Page 88 of Meet Me In The Dark

There’s nothing but the heat of his lips and the way he kisses with such hungry need, like he’s trying to undo every second we’ve spent pretending we couldstay away from each other.

It takes me a beat to catch up.

Three seconds, maybe four.

Then I’m moving.

My hands fly into his hair, twisting in the thick strands, yanking him closer and giving back everything he’s taking.

My heart slams so hard against my ribs it hurts.

In the next breath, the kiss turns from raw hunger to brutal.

His tongue sweeps into my mouth, claiming it like it’s his right.

This isn’t careful.

This isn’t sweet.

This is a collision.

Walls crumble. Boundaries collapse.

For one reckless second, I feelhimagain.

Thatman.

The one who touched me in the dark as if he owned me. The one who fucked me as if I were something precious and breakable, and then broke me anyway.

He’s here now, in the daylight, no mask, no blindfold, and he still makes me burn like I’m standing in fire.

He drives forward, hips pinning me to the wall, every hard, hot line of him pressing into me until there’s no space left to pretend with. I arch up into him, desperate to feel all of him, to close the distance we’ve been holding between us like it could keep us safe.

Just when I think I might pass out from the sheer force of it, Julian pulls his mouth away with a pained groan.

The loss is so sharp I nearly sob. “What are you doing?”

His eyes are squeezed shut. “Don’t speak, okay?”

So I don’t.

I wait.

And I wait.

“Julian—”

“I’m trying really hard to be respectful here, Celeste.”

When I lift my hand to his jaw, he finally opens his eyes and nearly burns me with the heat in them.

“Julian,” I whisper, my core aching with need. “Try being a little disrespectful.”

And with that, this unfathomable man shatters like glass.

Twenty-Six

One second, his forehead is pressed to mine; the next, I’m in the air, his hands gripping the backs of my thighs as he hauls me up.