Page 13 of Toxic

"Gracin," he says, his lips so close they graze the shell of my ear. "My name isGracin."

Then his mouthcoversmine.

Iamundone.

The kiss is unlike any other I’ve had in my life. I’d never known such a delicate touch could come from such a big,brutalman.

It’s like realizing I have been doing it wrong for years. Like all the touches and fumbling backseat trysts and Vic’s brutal lovemaking have been . . . wrong, and this is what a kiss is supposedtobe.

Soft.

God, his lips are soft. Surprisingly so considering how cruel and ferocious he seems on theoutside.

I’m learning he is nothing like heseems.

It makes me crave more, need more, and he must sense my growing, clawing desperation, because his lips part and his tongue sweeps forward, dominating me in the most welcome way. I open underneath the first stroke and moan with thesecond.

The gauze and implements I’m holding tumble to the floor with a clatter that I ignore. The nurses next door are too far away to hear the sound. In that second, I couldn’t care less if they were standing there watching. All my mental capacity focuses on the tender play of his mouth over mine. The hot, wet heat of him that is more explicit than anything I’ve ever seen or done before. It lights me from the inside out, turning everything molten andloose.

After a moment or an eternity, he pulls back. My eyes blink dazedly open, and I tremble against him as need roars up in a relentless rogue wave tinged with guilt and shame.Still, my breath catches in my throat when I study his face. It’s the first time I’ve been close enough to see the gold ring of color around his vividgreeneyes.

I wish he would bend and put his lips to mineagain.

What kind of person wants more from a man like him? What kind of woman aches for another kiss from acriminal?

Me.

Iwantmore.

I wantitall.

I want itrighthere.

Again. And again. Andagain.

I think of all the nights I’ve spent underneath Vic’s pumping body, all the times my pleasure was used as a weapon, all the times pleasure turned to pain and then numbness. I remember what he made me do only hours before and how my power, my agency was torn from me against my will. I think of all of that, and now I want more of Gracin’s brand of forbidden. I want it for the way it makes me feel alive for the first time in years. For the way pleasure is my own again. The way my body feels my ownagain.

So, I twine my hands around his neck, and Ikisshim.

It must have surprised him because he makes a sound against my mouth, and it takes a few seconds for his body to catch up with mine. I like that I’ve thrown him off balance. I like that I have the power to shock him, make him wantme.Me.

His hungry hands are no longer gentle, no longer hesitant. They constrict around my waist until there isn’t a breath of room between our two bodies. Until there’s no denying the hot, hard length of him against my stomach or the wet heat pooling between my legs, scenting the airaroundus.

My fingers move over the buzzed length of his hair. The soft, silken rasp of it against my palms causes gooseflesh to cover my arms, and a deep, rumbling sound reverberates in the back of his throat. I’ve never heard anything so sexy in my life. I repeat the movement with my hands and scrape my nails along his scalp, and something in him snaps. I almost swear I can hear his controlbreaking.

Then he’s shoving me against the wall, and the nonexistent space between us folds in on itself, a black hole of heat and want. He’s so close it’s as if he's trying to make himself a part of me, which sends a fresh set of shivers dancing along my spine,spidersoft.

The prison jumpsuit and my nurse’s scrubs are practically a whisper of material combined, making it so I can feel everything. When I don’t protest the move, he nudges a leg between mine and then knocks them open. Arms free because his weight is holding me against the wall, he grips my knees and hoists me up, aligning his hardness against my softness, causing me to cry out againsthislips.

He replaces his lips with his hands to stifle the sounds I can’t control. His eyes on mine, ever watchful, he uses the hand covering my lips to guide my face to the side, then his mouth does things to my neck and ear that make the hand covering my mouth absolutely necessary. Even so, my moans and cries echo throughout thesmallroom.

As though he’s reading my mind, Gracin’s lips come to the shell of my ear. He whispers, “They could walk in at any second and see just what a dirty girl you are.” He emphasizes his words with a slow thrust of his hips. I swear I can feel every ridge, every vein in his cock as it drags along the seamofme.

I don’t respond—it’d be pointless with the hand covering my mouth, but I do respond in other ways. The scent of my arousal grows stronger, and I know my scrubs must be wet. Shame burns my cheeks a violent red at the thought of my arousal being there for Gracin to see. To feel if he can’t already. Breathy, choked cries emanate from my throat no matter how hard I try to swallow them back. My mind oscillates between the thought of the officers walking in and the hard cock between my legs, the combination a volatile, eroticstimulant.

I should pushhimaway.

A good personwould.