Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 31866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
My pulse thunders. “This,” I repeat, low.
Her eyes flick to my mouth again. “Stop acting like you don’t know what I mean.”
I give her one last out. “Riley… tell me to stop.”
She swallows. “Don’t.”
That’s all it takes.
I cup her jaw and kiss her.
The first contact is soft—barely there—like I’m tasting the question before I take the answer. Her lips part with a quiet sound that hits me straight in the gut, and then the restraint I’ve been holding for days cracks like thin ice.
I deepen the kiss.
Riley makes a small, helpless noise and leans into me, hands sliding up my chest, fingers curling into my shirt like she’s anchoring herself.
Like I’m anchoring her.
Heat rolls through me, steady and consuming. I slide my hand to the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair, and she shivers—full body, unmistakable.
Her mouth is warm. Soft. Hungry in a way that turns my thoughts into smoke.
I pull back just enough to breathe, our foreheads touching.
Her eyes are half-lidded, lips swollen.
“You okay?” I ask, voice rough.
She nods quickly. “Yes.”
“Tell me if it’s too much.”
“It’s not enough,” she whispers.
Christ.
I kiss her again, slower this time, letting it build. Letting her feel what I’m doing. Letting her feel that I’m not just taking—I'm paying attention.
Her hands slide around my neck, her fingers cool against my skin. She presses closer, and my body responds instantly, hard and sharp with want.
I force myself to keep it controlled. Keep it safe. Keep it about her.
My thumb strokes her jaw. My other hand moves down her back, palm spanning her waist. She’s small, but she feels perfect in my arms, like she was built to fit here.
She breaks the kiss to breathe, lips brushing mine with each inhale. “This is a really inconvenient time,” she murmurs.
I huff a quiet laugh against her mouth. “You’re telling me.”
“Like… bad guys. Threats. My destroyed lab.”
“Yeah.”
“And yet,” she whispers, dragging her lips along my jaw, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
My eyes close for a second. That does something to me I don’t have language for.
I turn my head and kiss the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, then the spot just below her ear. Her breath hitches, her fingers tightening in my shirt.
“Crewe,” she whispers, voice breaking.
I pause. Pull back enough to look at her.
Her pupils are blown wide. Her cheeks flushed. She looks like she’s burning from the inside out—and still, she’s steady. Present.
“Say it,” I murmur. “What do you want?”
Her gaze flickers. She’s nervous and vulnerable. Then she lifts her chin. “I want you to kiss me like you’ve been thinking about it all day.”
A low sound slips out of me before I can stop it. “I have,” I confess.
“And I want,” she continues, voice soft but brave, “to feel safe for one second without having to be strong.”
My chest tightens so hard it hurts. I pull her into my lap, careful and slow, giving her time to decide. She comes willingly, straddling me, hands braced on my shoulders like she’s afraid she might float away if she doesn’t hold on.
Her warmth sinks into me.
My hands settle at her hips, firm but restrained. “Riley,” I say, voice gone gravel. “You are safe.”
Her eyes go glossy. “Say it again,” she whispers.
“You’re safe.”
She leans down and kisses me like she believes it.
This time it’s not careful.
It’s need.
She kisses me with everything she’s been holding back—fear, adrenaline, loneliness, stubborn hope. Her mouth moves against mine, deep and wet and desperate, and I meet her, matching her rhythm, keeping her close, keeping her grounded.
I slide one hand up her spine, fingers spreading between her shoulder blades. The other cups her thigh, feeling the soft skin there, the way she trembles when I touch her like she’s not used to being handled with reverence.
She rocks against me without thinking, and my control slips another notch.
I break the kiss with a groan, pressing my forehead to hers. “Riley,” I warn, voice ragged. “If we keep going like this…”
Her breath is hot against my mouth. “Then what?”
I swallow hard. “Then I’m going to want more than I should take tonight.”
She studies me—searching, serious.
Then her fingers brush my cheek. “You’re not taking,” she whispers. “I’m choosing.”
That knocks the air out of me.
I kiss her again—slower, deeper, savoring. My hands move with purpose now: a thumb tracing the curve of her hip, fingers sliding under the hem of her hoodie just enough to feel the warmth of her skin at her waist.
She shivers, breaking the kiss with a soft gasp.
“Okay?” I ask immediately.
“Yes,” she breathes, and her hands slide into my hair, tugging gently like she’s learning what I like.
I let out a low sound, and she smiles—small and triumphant.
“That,” she murmurs, “was a very satisfying noise.”
“Don’t get cocky,” I mutter, kissing her mouth again.
“Oh, I’m absolutely getting cocky.”
I laugh—quiet, surprised—and she looks at me like she caused it. Like she’s proud she pulled it out of me.