He didn’t wait. Not for words, not for consent—though at this point, my body was screaming yes, yes, yes. His hands ripped at my shirt, yanking it over my head in one rough motion. My chest hit the cool air of the apartment, and I shivered—but not from cold. My n*****s hardened instantly under his gaze, and I could feel him smirking, enjoying it.
“You’re gorgeous,” he growled, voice rough, dangerous. “And I’ve been dying to see you like this.”
Before I could respond, his hands were on my hips again, gripping, pressing, making me bend into him. I moaned, arching, desperate for more contact. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing the heat, the weight, the domination.
He kissed me hard, his tongue sliding into my mouth while his hands roamed my body—over my breasts, al
