Emma:
Everything inside me coils tight as a spring when he says it — like my body is already answering before my mouth can catch up.
His lips crash back into mine, but this kiss isn’t just hungry. It’s possession.
He kisses me like he wants to memorize every sound I make, like he wants to mark me from the inside out. His hands slide up my sides, slow and deliberate, thumb brushing the underside of my breast — not touching, not claiming, but close enough that I arch without meaning to.
He pulls back, breath sharp and ragged, forehead pressed to mine.
“Look at me.”
I do. Because I couldn’t not if I tried.
His eyes are dark, pupils blown, that soft restraint he’d been holding shredded into pieces.
“You listen,” he murmurs, voice molten. “You answer. You’re honest. And that means I’m g
