Anna's back hit the wall beside the console table with a low thud. A groan left her lips. Jason didn't stop. He broke the kiss and dragged the t-shirt over her head.
Her movements were slow, weighted, almost resistant—but when he pulled her naked body back into his arms, she clung to him anyway. He kissed her once more, bit her lower lip as he pulled away. The low hiss sent a thread of satisfaction through him.
He stripped quickly, flinging his clothes aside. Anna leaned against the wall, watching him with shadowed eyes that seemed to hold secrets he would never be privy to.
Her hands slid up his chest, tentative, learning, and something in him locked. He caught her wrists and pushed them above her without looking at her, the motion sharp enough to feel corrective. He didn’t need her
