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The urge was too great. In one swift motion, I scooped her up, tossing her onto the bed. She gave a light squeal, the sound somewhere between surprise and elation. My heart was pounding so loud I swore she could hear it as I loomed over her.
Without hesitation, I crashed onto her, my body pressed against hers, my lips finding the delicate curve of her neck. Each kiss was like a brand, declaring my territory. She tilted her head, offering me more skin to claim, her breaths coming in shallow and rapid.
"You're mine," I growled between kisses, moving to her collarbone and tracing a path downward. The weight of the sentiment wasn't lost on either of us. "All mine."
She arched her back, pressing herself against me even more, her fingers tangled in my hair. "Yes," she breathed, her voice a mix of submission and fire.
We were a knot of limbs and lips, each touch and caress more urgent than the last. My hands roamed her body freely, staking my claim over every inch of her. Her responses to my advances were primal, her nails digging into my back, urging me closer.
Suddenly, she flipped us, straddling me with a smug expression that screamed victory. "You think you're the only one who can play this game?" she teased, her fingers tracing patterns over my chest, igniting trails of fire wherever they touched.
I smirked, grabbing her waist and pulling her down for another bruising kiss. "I never said that," I mumbled against her lips. "But two can play, sweetheart."
We were lost in each other, the world outside forgotten. There were no doubts, no ex-fiancés, just us, and the magnetic pull between us.
I stared down at Paisley, the dim room illuminated by the soft glow of the candles scattered about. My fingers traced the neckline of her dress, each movement deliberate and measured. I watched her eyes, heavy with want, reflecting the same fire that was burning within me.
"Damn," I whispered, my voice raw and filled with barely suppressed desire. "I want to see you, all of you."
She looked at me, a challenge evident in her gaze. "Then what's stopping you?"
That was all I needed to hear. Slowly, I pulled down the thin straps of her dress, my fingers brushing against the soft skin of her shoulders, making her shiver. My breathing grew heavier as her dress slipped down, revealing the swell of her breasts, taut and perfect in the dim light.
"Fuck," I groaned, unable to stop myself. "You're fucking perfect." My fingers traced the curve of her breasts, and she let out a soft whimper.
She looked at me, her eyes dark and stormy. "Austin," she whispered, her voice filled with want.
Unable to resist, I leaned down, taking a peaked nub into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue. The taste of her skin, the feeling of her body arching into mine, was intoxicating. She gasped, her fingers digging into my back, her nails leaving burning trails on my skin.
The air between us was thick with tension, every touch, every glance filled with unspoken promises and raw, primal desire. I moved to her other breast, bestowing it with the same attention, making her moan my name.
She suddenly pulled me up, capturing my lips with hers. The kiss was hot, urgent, our tongues battling for dominance. I could feel the heat of her body, the rhythm of her heart, and it made me want her even more.
"Paisley," I murmured, trailing kisses down her neck, my hands exploring her body. "I want you so damn much."
She looked at me, her eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and fire. "Then take me," she whispered, her voice filled with promise.
The weight of her words, the intensity of her gaze, had me pulling back for a moment, needing to catch my breath. The raw desire between us was undeniable, but I didn't want to rush this, not when it meant so much.
I looked into her eyes, needing her to understand. "I want to, trust me. But I want it to be perfect, for both of us."
She smiled, pulling me closer, her fingers playing with the hem of my shirt. "Who said it wouldn't be?"
The challenge in her voice, the spark in her eyes, had me groaning, the desire between us palpable. With a swift motion, I pulled off my shirt, her fingers tracing the lines of my chest, making me shiver.
She looked up at me, her eyes filled with mischief. "Seems like I'm not the only one who's been working out."
I smiled, pulling her close. "You have no idea."
My hands had a mind of their own, every touch, every caress fueled by the sheer intensity of our connection. My mouth was still busy lavishing attention on her breasts, but my hand had already started its journey downwards.
"Shit," I murmured, the feel of her skin setting my very soul on fire. It felt like every inch of her had been sculpted just for me.
She arched her back, urging me on, her hands clutching at my hair. Her soft, whimpered moans were music to my ears. When my hand reached the hem of her dress, I slowly pushed it upwards, giving her thighs the same attention I'd given her upper body.
I felt her tense beneath me. "Austin," she murmured, her voice coming out in a breathy moan. "Please."
She didn't have to tell me twice. My hand slid further up her thigh until I felt the soft fabric of her underwear. Even through the material, I could feel the heat of her, the wetness that told me she wanted me just as badly as I wanted her.
