My eyes lock onto hers, and I know mine are wild—hungry and desperate, and probably terrifying in their intensity. But she doesn't look away. She meets that intensity head-on, challenging me, inviting me deeper.

She wants me to fuck her. Right here, right now.

Fuck.

My hand slides up to cup her face, thumb brushing over her bottom lip, feeling it tremble beneath my touch. The softness there makes my chest constrict painfully.

She nods, but it's not enough. Not nearly enough. I need to hear her voice, need the words to solidify what's unfolding between us, need to know she's as lost in this as I am.

"Words. I need your words.” I demand, and feel her whole body tremble against mine, the vibration passing into my own chest like we're sharing one nervous system.

"Yes, Nate," she breathes, her voice unsteady and full of need. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, anchoring us both in this moment that feels too good to be real. "Yes, I want you to fuck me right here. Please.”

It’s the please that forces my control to shatter like glass.

A growl rips from my chest, primal and unrestrained, as I crash my lips against hers again. The taste of her—sweet and addictive—floods my senses. She's every dream I've ever had coming true at once, every wish granted, every prayer answered, and the intensity of it threatens to tear me apart.

My hands explore her body like I'm trying to memorize every curve, every dip, every reaction. The way she arches into my touch, her body responding instantly like it was made for my hands, the soft gasp when my fingers trail down her spine sending goosebumps racing over her skin, and the way she whispers my name like a prayer against my lips—it's almost too much to bear.

I press her against the table, feeling the solid wood beneath us, grounding us in this moment that feels too surreal to be happening. Her hands are everywhere—in my hair, tugging just enough to send sparks shooting down my spine; clawing at my back, her nails leaving trails of fire that make me hiss through my teeth; pulling me closer until there's no space left between us, her soft curves molding perfectly against the hard planes of my body.

"Fuck," I rasp, barely recognizing my own voice, hoarse with desire and something deeper, something that scares the shit out of me. “You are going to fucking ruin me Len.”

The words trail off as I bury my face in the curve of her neck, my lips tracing a burning path down to her collarbone, tongue tasting the salt of her skin, feeling her pulse hammering wildly beneath my mouth. The knowledge that I affect her this way—that she wants me as desperately as I want her—is fucking intoxicating.