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Even in the shadows, she saw him swallow hard. His breathing turned rough. “You don’t know what you’re inviting.”

“I do.” She bit her lip, wishing he would just step closer, take over, give her some indication that she hadn’t totally embarrassed herself. “And I want it.”

“Baby, if you don’t put some clothes on in the next five seconds, I will fuck you hard until you cry for mercy. Spoiler alert: I won’t have any. You will wake up tomorrow sore, covered in bite marks and bruises from my fingers, marked in every way possible. You’ll be dripping of me. You’ll be smelling like me. You’ll be pushing at me to get off you. I won’t budge.” Fists clenched like he was fighting his baser instincts, he stepped back. “Last chance.”

His words only made her heart flip and her womb clench. “I don’t need it. I’m saying yes.”

“Feel how fucking hard I am for you.” He grabbed her wrist and pressed her palm to his cock.

She gasped at the pure steel under her fingers, thick and long, engorged and enflamed. She curled her fingers around his stiff length and roughly stroked him through his jeans, relishing the feel of him in her palm again after two long years. Haisley drank him in, nearly going weak in the knees. “Nash…”

He tossed his head back with a groan. “Jesus, I want you. You’re a fucking fever I never recovered from.”

Nash staggered closer, pressing her against the wall with his big body, giving off a heat so overwhelming, she felt faint. Instinctively, she looked up at him, watching him with wide eyes and shallow breaths until he gripped her hips and bent, pressing his forehead to hers. His harsh exhalations bathed her face.

“I’m burning for you, too.” Now wasn’t the time to divulge secrets between them, but in that moment, she needed him. “I never stopped.”

He looked down into her eyes, a furrow settling between his dark brows as he silently asked why the hell she’d left. His breathing picked up. Against her pussy, his cock got impossibly harder. “Baby…”

Haisley didn’t want to talk. “Kiss me.”

Nash tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled with a growl. “Give me your goddamn mouth.”

“Yes, Sir.” The words slipped out before she rose on her toes and offered him her lips, curling her fingers into his shirt and holding her breath as her heart threatened to burst from her chest.

He was on her in an instant, rough hands pulling her body against his stiff denim and stiffer cock while he covered her mouth and sank in with his plunging tongue, dominating her with one sweep.

She whimpered against him. God, she’d missed him. So many times in the last two years she’d tried to convince herself that the desire between them hadn’t been that hot, that their connection hadn’t been that deep. The second his lips seized hers, Haisley knew she’d been lying to herself. The desire was stronger, eviscerating what little self-control she had.

A wave of dizziness assailed her. Her knees wobbled, threatening to give out, as she lost herself in him, because she believed that he—and he alone—would keep her sated and safe.

He tasted like testosterone, danger, ruthless hunger…and the sweetest memories. She’d grown up hating fairy tales because even as a child, she’d been too cynical to believe in everlasting love. Her father had skipped out on her as a newborn. Her mother had been devoted to her…but she’d ultimately chosen the danger of speeding a hundred miles an hour in her boyfriend’s sports car over her young daughter. And her aunt had never done more than seen to her food, clothing, and shelter. By high school, guys had seen her as a challenge, a conquest to brag about to the other like-minded douches. In college, she’d taken control and slept with hot frat boys and football players, having zero expectations beyond her own gratification. She’d resigned herself to believing that’s all “love” was…

Until Nash.

Touching him again was like basking in golden sunlight after two years in freezing rain. Haisley clung to him, wanting the moment to last forever. They couldn’t go back in time and fix the rough patches and half-truths between them. She was too afraid to zip forward, to the moment when their passion was spent and Nash would, no doubt, want to talk. But now was sublime. Now was everything. She intended to lose herself here, where she felt safe, happy, adored, and protected in a way no man had ever made her feel.

Suddenly, he wrenched from her. Haisley opened her mouth to protest. He couldn’t leave her. She’d burn alive.

But instead of retreating or putting professional distance between them, he cradled her breast and dipped his head, panting as he plucked her nipple in his inferno of a mouth. He pulled hard on the tip, sucking until she hissed in pleasure. God, she could feel his tongue tugging on every nerve ending between there and her clit, now throbbing for his attention.

As if he could read her mind, he shoved his hand between her legs, roughly covering her mound and delving his fingers between her folds where she needed his touch most. “You’re so fucking wet, baby. So juicy. I swear I’ve thought of nothing but you since New Year’s Eve. I can’t stop.”

He poured his words, sweet like melted sugar, all over her. She craved more. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” he vowed against her skin, his lips burning a trail up to her ear. “Do you hear me? I’m feeling this sweet pussy because it’s mine. It’s always been mine.”

“Yes.”

“It’s always going to be mine. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

“Haisley…” he growled in warning. “You know what I am to you.”

“Sir. Yes.” She nodded helplessly. “Sir.”

“Good.” He nipped at her lobe as his fingers swirled insistently over her swollen clit. “You’re close, aren’t you?”