared if I close my eyes, even for a second, this will all go away.
My back meets the desk, and Haiyden crowds into my space. His kiss turns hungrier, rougher.
One hand drifts lower, fingers tracing my neck, my collarbone, before sliding beneath the thin strap of my dress.
He continues the descent, and in one swift movement, he pinches my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The sound that escapes me is involuntary—a loud, breathless squeal, chased by a moan he swallows with a wicked smile.
His lips curve against mine, teasing. Taunting.
I chase the kiss, our teeth clashing as we devour each other. His hands roam with a mix of aggression and admiration, mapping my body like he’s staking a claim.
His fingers slide around my hips, squeezing the curve of my ass, pulling me closer.
A sharp yelp slips out, and I feel the smug twitch of his lips before he presses them to my throat.
His hands dip lower, fingers sliding up my bare thighs, finding the hem of my dress and lifting it—just enough to expose me.
I hear his breath catch. A low curse rumbles from his throat.
He exhales sharply, almost like a laugh.
“You didn’t wear panties.”
His voice is low. Accusatory.Filthy.
I bite my lip, a slow smile curling at the edges. “Seemed like a good idea.”
His fingers dig into my thighs. His breathing is heavy. Controlled, but barely.
“Your bare pussy was out.”
His voice is gritted, wrecked.
“You sat across the bar. All night. Watching me like that.”
His fingers move slowly, barely pressing where I need them most.
“Have you been wet for me all night, Calla?”
A strangled sound escapes me as he strokes through my slick folds, drawing it out. “Yes.”
Haiyden groans, frustration and restraint warring in his voice. His lips ghost against my throat, his stubble scraping over the sensitive skin.
He finds my collarbone. My shoulder.
And he bites me again.
A gasp rips from me. My legs tremble. His tongue sweeps over the imprints, soothing, but it only makes the growing heat worse.
