Jesus, I melted in his hands and I didn’t know what to do about it.

  “I…” He opened his mouth, trying to speak, but the words didn’t come out. He shook his head. “I’m afraid you’ll decide I’m not worth it, even though I know I’m not.”

  I tilted my head forward, kissing the tip of his chin. He sighed, closing his eyes.

  “I don’t know what more you want me to do to prove I love you, Jon,” I murmured against his skin. “I’d appreciate it if you could just believe me.”

  “I do.” He opened his eyes, darker due to the desire wrapped up in them. “I do. This is my issue. Not yours. I can’t make a decision about you.”

  “Then, can I make the decision for myself?”

  He paused as though taking in my statement. He blinked once, then reached up to curl a strand of hair behind my ear. “I suppose that would only be fair,” he said.

  I smiled. “I’m glad you think so.”

  “So,” he said. “What does that mean?”

  I leaned back against the counter and lifted my shoulder in a shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know what it means for us,” I said. “I think we both love each other, but sometimes loving someone is the easy part. It’s what we do with that love, with those feelings, that makes things difficult.”

  “You sound like you’re speaking from personal experience,” he said.

  “Maybe I am,” I said back. Even though Jon knew about my relationship with Robby did not mean I wanted to go into detail about it. “I just know that I don’t want to screw this up with you. I love you. And that’s great. But at the end of the day, that means nothing if you have your issues and I have mine. We have to be able to work on ourselves if we’re going to make this work.”

  “Everyone has shit they need to work on. That doesn’t stop them from being with someone.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Obviously,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “But just because we decide we’re going to be together doesn’t stop my grandfather. It doesn’t stop Ben. I think we need to stop them.”

  Jon nodded once. “They aren’t going to stop me from kissing you whenever I want, though.” His voice had dropped, sandpaper tickling my skin in only the best of ways. “They aren’t going to stop me from fucking you whenever I want. And right now, I want to fuck you. I want to possess your body like you fucking belong to me.” He clenched his teeth. “We can worry about everything else later.”

  My core throbbed with desire. I closed my eyes, a shudder ripping down my spine. I should tell him no. We needed to discuss Ben’s request for an interview. I knew we touched on it, but we got sidetracked as we were wont to do.

  But how could I resist him? How could I say no when he was here, in front of me, telling me he wanted to be with me, telling me he couldn’t stay away, telling me he wanted to figure out a way we could be together.

  “Where?”

  “I don’t care,” he said. His hands cupped my hips again, his thumbs running up and down the bones. Even through my clothes I could feel his rough hands and I sucked in a breath. Anticipation caused heat to flood through me, and it wasn’t long before the familiar slick feeling between my thighs teased at me, waiting for him to fill me up. Waiting for him to do just what he promised - claim me as his.

  “The table.”

  His brows perked up, surprised by my brazen suggestion.

  I wasn’t. I always wanted to experiment. I wanted to be so caught up in the heat, the passion, and I wanted to not think about things like where to fuck and how to fuck. I just wanted to lose myself in the moment and the only person I trusted enough to do that with was Jon.

  “If you’re more comfortable on the bed…”

  He swallowed the rest of my retort with a hungry kiss. I reached up and ran my fingers through his short hair, tugging at the roots as best I could once more. I loved the way they felt. I loved the way he felt.

  Maybe this wasn’t just about losing myself in the moment. Maybe this was about me staking my claim on him, marking him the way he seemed intent on marking me.

  The difference was, he knew he had me. And I only just found out I had him.

  Our tongues dueled for dominance. The kiss was sloppy but passionate. Our teeth clanged together but I didn’t care. It made this real. It made our intense desire that more real.

  His hands traced the curves of my body until he reached the top button of my shirt. Instead of undoing it, he tugged so my buttons popped off like squirting ketchup into the air.

  I ripped away from him, shoving his shoulder. “This is one of my favorite shirts,” I said through a hooded glare. “And don’t say you’re going to buy me a new one. You never replaced the boy shorts you tore through and I highly doubt you have a way to make money to afford what you just destroyed.”

