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There was nothing hidden in his gaze as he drank me in, only raw, unfiltered honesty. No masks. No barriers. No secrets or lies. Just two individuals drunk on each other when they couldn’t understand it. None of this made sense, and yet my heart thrummed, the sting of tears pricking my eyes. The harsh sting of realization.
I was falling for him.
Not just him, but the complex parts. The dangerous parts. The soft parts. The obsessive, yet caring man beneath the surface.
The thought drifted through my mind, and I knew with such ferocity that I didn’t want to leave his penthouse. I couldn’t voice it—my need to stay. If he wanted to be free, I wasn’t going to hold him back, but I also didn’t want to let him go.
Manic glanced between us, watching as he worked me, and let out the most feral noise I’d ever heard. All it did was send a fire straight through my veins.
He somehow managed to maneuver us so he could lower his pants, all while pleasuring me. It was explosive, this feeling of control and desire and the overwhelming thrill of falling.
Like I had spent a lifetime searching for something that would never satisfy me, except for the man who was both dangerous and all consuming. Someone I needed to avoid, yet found myself drawn to him like starlight in a night sky. Mountains and mist and everything in between.
Once his cock sprang free, he lifted my hips, jolting me forward. I yelped and caught myself on the seat, my hair a curtain around us. It was only me and him.
Us against them.
Us against everyone.
“You’re mine.” His whisper unfurled along my mouth, his conviction a warm breeze on my lips. “Say it.”
My fingers threaded through his hair as I stared down at him, a soft smile playing on my lips. The fire in his icy-blue stare held me hostage, and in a single breath, I yielded.
“I’m yours.”
He placed a gentle, passionate kiss to my mouth, a silent confession lingering on his lips and mine. Lining himself up, he lowered me until his cock nudged my entrance.
“Now sit,” he ordered.
Slowly, so slowly, I seated myself until every inch of him was buried. The moment he slid inside, my head kicked back, both of us moaning in unison. The world narrowed and blood thrashed between my ears, my heart a wild thrum in my chest.
He filled me so deeply, I felt him everywhere.
“Move, Sutton,” he growled, digging his fingers into my hips and forcing me into action.
I tightened my grip in his hair and began to move, slow and languid at first, then quickly picked up speed. He met me, stroke for stroke and every panted exhale. Our shared breaths clashed, our bodies hot against each other, our hearts hammering beneath our ribs.
Manic wildly grunted and nipped my chin, my neck, my collarbone as I shamelessly slammed down. I moaned and savored every part of where our bodies joined.
His hands moved up and down my back, then to my breasts and down my waist, to the wet heat between my thighs. His thumb swirled over me again, and I whimpered.
Second by second, my control frayed, and I rose higher toward the peak. His hands resumed their position on my hips, my movements now wild and carefree.
Wind howled against the windows, and the sound of our arousal, our ragged breaths, stirred in the space between us. We were lost in each other, burning until nothing but ash remained.
Sweat ran down my neck, and my pussy clenched around him. Then my knees tightened, my body trembling as my release crept forward. I didn’t know who was moving more, me or him, as he rolled his hips and slammed me down by the demand of his grip. I moaned and cried and whimpered as he filled me, thrust after delicious thrust.
“Fuck. Yes, baby,” he panted. “Faster. Let me hear you.”
It was impossible for me not to fall as desire and pleasure consumed my entire body, and the moment his demand brushed the shell of my ear, I shattered.
Wholly.
Completely.
Manic followed me into euphoria as I cried his name. Our movements eased, and I collapsed against his shoulder, wondering why it felt as good as it did. It wasn’t normal to feel this way, was it? Had I lost my mind? My sanity?
He wrapped his arms around my back, burying his face into the crook of my neck and staying like that a few minutes longer. When our breathing finally slowed, and I found the courage to peel away, Manic gripped my face, turning me to him. His throat bobbed, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows.
