Page 88 of Too Far

“Letmehelpyou.”

The offer sounds more like a strained, desperate plea.

Nodding, I lift both hands and let Decker pull me to my feet.

He wraps his arms around me, but his hold isn’t tight enough.

“Decker.” I nuzzle against his chest, wishing I could meld my body and his, and inhale the scent of amber and sea salt I’ve come to associate with my stoic, complex man.

“I’ve got you,” he promises, holding me tightly in his arms.

It’s still not enough.

“What do you need?” he whispers. His breath is warm against my ear as he breathes me in, revealing just how intensely he needs this, too.

Gulping past the fear of rejection, I tip my chin and meet his somber gaze.

“I need to get out of my head,” I confess, my heart hammering so hard against my chest it aches. The trepidation lingers, but now it’s for a completely different reason. This time, it’s mixed with a heavy dose of anticipation. “I need to stop thinking. I just want to feel.”

He inhales, his broad, defined chest rising and falling beneath my chin. His grip on me is tight, full of hesitation, as he studies me with a dark expression.

I brace for rejection, but I double down anyway, before he can come up with an excuse.

“I need to feel alive, Decker,” I whisper. I push onto tiptoes and kiss the corner of his mouth. “I need you to help me feel alive.”

He’s rigid against me, his jaw locked and his eyes hard. Then, as if a switch has been flipped, the air whooshes out of his lungs and his hands are on my face and he’s kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before.

My body lights up like a firework: a chaotic explosion that’s as beautiful as it is powerful.

He grips my face harder, his hold borderline painful.

But I relish the sensation.

I want to flourish. I want to thrive.

This is what living feels like.

It’s almost impossible to keep up with him as he ravishes my mouth with his own. He’s brutal and fervent and merciless in the way he consumes me. But I give everything I have, nipping at his bottom lip, teasing the tip of my tongue into his mouth. It’s as if, now that he’s made his decision, he can’t tamp it down or hold it back.

He tilts my face, putting me where he wants me, feeding me his tongue and groaning with every sweep.

His hands smooth over my torso, along my hips, down my ass. When he lifts me off my feet, I wrap my legs around his waist, and when his belt buckle presses right where I want him, a whimper escapes me.

He doesn’t break our kiss as he carries me out of the bathroom. He takes the long way, double-checking the lock on the bedroom door with one hand while holding me to him with the other, then stalks toward his bed.

“You’re sure?” he asks, breathless, as he stops at the foot of the mattress.

Oh no he doesn’t. I’ve suffered too much tonight to be cockblocked by Decker Crusade.

“I need to feel connected to you, and I need to come on your cock. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Chapter 39

Josephine

Helowersmeontohis bed and takes a step back. Without taking his focus off me, he rips off his shirt over his head and whips the belt off his pants.

Hating the distance between us, I tip forward and stretch a hand toward him. He steps within my reach, and when I wrap my arms around his torso, he tenses. His heart is pounding so loudly it thunders through me as I rest my cheek against his abs. I hold him tighter as he takes in long, steady breaths.