Page 186 of Primal

Blood blooms between us.

Her tongue follows, licking it away—slow, hot, and filthy.

Her hand slides between us, fumbling for the hem of my sweats.

Fuck—I might actually die if I don’t get inside her soon.

“No.” I set her down, pinning her with a look. “You first.”

Her fingers reach for the button on her jeans. Those eyes don’t leave mine.

She does it slow. Wants me ruined by it.

Denim slips past her hips, drags down those perfect thighs, catching at the knees like her body can’t stand to be bare.

And fuck—

The scent of her hits me.

My mouth waters. My control goes razor-thin.

She’s trembling—not with fear. With need. With the weight of my stare. And I haven’t even touched her yet.

I haul her up. Let her cling to me as I cross the room.

One sweep clears the desk—pills, glasses, some camp crap Max made. All of it hits the floor.

She lands on the edge—legs dangling, breath stuttering. Eyes wide. Blank.

As if she’s gone elsewhere—back on that altar.

My grip loosens. “Still with me?”

Her lashes flick up. A shaky nod.

Good. I’ll make it count. Every fucking second.

I tug off her sneakers. Drag her jeans the rest of the way down.

Her thighs tense. Try to snap shut.

I shove them wider. My pulse hammers, every muscle locked like I’m bracing for a hit.

Her head falls back.

I stroke my fingers down her cunt—slick, swollen, perfect—still covered by that black lace.

A fucking sin.

Her breath goes choppy. A flicker of eyelids. The catch of a whine in the back of her throat.

“Is this for me?” I rasp, thumb dragging over soaked lace. “You get off knowing I’m watching?”

A shuddering sigh. “Maybe it’s what I do now that you’ve stopped.”

My jaw ticks. “I never fucking stopped. You just couldn’t see me anymore.”

I tear the thin barrier down the middle. Shove two fingers inside her. Tight. Wet. Fucking unreal. She clamps down like she doesn’t want to let go.