Page 98

His hand tightens and pulls my jaw open, his stare locked on my mouth.
He always does this.
Forces me to submit to what he wants.
Teases me by controlling me while also giving me everything I need.
And although I love the way he leads this dance, I fight him all the same.
When I bite down on the tip of his thumb, a noise rattles up his throat and through his chest, a soft masculine growl that he makes in response to pain.
“You sure as hell can’t do that, killer.”
Still, he doesn’t try to pull away the harder I bite, he only stares at where my teeth are locked down on him, pure, angry lust rolling behind his amber eyes.
“And I sure as hell can’t kiss you.”
Yet that’s exactly what he does.
Just a quick flex of his hand and my mouth is open, our lips hovering together for just a brief second before he snaps his leash and his tongue dives into my mouth to slide against mine, his body moving to trap me in place as his hand shifts to hold my head in place.
I know better than to fight him. Not that I want to. This kiss is the first real breath I’ve taken in ten long,punishingyears.
It’s not the first we’ve had. Not after what happened at the engagement party. But it’s the first where it’sjustus.
Our souls laid bare.
Our hearts naked.
Our emotions so scraped and raw that we’re bleeding for each other.
And it’s violent, this kiss.
Feral.
Such a complete loss of sense and control that all I want to do is strip him of his clothes, ride his body and mark him with my nails down his skin. I want toownhim...and let him own me.
I’m not alone in that thought.
Every last bit of restraint Ezra had is gone, and his hand fists the front of my shirt to pull me forward.
His mouth continues its erotic assault as I’m dragged up to kneel on the mattress, our bodies moving together until his posture mirrors mine.
Damn it, he’s so much larger than me that I feel tiny in comparison, our chests and the tops of our thighs pressed together, the hard ridge of his erection a warning and a promise against my stomach.
Ezra breaks the kiss, his fingers grasping my hair at the base of my skull to force my head back. His lips and teeth and tongue trail down my neck, biting, licking, kissing.
I can barely speak beneath the subtle threat of pain in the way he loves me.
“There should be a rule about this.”
“There is,” he breathes against my skin, his teeth catching the soft spot at my neck and shoulder that makes me moan.
“Then what are we doing?”
“Breaking it.”
Ezra tugs my shirt up my body, my arms lifting so he can pull it away entirely and toss it off the bed.