Chapter Fifty-Three— HimMaliya's POV I told him to shut up and kiss me, my voice a breathless command laced with the frustration and desire that had been building inside me like a storm. Micaiah's eyes darkened, that stormy blue turning almost black with hunger, and he didn't hesitate. His mouth crashed down on mine, hard and possessive, his hands framing my face as if he feared I'd vanish. The room spun around us—the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows on the walls, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the musk of our arousal—but none of it mattered. It was just him, his lips devouring mine, tongue thrusting in to claim every inch, tasting like sin and redemption all at once.I moaned into his kiss, my fingers clawing at his shirt, yanking it up to feel the heat of his skin. He was rock-hard everywhere—chest, abs, the bulge pressing insistently against my thigh. "Fuck, Maliya," he growled against my lips, breaking away just enough to nip at my jaw, his breath hot
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