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“Stop acting like I’m some stupid teenager who can’t make her own decisions. I am a woman, Weston. One who’s telling you right now that I want this, that I want you.”
Fuck.
The growl of need rumbles in my chest, but still, I fight every fiber of my being that wants to take her. “Don’t do this, Beauty. You don’t want to see what’ll be unleashed if you push me.”
She leans up on her tiptoes, inching closer despite my fingers still digging into her chin, and feathers her lips over mine. “What if I do?”
Sweet bloody hell.
Any thought of putting her off, of pushing her away, of keeping this from going down the road so dangerous, so dark, that it absolutely should not be attempted, flies out the window the moment her lips touch mine.
Red-hot need surges through me, an explosion of uncontrollable yearning that I can’t fight or ignore any longer.
I wrap my arms around her and tug her up against me fully, crushing my mouth to hers, inhaling her scent, and finally tasting the beautiful woman in my arms.
She moans and grinds against me, rubbing her stomach along my cock. Her hands release my shirt, and they graze across my neck and bury themselves in the hair at my nape.
Nails bite into my skin, signaling her rising desperation that I can’t deny matches my own.
I can’t remember it ever being like this—a bone-deep desire so all-consuming that it’s equally thrilling and terrifying. Fear rushes through my veins as thick as the need does. That I’ll hurt her. That I’ll fail at giving her what she frantically searches for. That even if I manage to, I’ll fail at protecting her from what’s coming.
Still, my cock aches to be buried inside her, and that fear gets pushed aside in favor of forcing her back two steps, until her ass hits the table and she gasps in surprise. I capture the sound with another deep kiss and glide my tongue along the seam of her mouth, demanding entry.
She parts for me, welcoming me in, spreading her legs so I can settle between them and align my length along the heat radiating from between her thighs.
I grind against her, my cock aligned with that perfect spot to amp her up, and she moans, low and sultry, filling the vast space and echoing off all the wood and metal in the library.
What the hell are you doing?
Sealing her fate.
Sealing my own.
Going down in flames that will burn both of us.
Because Callista has unleashed something in me, something I thought I’d never feel again.
Longing.
The desire to please someone else—to please a woman, to seek and be her comfort, to experience and be the source of her joy, to feel her vibrating need and the squeeze of her hot cunt along my cock as I finally bring her ecstasy.
I want it all.
Want to give it all to her.
I slide one hand to her inner thigh and graze my fingertips up the soft skin there. She bucks at the gentle caress, then settles as I slip it up and under her tiny shorts and the thong she wears beneath them.
Slick heat greets me, and I groan against her lips, toying with her wet core lightly. “Fuck, Beauty…”
Callista pants, tugging her mouth from mine for a moment to gaze up at me with hooded eyes, long, thick, dark lashes batting at me. Keeping our gazes locked, she slides a hand down my arm, across my stomach, to cup my cock where it strains for freedom.
A muffled groan slips from my mouth, and she squeezes my cock in response. An almost loving caress I haven’t experienced in decades. My eyes roll up in the back of my head, my body trembling under her soft ministrations.
The simple touch is almost enough to send me soaring.
She rolls her hips, seeking more contact with my fingers, and despite every reason not to, to end this now, before things go too far, I oblige her, gliding her wetness up around her clit and making her buck violently against my hand.
“Fuck…”
