His body pressed harder against mine, more vicious, pinning me between his undeniable heat and the cold bite of the concrete wall at my back.
He pushed himself into me as if afraid I would run away if there was even a breath of space between us.
I faltered under the crash of his mouth on mine, had no choice but to answer his brutal kiss, matching the feral rhythm he set.
I had no control over my body anymore. He controlled me, guided me, herded me, and I hated how easily I gave in to that domination.
My knees buckled when his tongue danced with mine, and my arms clung instinctively to his neck for balance.
The scent of paper and ink mixed with the cheap citrus air freshener reminded me that this was the wrong place to drown in lust.
However, every time his grip tightened around my throat, rough yet measured, it pulled a soft moan from me like a switch he knew exactly how to press.
