There I was -- in his apartment, his hands gliding slow, deliberate, across my back.
I could feel his gaze without needing to meet it -- heavy, careful, like he was weighing how much I could take before I shattered.
I kept my eyes down, pretending indifference I didn't feel, clinging to the last frayed threads of self-control. It was only our second date. He was practically a stranger.
Did that even matter anymore?
I had been taught to be careful -- to guard my body, my heart -- but none of it seemed to apply when it came to him. This man was strong, built like a wall, tall enough that every inch of him felt like a promise I wanted to break myself on.
He moved closer. I could feel his breath brush the back of my neck -- soft, coaxing.
Slowly, unbearably, I turned to him.
His eyes -- those deep, fallible blue eyes -- caught mine like a hook. And in the space of a single heartbeat, before I could summon a word, he took my mouth with his.
Not a question. Not a request. A claiming.
And God help me, I let him.
His mouth crashed onto mine -- fierce, claiming -- and I barely had time to gasp before he parted my lips, tongue sweeping inside like he owned me.
The taste of him flooded my senses, hot and reckless, and when his tongue stroked the roof of my mouth, a tremor ran through me so sharp I moaned without meaning to. My body softened instantly, shamefully, my panties dampening as need overtook hesitation.
He growled low in his throat -- a sound meant for me alone -- and seized my breast, fingers rough, unyielding. The fabric of my top gave way under his grip with a savage tear, baring my lace to the cool air and his burning gaze.
He didn't hesitate. His hand captured my jaw, tilting my face up, forcing me to meet the feral hunger in his eyes -- and then he shoved me back into the couch, following me down with the relentless weight of his body.
I whimpered, hips grinding up into him, helpless, mindless -- the tight leather of my skirt creaking under the force of my own desperate need.
My eyes slammed shut the second his hand slid up my thigh -- all thought vanishing beneath the heat of him. His fingers brushed over my panties, and I swore I could feel it in my throat, the ache blooming, raw and wild.
My back arched before I could stop it, breasts surging forward into the greedy heat of his mouth. His teeth grazed my nipple -- a sharp flick -- and I gasped so hard it broke into a whimper.
I barely registered the tearing sound of my skirt before he plunged two fingers inside me, thick and unrelenting.
"Fuck," he growled against my skin, the word cracked and broken. His fingers curled, ruthless, and the orgasm ripped out of me so fast it left me gasping, lost in him.
He was strong -- devastatingly so.
I clung to him, fingers digging into hard muscle, gasping when his beard grazed my chin -- a scrape of roughness that made me tremble instead of flinch.
We crashed onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and breathless want.
Before I could even blink, his hands found the waistband of my panties, and with one brutal pull, tore them away -- exposing me to the cool bite of air and the searing heat of his gaze.
