Page 179 of His To Erase
A beat passes, and I barely hear him. “I don’t want you to leave.”
That stops me cold. My hand hovers over the box but I don’t look at him, because if I do, I’ll lose whatever hold I have left.
“Why?” I whisper. “Because you like fucking me?”
Silence.
“Because I don’t like not knowing who’s got their eyes on you when I’m not around.”
I turn slowly, realizing just how close he is, and I hate how much I need him to be. My skin burns for contact, and my body leans toward his like it knows what I won’t let myself say. But it’s so much easier to turn that ache into anger.
If I let him in—if I admit I want him like this, I’ll never survive what comes after.
“You don’t get to act like this means something,” I snap, stepping back like distance will help. “Not when you keep everything locked up like I’m the enemy.”
His eyes flick down my body, slow and unapologetic. “Funny. You didn’t seem to care what it meant when you were begging me to ruin you.”
My breath catches, and rage flickers behind my ribs. “You think that gives you the right to own me?”
He steps forward. “No. Crawling to me did that.”
His jaw flexes as his chest rises and we move at the same time. He reaches me just as I drop the box, hands tangling in my shirt, and our mouths crashing against each other.
There’s nothing gentle about it. This kiss is a fucking detonation. It’s weeks of circling each other like lit matches, waiting for something to burn. His hands are gripping my hair, and mine are clawing down his back like I’m trying to rip through skin just to feel something real.
He lifts me and slams me against the fridge, as my legs go around him. This time, when I gasp, it’s not from fury—it’s from the way he consumes me.
I’m tired of pretending I don’t want this. He tastes like danger and ruin and I’ve never wanted anything more. Whatever this is—it’s not safe, it’s not smart, and it’s already too late to turn around.
God help me.
His hand slides under my shirt, skimming my ribs, and his voice drops—wrecked against my mouth. “You don’t get to crawl to me like you did and pretend you’re not mine.”
“I never said I wasn’t,” I pant. “I just never said I was, either.”
His eyes are full of heat, and he growls. “Say it.”
I shake my head, a crooked grin breaking across my lips. “Make me.”
And he does.
This time—when he takes me, there’s nothing holding either of us back. He grabs my jaw and kisses me like he wants to take the fight out of my mouth, he spins me around so fast I gasp. His hand finds the back of my neck, shoving me down until my elbows hit the cold stone countertop.
“Stay.”
His body presses flush against my back and I’ve never wanted anything more than I want him right now. I could die and my life would be complete.
“Don’t move unless you want me to punish you for it.”
I let out a breathless, taunting laugh, just to test him. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
The sound he makes isn’t human—it’s feral. His hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back until I’m arching for him like something to be claimed, and I’m soaked, throbbing, and so fucking ready.
“You think this is funny?”
His voice is gravel and heat and every dark promise I should run from, but instead I want nothing more than for him to lose control.
“I could bend you over every surface in this goddamn cabin and it still wouldn’t be enough. I’ll ruin you until you forget what it felt like to not be mine.”
