His dark eyes lifted to meet hers hazy, flushed, and burning with need.
She was temptation incarnate. The air between them crackled, thick and volatile, as if one wrong breath would set it ablaze.
Every instinct inside him roared for possession for the right to pin her to the tree and mark her as his. She had stripped him bare of discipline, reduced his iron control to splinters at her feet. Around her, the savage in him stretched and bared its teeth. The beast woke eagerly whenever she so much as breathed in his direction.
She shifted in his hold, fingers lifting as though to pry his hand from her hair. Realizing he'd tightened his grip too much, he loosened it slightly. Her gaze dipped to his chest.
He hated that.
He fucking hated when she looked away like she was stealing back a piece of herself he'd almost captured.
"What do you want, Jacqueline?" he rasped against the curve of her ear.
