Page 183 of Midnights
“Thank you?” I manage, but it comes out shaky and more like a question.
His lips twitch, but that doesn't stop his fingers that are currently grazing my neck. Every inch of me he touches comes alive, tingling with a heat so sharp I feel it everywhere.
“You’re also dangerous.”
His voice is rough and dark, and now his fingers are making their way down my arm, leaving a shiver in their wake.
I laugh, shaking my head even as my body leans toward him. “That’s rich coming from you.” Trying desperately to sound casual. But his touch scrambles every thought I have. “If anyone’s dangerous here, it’s you.”
His lips are on mine, stealing the breath right out of me, swallowing my gasp like he owns it.Thank. Fucking. God.
He tastes exactly like I remember, intoxicating with that faint woodsy bite that’s unmistakably him. This isn’t like before. This isn’t a kiss meant to tease. It’s a goddamn war.
His tongue parts my lips, tangling with mine in a kiss so deep, so devastating, it burns right through me. A groan slips free, and the moment it does, his grip tightens. His hands slide into my hair, tilting my head back to take more. And I let him.
The dress. The party. The world outside. All of it fades. All that’s left is him.
His mouth, his hands, his body pressing into mine like he wants to bury himself so deep I’ll never get him out again.
I feel his hands dragging down my sides, firm and possessive, like he’s staking his claim inch by inch, and I feel every scorching second of it.
A small noise slips from me, a desperate sound that only makes him kiss me harder, like he’s been starving for this.
His grip tightens at my hips, hauling me against him, andoh, fuck. The thick, hard length of him that's pressing against my stomach is undeniable, and it only fuels the fire. My fingers fist his shirt, yanking him closer. My nails dig in just to see if I can break that impossible control of his.
I want to see him lose it. I want him to snap.
I grind against him, and the sound he makes in response is filthy enough to send feeling rolling straight between my thighs.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I’m drenched.
Aching.
Utterly wrecked.
He breaks the kiss, and I nearly whimper at the distance. Thank God his hands are still on me, digging into my hips, keeping me right where he wants me.
The look on his face is a promise and a warning all at once. “You drive me insane, you know that?”
His voice is a husky whisper, raw and drenched in need. His hands start to glide up my back, and I can feel his rough fingers skimming my bare skin, leaving wreckage in their wake.
I swallow hard. My head is spinning and my body is screaming for more.
And just when I think I find my breath again, he takes it from me. His lips crash into mine, hungrier this time, and there's no hesitation. His fingers twist into my hair, deepening the kiss, dragging me under with him. The dominance in his touch ignites something dark and reckless inside me. I can't even help the gasp that comes out of me as I arch into him.
His other hand slides upward, but it's slow enough to be pure torture. His fingertips tease along my ribs, brushing dangerously close to the edge of my breast, and my breath stills.
His thumb traces lazy, devastating circles over my skin. Each pass edges closer building the tension growing in me, and I honestly wouldn’t be surprised at this point if I was wet enough that I was dripping down my legs.
“Please,” I beg. Not even sure what I'm begging for.
“Tell me to stop.”
The words rumble against my lips, dark and dangerous.
His mouth hovers just above mine, so close I can feel every ragged breath. I don’t answer. I can’t. The words won’t come because they’d be a lie. I don’t want him to stop, not tonight. Not when every touch feels like it’s unraveling something inside me that I didn’t even know was there.
