She's mine.
Tessa...is mine.
I let the truth of that settle over me like a delicious, cooling mist. Let it burrow all the way down to my bones. Why the hell have I been holding back for so long? Why have I been fighting this?
Tessa is mine.
She's my girl.
And there's no better feeling than her small, soft body under mine. Nothing has ever sounded more right than her desperate whimpers in my ears.
Sure, I may be a big, hairy brute, but if she truly wants me... well. I can fray her at the seams. I can imprint myself on her soul; work her body into a trembling mess. Take her apart and put her back together again like the engines I work on every evening.
"Please," Tessa whimpers, her hips rocking up against mine. Chasing that hot press of contact: the rigid proof of how badly I want her
