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I pull back just enough to look at her. “Yeah?”

She nods. “It doesn’t feel possessive. Just… safe.”

That lands hard in my chest. Like she just gave me something I didn’t even know I needed to hear.

I cup her face with both hands and kiss her again, slower this time. Deeper. She melts into me like we’ve got nowhere else to be, nothing else that matters but this.

And right now, she’s right.

Her lips are on mine again, warm and soft and utterly addictive. She shifts in my lap, grinding down ever so slightly and—fuck—I groan into her mouth as heat punches through me like a wave.

I’ve been trying to keep it slow. Gentle. Thoughtful.

But the way she moves against me, the way she tastes, the way she looks at me like I’m the only thing in her world—I lose it.

I stand in one smooth motion, taking her with me, her legs instinctively wrapping around my waist, arms clinging to my shoulders. She gasps, half-surprised, half-laughing, but I don’t stop kissing her. I carry her down the hallway, our mouths fused, her fingers tugging at my hair like she can’t get me close enough.

By the time we reach the bedroom, I’m desperate.

I lay her down on the bed but she pulls me with her, rolling us until I’m under her, her thighs straddling my hips again, her lips tracing down my jaw, sucking lightly at my neck.

“Laney,” I groan, my hands gripping her hips, sliding beneath the soft cotton of my flannel shirt that she’s still wearing—barely.

She sits up, straddling me, eyes dark with heat, cheeks flushed, breathing fast.

“Off,” she says simply, tugging at the hem of the shirt. “I need skin.”

I help her strip it off in a rush, tossing it somewhere—anywhere—and my hands are already on her, sliding up her sides, over her breasts, worshipping every inch.

Her nails rake across my chest down to the waistband of my jeans, and she’s fumbling with the button as I sit up and crush my mouth to hers again, wild and open and hungry.

Clothes come off fast, like they’re in our way—my shirt, her panties, my jeans—ripped, yanked, discarded without ceremony. Her laugh mixes with my groan when I almost fall off the bed trying to kick my pants the rest of the way off, but then she’s on top of me again and there’s nothing funny anymore—just heat. Need.

I flip her beneath me, covering her with my body, kissing down her chest, over her stomach, dragging my teeth gently across her hip just to feel her shiver.

She’s gasping, writhing, her legs wrapping tight around me as I settle between them. Every brush of skin is electric. Every sound she makes goes straight to my core.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” I whisper against her collarbone. “How bad I want you. You’re all I can think about, you make me want to lose control.”

Her fingers cup my jaw, pulling me back to her mouth, and when she speaks, it’s a breathless confession against my lips.

“Then take me. No more holding back, Eddie, I want all of you.”

That’s all I need.

She pulls me back down with a force that knocks the breath from my lungs—not just because of how her mouth finds mine, but because of the way she looks at me. Like she wants everything. Like she can take everything I’ve been holding back.

And suddenly I can’t hold it back anymore.

“Laney,” I rasp, my voice low, rougher now, right against her lips. “If we do this… if I let go the way I want to… I need to know you’re good with it.”

She blinks up at me, breath heaving, cheeks flushed, her legs still locked around my hips. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I want to pin you down,” I say, dragging my hand up her thigh slowly, purposefully. “I want to take control. I want to own every sound you make. But only if you want that too.”

Her breath catches, her eyes open wide—not scared, not uncertain. Aroused. Her lips part and she nods slowly, then says, “I want that. I want you. All of you.”

That’s all I need.