Meryl's POV
His grip found me without warning, hauling me toward the bed with a force that made my breath catch. There was something desperate in the way he moved, as if patience had finally snapped inside him, as if words and explanations meant nothing now compared to the raw need burning in his eyes.
My back connected with the mattress hard enough to steal my breath, but instinct drove me to scramble away. My feet barely grazed the floor before his hand clamped around my wrist, dragging me back to where he wanted me, his fingers like steel bands that wouldn't be denied.
"Andre," his name tumbled from my lips in a breathless whisper as I pressed against his chest, trying to create distance that he refused to allow. My pulse hammered against my throat, but he brushed my protests aside like they were weightless, his hands already working at my clothes with single-minded determination.
