He groaned, taking full control, and I gladly gave it to him. I rocked forward, and he grabbed my ass, bringing our hips flush. He was hard and made no apology for it as he threaded a hand through my hair and kissed me senseless.

How was it possible for a man to rob me of every single thought? I whimpered slightly when he started on my neck, his lips teasing every one of my sensitive spots like he had a freaking map. His hair was soft under my fingers, and I gripped it, seeking something—anything that might hold me to the earth while my body felt like it was gearing up for flight.

“You drive me insane. Do you know that?” he asked with his mouth at my throat. I arched to give him better access, and he took it. God, he felt good. “You’re all I think about. All I dream about.”

“Jackson,” I moaned in answer. Every kiss, lick, and nip sent waves of need through my limbs that pooled deep in my belly. Desire rose so fast and strong it felt like a dam breaking all the way in my soul, flooding me with feelings I didn’t need to keep locked up anymore.

He pressed kisses down the center of my chest, and when he reached the buttons of my sleeveless blouse, I popped them free.

Our eyes locked, and I rose slightly, tilted my hips forward, and slid down the length of him.

“Fuck, Kitty.” He hissed. Then his mouth fused with mine in the kind of kiss that I had only read about. The ones that altered the universe and left you addicted. I wasn’t even sure there was a universe, anymore. There was only Jackson. Jackson’s hands. Jackson’s mouth. Jackson’s body beneath mine.

His hand slid inside my open shirt to cup my breast through my plain white bra. I suddenly wished I’d gone shopping or simply cared enough in the last couple of years to own more than two colors of lingerie.

“Please.” I leaned into his touch, and he lifted my breast from the cup, rubbing his thumb over my nipple so it hardened for him.

“Perfect,” he murmured against my lips, then dipped his head and lifted me slightly so he could take the peak between his lips.

I moaned at the sweet sensation, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I reveled in the pleasure his mouth gave me. His tongue was magic, and his teeth awakened every nerve ending with delicate scrapes.

My hips rolled on instinct, seeking friction and pressure—seeking Jackson.

He groaned, switching his attention to my other breast, and then he sent his free hand up the bare skin of my thigh. I rolled forward again, and he skimmed his thumb under the hem of my shorts, following the line until he dipped between my thighs.

Oh, holy hell, yes.

“Morgan, we—”