One of his hands tangles in my hair, gripping at the root and pulling until my scalp tingles. The other slides down to my hip. I place my palm over it in a silent plea for him to grip me harder.
Make my body remember you’re here. Bruise it to prove a point. I want to be your broken little plaything, Bastian Hale; that’s what I was born to be.
My thighs clench around his waist. My breath comes in ragged gasps whenever we separate long enough to allow it. Every nerve ending in my body is alight and begging for more.
His hand moves again. It ventures between my thighs. One fingertip slides through the slick heat there.
“f**k,” he growls against my lips. “You’re soaked.”
We’re on a public sidewalk in broad daylight. Anyone could drive by. Anyone could see.
“Just… please…” is the most I c