  Jon pulled away slightly, giving me a cool stare. I wasn’t going to back down.

  “By all means, continue to rip up my clothes,” I continued. “You’ll force me to walk around completely naked, and while I’m sure Robby is totally and completely in love with Gwen, I doubt he’s going to care much if I have to visit him naked.”

  Suddenly, Jon leaned forward so he was in my space, a growl sifting through clenched teeth. “Don’t even joke about that,” he said, each word clipped. “No one gets to see you naked except me. Are we clear?”

  My heart flipped in my chest, and the pulsating between my thighs only enhanced. I wanted to keep fighting him. I wanted to battle with him, to make him understand my point, but it was so damn hard to do with him looking at me like I was his possession, like the thought of anyone seeing me without my clothes was enough to go to war over.

  “Hmm?” he pressed when I still hadn’t answered him.

  I nodded my head, feeling my mouth dry up the way a puddle might underneath the glaring desert sun.

  “Also,” he continued. He didn’t back up even though he was still in my face, chest pressed against my chest, hands holding both of mine down, almost like a precursor to pinning them if need be. “I will fuck you anywhere and you will beg me for more no matter where that is.”

  Any hint of saliva vanished in the entirety of my mouth and dropped to my stomach. I was molten lava, melting, dripping, into my swollen core. I needed relief. This was getting to be too damn painful.

  He coiled fingers around my wrist and tugged me towards him. Instead of claiming my mouth once more, he stepped back, his other hand on the small of my back. He gently pushed me to the aforementioned table. Without warning, he dropped my wrist only to place his hand on my hip and bend me over. His hands ran up and down my hips, feeling them again, like he hadn’t touched me like this a month or so ago.

  It had been too long.

  “Take off your skirt before I rip it off,” he instructed, his chin grazing the top of my shoulder. I leaned my head towards him, trying to protect the vulnerable skin there.

  There was a small, rebellious part of me that wanted nothing more than to fight back, to show him I wasn’t going to do whatever it was he wanted just because he told me what to do. However, I couldn’t help but be curious what he had in store for me, for us.

  I did as he asked, reaching behind me to unzip the tight pencil skirt. I must have been moving too slowly for Jon, however, because he reached his fingers under the hem and yanked. I fell forward, catching myself on the surface of the table just in time. I let out a whimper of frustration, but it died in my throat the second I saw the way his eyes raked up and down my bare backside, completely bare save for the strap of underwear keeping me minimally decent.

  He didn’t say anything; he reached out and unhooked my bra, letting the straps fall to the sides. Slowly, he eased my arm out of one before doing the same thing to the other. He was surprisingly tender about it, gentle in a way I hadn’t realized he was capable of. When my bra fell to the floor, he dropped to his knees behind me and slowly peeled my underwear down, placing one kiss, then another on the curve of my buttocks. I flinched each time, not because I was scared or surprised, but because it touched me on a deeper level than I expected it to be.

  When his tongue licked the length of my core, I sucked in a sharp breath.

  I wasn’t expecting that.

  My eyes snapped open. I tried to angle my head. I wanted to watch him, but I wasn’t able to. His hands kept me in place. I grunted in frustration and he put more pressure on my core. He lapped at me in a controlled way, keeping his pace steady, feeding from me like I produced nectar and he was here to take advantage of it.

  The second he slid his long digit inside of me, I started to feel dizzy. He knew my body better than I did. I didn’t know how it was possible. I had been experimenting with myself since I was fifteen and had read a particularly interesting fanfic that raised a lot of questions I could answer if I just tried. Jon and I had been intimate a handful of times, and somehow, the way he touched me was like nothing I’d experienced before. He was magic in physical form, and the way my body reacted told me I was madly, deeply, under his spell.

  I released all the tension I had been carrying around since he left and just shattered. I couldn’t help my spasm as I rocked back and forth. I clutched at the surface of the table, desperate to keep myself up. My knees were Jello. If Jon’s hands hadn’t gripped my waist, I would have melted into a puddle on the floor.

