My hand lassoed around her neck, squeezing for that perfect taste of submission.
The flash of surrender that I so desperately needed.
Her mouth popped wide as I held her tight.
Our eyes locked.
For a second, she stared as if she didn’t know me then, in a wash of pure acceptance and obedience, she corrupted me with bliss.
She licked her lips, arching herself deeper into my control.
“Fuck.” I fell on her again, holding nothing back, driving her into the dirt, squeezing her gorgeous throat, stealing everything I could.
I wanted to treat her as kindly as I’d always done, but she knew me now.
She knew enough to understand I wouldn’t be sweet.
Not in this.
I reached between us for my own belt. “Don’t move. I won’t last much longer if you move.”
But she disobeyed me, wriggling a little higher to slip her hands over mine and grab the buckled leather instead. “Me.”
That simple possessive word made me harder than I’d ever been. “Christ, Della.”
A thunderstorm percolated in my blood. Rumbling thunder and crackling lightning gathered like eager sinners in my lower belly, howling at her to do whatever she damn well wanted.
I couldn’t breathe as her shoulders bobbed, her hands busy below. The tug of her yanking the leather through the buckle, the slight give as it fell to the sides, the incineration of her fingers on my sensitive skin as she unhooked the button and eased my zipper down.
And when she touched me…when her fingers feathered over my hardness for the first time. When she bit her lip as if shocked and awed that I’d finally, finally permitted such things. When her touch turned from feather to forceful and she wrapped her fingers around me, I motherfucking broke.
My mind fractured, and I sucked in lungsful of tainted air.
And by breaking, memories I’d been ignoring drowned me.
Of Della teaching me to read.
Of Della smacking a kiss on my lips under the mistletoe that first Christmas at the Wilsons.
Of Della…
Della…
Della.
Fuck.
I panted as if I’d run to Mclary’s and back. My eyes saw double. My heart beat triple. But even though I bordered obsession filled with disgust for what I was doing, I couldn’t stop.
For a week, I hadn’t remembered.
Now, those memories were determined to play a part—to ensure we were prepared for the aftermath of pleasure. To prove we were ready to accept that we could never go back, only forward.
I accepted.
I wholeheartedly flung myself into the future and fisted both hands into her hair, smashing her lips to mine.
I stole her breath as my tongue dove deep, tasting her, condemning her.
She writhed, her legs scissoring tight around my waist, caught up in the whirlpool of erotic thirst and carnal hunger.
Our bodies strained with violence, already grinding, punishing, needy.
For years, I’d suspected Della was just as volatile as me when it came to sex, and now, I knew. She was just as unleashed. Both of us dangerous. Both highly unstable.
A fatal recipe.
Beasts driven to mate on the forest floor.
She nipped my lip, digging her nails into my scalp.
With a rumbling groan, I attacked her again, twisting in a vortex of young Ribbon and the present. My touch turned nasty, bruising her as I tried to take and take.
We kissed hungrily, savagely.
I wanted to hurt her for the power she had over me.
I wanted to punish her for making me this crazed.
Della slid a hand between our tight, overheated bodies and grabbed my cock, jerking me with vicious command.
I snapped and kissed her again, teeth and tongue and torment.
Deeper and deeper, over and over.
She cried out as twigs and debris scratched her while I devoured her. Thorns and sticks were nothing compared to the delicious pain her nails granted as she fought me back, bruise for bruise.
There was nothing gentle about any of this.
Both of us drunk on wildness and frenzy.
And when our battling wasn’t enough, I bit her bottom lip.
Hard.
Too hard.
She cried out, pulling back with a look of fiery desperation and a thread of wariness.
I’d told her I couldn’t control myself. But as fresh air filled my nose and common-sense returned, my heart became master over my traitorous body, dousing my lust with ice. “Ribbon…I-I’m sorry.”
She breathed as hard as me, quicksilver desire in her eyes. “I’m not.” Rearing up, she captured my mouth again, enslaving me to her for life.
Our mania reached a new level of velocity.
All the years between us, each precious in their own way, were now barriers we had to smash apart immediately.
I needed her instantly.
She needed me urgently.
I loved that we both raced to the same chaotic beat.
Her body wriggled beneath mine as she shoved her underwear down her legs.
I froze, knowing she was naked, and I only had to lean back to look.
I wanted to look.
I desperately wanted to look.
But if I did, this would be all over.
Everything about this was too much.