He raised his hands, cupped my face and tipped it back. Right before his mouth closed over mine, he whispered, “I will tell you everything.”

“When?”

“Tonight. When I get back.” He waited a beat. “Or tomorrow. Matt’s going to be handled, and you and I can go to my place downtown. I want alone time with you anyways.” He sucked in some air. “I need alone time with you.”

Those lips opened over mine, and I stopped questioning. I couldn’t. Lust. Desire. Need. All of those and more, so much more, rose up in me, and I was panting by the time he pulled away.

A second kiss. A second whisper. “I’ll come to you tonight, later this morning.”

The guards walked me back to the villa. They went in, had me wait just inside, and once the house was secured, I went to bed.

I didn’t think I could sleep. I kept replaying everything. The house. The people. The sex. The drugs. Matt’s cruelty.

“You’re beneath us.”

I cringed.

How Matt talked to those people, how his group had been in the farthest back room of the house, as if others weren’t allowed in, weren’t good enough to join. At how he hadn’t been shocked to see Kash at all.

How Kash knew right where to go.

What have I gotten myself into?

THIRTY-FIVE

I had fallen asleep.

The sheet lifted and I startled.

A hand touched my hip, sliding over my waist, and I felt the bed dip under his weight. “It’s just me.” Kash pulled me back to him, lining up his entire body against mine, and he kissed my shoulder. “Go back to sleep.”

He tightened his hold on me.

Another whisper. “I’ve got you.”

Another kiss.

And I slept.

* * *

I woke up hot. Like hot hot. I was panting. A mouth was on mine, kissing, licking, tasting. As I gasped awake, Kash was above me, his hand on my stomach, his mouth on mine, and he was claiming me. Legit possessive alpha claiming. A growl worked up from his throat and he lifted his head, rasping out, “Is this okay?” His hand trailed down my neck, moving south, moving, moving, trailing all the way down and moving aside my tank top like it was nothing. “Please tell me it’s okay.”

He shifted against me, his erection right there, and hard.

Desire slammed into my senses and I gasped from how violent my need for him was. “Yes.” I mewled. “God yes.” Moving to my side, I wound my arms around his neck, and his mouth was back on mine.

I was already a mix of writhing and boneless.

He was taking from me again, his mouth opening over mine, his tongue sliding inside, and I met him. I matched him, almost clawing to get closer. His hand moved to my thigh. We were both on our sides, pressed smack against each other, and we were both needing. Just needing. My leg moved between his and his hips rocked against mine. There. We paused. Both hissing from the touch. Molten desire speared in me.

I needed him now.

Not yesterday. Not an hour from now. Now.

“Kash,” I moaned.

“Bailey.”

All rational thought fled me.

Impatience and urgency were two very prominent themes happening inside of me now. I slid my hand to my stomach. He was shirtless. So much the better. I rolled my body against him, salivating at the feel of his muscles. They were tight and taut and pulsating with the control he was using. He was holding back.

I suddenly didn’t want him to hold back. Ever. Most certainly not now, not when I was aching, throbbing. I moved against him, grinding, and he hissed, his hand clamping on my thigh.

“Fuck, Bailey.” He gasped, his forehead going to mine, his eyes searching for me. “I want to…”

I heard his hesitation. I shook my head. No hesitation. There was no place for that, not in this bed. I started to tell him that, my voice completely wrecked, when he shifted our positions. He rolled me swiftly to my back and rose above me. Pushing my legs apart, he settled between me, and then rocked against me. Once more. Deliciously. Agonizingly. So. Fucking. Slow. I whimpered, biting my lip. My hands formed into fists, and I pushed them against his shoulder.

“Kash, please.”

He swooped down, his mouth catching my whimper.

He caught it and answered back with his own growl, but he didn’t move faster or harder. He held himself up, his arms braced on the bed beside me, and gazing down at me, holding my eyes, looking deep in me, he pushed against me.

He was wearing boxer shorts.

I was wearing sleeping shorts.

Why the hell were they both on?

I wanted to push at them, rip them off, but he chuckled, his mouth opening over mine again. “Not here.” A soft kiss. “Not when there’s two guards who can hear us.” A hard kiss. “This weekend.” A harder kiss. “At my place downtown.” The hardest kiss, and I caught the back of his head before he could lift up again.