  I didn’t even realize it when he stood up, positioning himself behind me. I didn’t realize when he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his throbbing cock. His tip pressed against my cheek. It was already dripping with need. I shuddered, squeezing my pelvis to try and keep myself in one piece.

  “Fuck, you taste delicious,” he muttered, more to himself than for me.

  Not that it mattered.

  His voice had the same effect on me that his touch did. It was pathetic, really. His words were like fingers, caressing my most sensitive places. I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to be so eager for him. I wanted to make him beg for it.

  But my pride had vanished the second his tongue found my mound and lapped at me the way a dog lapped water from a bowl. It wasn’t the most delicate of comparisons, but it was raw, animalistic. I didn’t give a shit.

  “Fuck, fuck me,” I told him, glancing at him over my shoulder.

  He picked his eyes off my body so he could meet my heated stare with his own. Somehow, the pitch-black orbs got even darker. They might have resembled absolute nothingness had it not been for the fire that was lit behind them.

  “What was that?” he asked, pressing against me so I could feel just how badly he wanted me.

  I could only imagine what he would feel like once he was sheathed in my warmth. I didn’t want to imagine. I wanted him inside of me now.

  “You’re wasting time,” I managed to get out. In truth, I had no idea how I was still able to talk at all, not with my throat dry, rough like gravel. “Can you fuck me please?”

  The corner of his lips flickered and amusement danced in his eyes. It was so unlike him, to not be serious, that I was momentarily distracted.

  “I don’t like being told what to do,” he said, his voice guttural. “But I love hearing you beg.”

  I clenched my teeth together. “Fuck you, Jon,” I said before I could stop myself. “You constantly change your mind about what you want. Stay, go, stay, go. I don’t care. But if you’re going to stay, can you get over yourself and fuck me please? I’ve been waiting too long not to have you and you’re drawing this out longer than you need to. What more do you want me to say?”

  “Tell me you’re mine,” he growled, leaning over me and nipping my earlobe with his teeth. “Tell me you belong to me and no one else. Not just your body, but every single part of you. Your mind. Your very soul.”

  “Jesus Christ, Jon!” I exclaimed. “You have it! You have all of me. What more do you want me to say? Do you want me on my knees?”

  He grunted, closing his eyes for a moment before reopening them slowly. “As much as I want to relish in such a view, I’d rather fuck you,” he said.

  Before I could say anything more, he thrust his cock deep within the folds of my core. There was a sharp pain inside of me. I hadn’t been with anyone since Jon. I didn’t expect there to be a rush of pain at feeling him inside of me, but it was like my body needed a moment to get used to his girth again.

  He bit back a groan and he leaned over, his entire body still as he waited. Part of me was embarrassed that it felt like I was a virgin again and I needed time and patience when we both wanted to continue. The other part didn’t care, just as long as I had him inside of me.

  I would take whatever he would give me.

  Slowly, so slowly, my body began to adapt to him. He must have felt it too because he slowly began to move. Gentle and deep, at first, but then faster. I thought I would need time to accommodate such a quick shift in pace, but I didn’t. I took him in and hated when he left. His fingers dug into my sides. I knew they would bruise, but I didn’t care.

  I just wanted all of him. As much of him as I could get, and then I wanted more.

  When I started to feel the beginning of my orgasm, I clutched to the table tighter.

  “You better come soon, Lara,” Jon said roughly. “I don’t think I can wait anymore.”

  His words were my undoing. I shattered around him. I barely heard his own sharp inhale, his grip tightening even harder on my hips. None of that mattered.

  The only thing that mattered was being one with Jon in this moment. I rode it out until I couldn’t anymore.

  Jon kissed my shoulder blade and then the back of my neck.

  I shivered.

  “Let’s go to the bedroom,” he murmured. “I know we have a lot to talk about. But it can wait. For now.” A pause. “I just want to lie with you for a while.”

