Page 100 of A Win-Win Situation
The air crackles with tension as our bodies remain locked in proximity, the invisible boundary between us blurring with each passing moment.
Scratch that. There are no boundaries.
He presses his hips to me and I feel?—
Oh, shit.
Thisis turning him on.
My hips push forward of their own accord, and I curse myself as Lucas returns my movement with a smile because now he knows I’m turned on, too.
His hand moves up to grasp the back of my neck, his fingers digging into my skin.
"Is that so?" I can feel his lips brushing against my ear, and I know I should push him away, but I can't. My body is responding to him, and no matter how hard I try, I can't resist it.
"Yes," I whisper as an answer.
Just friends.
Just friends.
Just. Friends.
His hand continues its movement from my neck to my hair, tangling his fingers in the strands and pulling my head back, forcing me to look up at him.
"You belong to me, Leora. It’s in our agreement," he declares with raw desire. His eyes darken, revealing a side of him I've never fully seen before—but oh, how I’ve dreamed of it.
My breath catches in my throat, anticipation and apprehension filling the air. The intensity of his touch and the commanding authority in his voice sends a rush of heat through my veins. I’m on fire. As much as I want to deny it, there's a part of me that craves his dominance, and longs to surrender to his power. I’ve known this for a while—I knew it in Paris, and I threw myself at him, wishing for this response, but he didn’t want me.
"Youtold me we were only friends.Youdenied me. You don't get to claim me or control me," I assert.
"I didn’t mean it."
An amused laugh escapes from my throat. "Well, Lucas, it seems you have a lot of catching up to do if you think you can just flip the switch like that," I respond, raising an eyebrow.
His eyes flicker between mine, and he takes a deep breath before he speaks again. "I never flipped the switch, it was always on for you."
"You’re not making any sense."
He presses himself into me even harder, making a point. "I mean, I. Want.You."
I feel hiswantfor me, and I want to believe him, I really do, but what if this is a test?
"Andyouwant me, too," he continues, his voice husky and filled with raw honesty.
Is it that obvious? I can feel the heat rising through my body, most prominently between my legs, and I’m probably dripping at each and every word that leaves his tongue.
He leans down again, leveling his gaze to mine, so close that our lips almost touch.
I shake my head and say, "I was drunk."
He tsks. "No more lying." His grip on my hair tightens, a spark of both challenge and longing flickering in his eyes. The charged energy between us becomes almost tangible.
His eyes roam my entire face and they land on my lips. His chest is heaving and the look in his gaze could make any woman fall to her knees. But before I get the chance to say anything, he lets out a breath muttering, "Fuck it," and then his lips crash down on mine.
His kiss is rough and demanding—almost punishing. I'm caught off guard for a moment, but then I give in. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as our kiss deepens.
He slows the kiss, teasing my lips, and sweeps his tongue into my mouth in a dance, and I follow his every leading step. My hips are rocking against his—I can’t help it, and I earn myself a groan that sends a surge of pleasure through me.
