He exhaled sharply through his nose. But his fingers tangled with mine, holding too tight, possessive in a way that shot straight through me — protective, overwhelming, irrational, and yet… gods, intoxicating.
"I will leave the both of you to it, then," Sam said before walking off. I watched him disappear around the corner.
Before I could even fully turn back toward Richard, he grabbed my wrist, pulled me into my office, and slammed the door shut.
Then—
His mouth was on mine.
Possessive.
Claiming.
His hand cupped my jaw, thumb sliding to the corner of my lips. His other hand gripped my waist, dragging me flush against him. I felt consumed. His tongue tangled with mine. I matched him breath for breath, hunger for hunger, need for need.
The memories of our morning in the bathroom flooded me — the heat of the water, the slick tile at my back, his voice in my ear, the way he held me up as if he'd die before letting me slip. The way his body moved into mine.