  I wanted it too so I didn’t say anything. But we would have to deal with my grandfather and the threat of Ben Beck soon or else it was going to eat us alive.

  Chapter 11

  I didn’t want to wake up, but I knew I had to.

  I knew we had to talk.

  The fact that Jon was still in my bed astounded me more than I was willing to admit. It wasn’t as though I didn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth last night. I believed him when he told me he wanted me. But I still wasn’t sure if that meant he was willing to give up his need for revenge in order to be with me.

  His hand cupped my hip. The light pressure was enough to make me wince. Bruises had already formed, his fingerprints forming perfectly on my body like on a glass of chilled wine.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his lips barely touching my shoulder.

  I had no idea how he even knew I was awake, but I didn’t question it. As a Lycan, his hearing was better than I could even comprehend. Maybe he could hear the shift in my breathing, the increase in my heart beat when started touching me.

  “For what?” I asked through a sigh. “For last night?”

  I shouldn’t have said anything. I wasn’t trying to be petty, and I knew if I wanted things to move forward, I needed to trust him and what he said. But he also had to know that he had a lot to prove to me. He kept going back and forth on his words that it was hard to keep up.

  He stilled beside me. It was unnerving how completely undetectable Jon could be if he really wanted to. I didn’t even know if he was breathing at this point. However, the second I looked down to check, my eyes came in contact with his dark - nearly black - ones, and I swallowed. I knew, in that moment, my question was completely unnecessary. I saw a flash of hurt, but other than that, it completely vanished.

  “No,” he finally said. His breath whispered across my skin, causing the hairs to stand straight at attention. How he had this effect on me even after all this time, I had no idea. It was like it was his super power. “No, I could never regret anything when it comes to you, except maybe that it’s taken me this long to get my shit straight.” He glanced down at my hip and his finger started tracing my skin again. This time, I realized they weren’t mindless patterns, but the bruises themselves. “I’m sorry for leaving marks on you.”

  “Oh.” I wasn’t expecting that.

  Before I could comment on it, Jon rolled over on his back, looking up at me. He reached out an arm and moved more hair over my shoulder. His eyes traced the line of my throat and down to my shoulder. His eyes flared with lust but instead of giving into it, as I expected he would, he set his lips into a thin line.

  “What’s the matter?” I placed a hand on his forehead and began smoothing out the troubled wrinkles. “You seem pensive.”

  “We need to talk,” he said. “You have an interview with Ben Beck.”

  “Yes.” I didn’t want to talk about this. Part of me worried that talking about the danger I could be in would be enough to turn all of Jon’s beautiful promises into lies and he would run away from me - again. I wanted to be able to enjoy his presence, his openness, a little longer.

  “I don’t want you to do the interview,” he said.

  I sighed, placing my hand on his forearm. It amazed me how corded an otherwise innocuous part of his body could be. “Jon, I -”

  “But,” he said, cutting me off, dropping his hand back down to his side. “I know you have to.” He began to smooth out my hip with his fingerprints, almost as though he was trying to wipe away evidence of what happened. “When I first met you, I knew you were hardheaded, probably had your own reasons for doing what you were doing. I didn’t really care to know what those reasons were because, at the time, nothing else mattered except my reasons and what they meant to me. Just goes to show you what a selfish bastard I was.”

  I snorted, tucking my chin down. “I was the same way,” I murmured. “My recklessness got a good man killed.” I swallowed, thinking of Detective Estrada. My heart clenched. There hadn’t even been a funeral because they tried to paint him as this corrupt cop when the truth was, he was one of the few that actually cared about the truth. “My uncle…” I cleared my throat. I didn’t understand why it was difficult to talk about Richard. His murder had been months ago, and I was with someone I trusted. I sucked in a breath, trying again. “Richard was murdered by Stephanie Guzman and her goons because he was trying to get the truth about what happened to his father. He thought my grandfather had been murdered, but the truth is so much worse. His death...he shouldn’t have died over it. It wasn’t worth it.”