Page 132 of The Bronze Garza

“Then why?” Here I thought he came to give me the “one last time” that I’ve been begging him for via text all week.

“To ask you what you want.”

“I wantthis,” I say without hesitation, pressing myself against him. “I want you on me,insideme. I want to get drunk on you, lose myself in you.”

“And what else?”

“I-I don’t understand...”

“What do you want, Lyra?” He sounds almost frustrated. “Fromme.”

Oh. “It doesn’t matter, does it? You can’t give it to me.”

“Tell me.”

Turning my face to his palm on my cheek, I sink my teeth into his flesh like a woman obsessed. “I want to be with you always,” I tell him. “I want to be yours. I want your love and your heart. I want all of you all the time. I want your hard-earned smiles and your cold care. I want to share your miserable, broody, unconventional life with you. I want to be the one that makes you happy. I want to be theonlyone you need, ever. I want you to let me love you. I want you to fall—”

In the next breath, I’m on my back again and his mouth is on mine. He kisses me wildly, deeply, madly. Hands gripping my face, body hard on mine. Fierce meets fervor, and together we writhe and groan until we’re both ablaze.

With one hand, he tugs up my skirt and my legs part wider for him, my hips rolling. Then his fingers are at the apex, petting me over the cotton material. But petting isn’t what I want right now. I want his big bronze cock inside me, buried deep, thrusting hard. So I reach down between us, fumbling blindly for his belt buckle.

Two fingers shift my panties aside, before plunging into my soaking wet heat, curving and uncurving in the most delicious way, making me moan into his mouth.

By the time I get his pants undone, I’m so close to the edge I’m trembling. But I don’t want to come without him inside. My best orgasms are when he’s deep inside me, with my walls cinching around his shaft like a vice.

Snaking my hand inside his boxers, I wrap my fingers around his length and his heat permeates. He’s so hard for me, venous, pulsing.

“Give methis,” I beg into his mouth, squeezing him. “Please.”

He breaks the kiss and nips along my jawline. “You’ll have to be quiet.”

“Okay, Okay,” I agree, nodding eagerly. “Please. I’m begging.”

Withdrawing his fingers, he shoves his pants and boxers down his hips, then brings a hand up to cover my mouth right before he drives into me.

My scream dies into his palm. And I’m so full. So gratifyingly full. I feel so complete in this moment that I could die happily.

He rocks into me, smoothly, rhythmically, hotly.

Even with his hand over my mouth, I’m apparently still too loud, because he dips his head to whisper against my cheek, “Shh.”

But I can’t control how I’m feeling or the muffled words that are leaving me. It’s impossible. When this man touches me, I become someone else. Like a shapeshifter. Shifting from human to a rabid lioness. Uninhibited and uncontrollable.

As my body hums and rattles like a kettle right before it explodes into a steaming whistle, I dig my nails into his skin and brace for the impact. In seconds, my orgasm whips and whirls through me like a tornado. With nowhere to send my screams, I sink my teeth into his palm and let the intense sensations flood me.

Torin fucks me without pause. With deep, relentless thrusts. And it’s not long before he’s dropping his head and sinking his teeth into my shoulder as he stiffens and spasms above me.

After, Ilayhalf-draped across his chest with a contented smile. The anxiety that’d been thrumming under my skin all week has fled, leaving me calm and relaxed.

“How much longer?” I ask after a while. “Before I’m safe again, that is.”

“Soon,” he assures me.

“Did you tell Dad to spare me the details?”

“Yeah.”

Figured. I’ve been straddling the line of wanting to know what’s going on andnotwanting to know.