control
It was a collision of teeth and tongue, a desperate claim that tasted like salt and heat.
The world narrowed down to the friction of our bodies, the way his thigh felt hooked between mine, and the sharp intake of air every time his hands moved—sliding from my jaw down to my waist, gripping tight enough that I knew there’d be marks tomorrow. I welcomed them. Every touch was an anchor, pulling me deeper into the storm he was creating.
"Eli," I choked out, my voice breaking as he trailed a line of biting kisses down the sensitive line of my throat.