“Me, too.” I manage to get those two words out as my hand crawls back up her body and cups her breast, forcing a moan from her lips. Her pelvis thrusts against mine, and I grab her face in my hands and start kissing the fuck out of her. When my tongue pushes past her lips, it’s just as desperate as before. Just as wild and untamed. We are pulled together, fueled by our memories and trauma and desire and need.

Cora hoists her leg up around my hip as her arms encompass my neck, pulling herself impossibly close. Her tongue is in my mouth, hot and demanding, and her hands start fisting my hair, tugging it until I moan. I roll her onto her back, our mouths only parting so I can slip her tank top up and over her head, her long hair falling down to the pillow like a golden halo.

Like an angel.

I capture her lips again as I tug down her shorts and panties until she’s wearing nothing but the necklace I gave her for Christmas.

Cora grips my t-shirt, her legs linking around my hips. “I need to feel you…” She discards the shirt, and her hands drift up and down my bare chest, over my shoulders, along my arms, then back up again. She leans up to kiss my neck, nicking her teeth on my skin—like a claim.

It fucking does something to me.

A sound pitches in my throat, almost a growl, and I loosen my belt buckle and kick off my boxers and jeans, descending on her again with maddening urgency. My mouth takes hold of her nipple, dusky and taut, and my tongue laves over each one as I feel her writhing beneath me. Her hands are in my hair again, her nails digging into my scalp, and it only drives me more wild. “You’re fucking beautiful,” I murmur against her skin, trailing my lips down over her flat stomach, then lower, until I’m between her legs. Her scent alone fuels me, but the way she bucks her hips against my face, still pulling my hair, has me diving into her heat with a hunger I’ve never felt before. Cora arches her back and lets out a cry of pleasure that electrifies me. I palm her inner thighs, then push her legs further apart, spreading her as wide as I can. I want her to be fully exposed to me—utterly vulnerable.

I push two fingers inside her as my mouth works her clit. The sweet, intoxicating taste of her mixed with how goddamn wet she is, has my cock throbbing, yearning to be inside her again. I glance up at the stretch of her body, bowed and trembling, and reach up to palm her breast as she rides against my face. I thrust my tongue over her slick folds, sucking her clit, until she’s chanting, “Dean, Dean, Dean…”

Jesus. I’ve heard my name expelled from her mouth so many times, in so many ways: anger, annoyance, outrage, humor, audacity, fear, confusion, grief, heartache… and I swear to God, love.