NATALIA
It’s not about my pride. Not about my reservations. Heck, not even if I die from this.
I was burning from the inside out. My chest still felt tight, constricted by the remnants of torn fabric and whatever heat had been bubbling in me since that damned drink.
I gasped when I felt him suddenly kissing my neck, nipping at the site where I should be marked. My fingers slipped into his hair, tugging it not to pull him away but to push him further. I couldn’t care less if he can’t truly mark me.
“Talia…” he muttered, desperate and wrecked. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
The leather seat creaked beneath us as I purposely grind myself to him. I could feel the steering wheel just barely touching my back. It was tight, clumsy, and barely enough space, but I didn’t care. I w
