Chapter 80

And, in part, that’s why now I expect more than this passionate kiss. I expect him to squeeze my breasts. An explosion of breaths as I lie on the bed and he gets up to close the door and lock it. The shift of the mattress when he returns, and the sound of cotton ripping as he tears off my panties.

I anticipate the weight of his body on mine. My wrists trapped by his shirt—what I wear as pajamas—when he pulls it over my head and uses it to limit my movements.

I imagine the tension inside my thighs when I spread my legs and the burn when he thrusts to the hilt and gives in to the wild passion he needs so badly. That he craves so much.

I expect all that because I know him. Because the world has slipped out of his control, and Marcus is a man who needs not only to be in control but to take it. He isn’t a man who lets waves toss him, whipped by circumstance. He defends. He wins. He acts.

“I overturn control in sex.”

He tells me that once. And he shows me man