Destroyed Destiny (Crowne Point 4)

Breath left me and I bit his shoulder, wetting his shirt with my saliva, fisting the fabric at his back.

Hard, fast, desperate.

“More,” I begged.

His blue eyes darkened, then he was gone. His hands and mouth from my body. I missed him with a whimper. Yet no sooner do I open my mouth to beg him to come back, did he grip my dress again, tearing it from neck to navel. The velvet material butterflied at my waist, and I was entirely bare before Grayson. Shock danced with desire.

How would I go back now?

Grayson pushed his cheek out with his tongue as he studied me. With each second that passed, goose bumps peppered my flesh.

“Grayson… H-how—” I swallowed, trying to think beyond his burning gaze.

Slowly, his eyes found mine. “I’ve missed the way you say my name, little wife.”

He crushed his lips against mine, wrapping his arms around my body and dragging his hands beneath the hollow of my shoulder blades. From his wicked, heady, rich scent, to the silky fabric of his dress shirt pressed against my bare flesh, he gave me his entire body, bleeding his entire soul into mine.

Grayson.

His groan dripped down my throat and I held tighter on to him, my teeth tingling like I’d had too much sugar.

“G-Grayson—” At my stuttering, his smile ghosted my lips. “That dress was my way back.”

West will know I left—the world will know I left. There’s no sneaking back into the party.

“You’re not going back,” Grayson snarled the words, teeth sinking into my bottom lip.

Alarm rang in my mind, foggy through the desire. What did that mean?

Grayson would break from his kiss for seconds—seconds of hot, powerful torture. Diving for my neck, my shoulder, my cheek, my collarbone—anything. He was feral in his determination to devour everything.

While he assaulted my neck in kisses, I managed an eloquent, “H-huh?”

I had a split-second view of Grayson—of blue-eyed lust and unbridled need—and I thought he might answer me, but he just slammed me hard against the wall, slanting his mouth over mine to get more of me. All of me.

My mind fractured, my vision went blurry, my knees weak.

If it weren’t for Grayson holding me up, I would have slid down the wall.

“I’ve missed your mouth.” He dragged his hand from my back to hike my thigh around his waist. “Your taste.” He bit my bottom lip, punctuating his words with a bite. “Your lips. I could spend hours on them.” A deep sucking kiss on my bottom lip, then top. “Days. Fucking weeks. Just on these.”

I couldn’t move in his grip and that made me hotter. I was a prisoner to his desire and desperation, holding me still, to use and abuse with his furious assault of kisses.

His muscles flexed beneath my fingers, roped and powerful. I could only react, gasp, and grab on to him. I tore at his collar—and then I saw it. The bruise. The one he still hadn’t told me about.

Prisoner.

“Wait!”

He froze, hair wild and messy over blue eyes shining through like a monster in a dark cave.

“W-what happened while I was away—” I broke off on a groan as he hiked up my torn dress, a finger circling my ass, while his other hand seared my pregnant stomach.

“This isn’t…” I broke off on a groan. “This isn’t fighting fair.”

He laughed darkly against my lips.

Calculated.