“Can you?” I challenge, pushing his button.
“Can I?” he repeats, while I’m trying to hold myself together with the last fraying thread of my sanity.
He shifts, kneeling between my thighs, towering over me.
His hand moves to the front of his shorts, untying them with that same calm, dangerous control that’s been unraveling me all night.
Then he buries his thumb under the waistband and pulls down, revealing his carved V-line. Lightning flashes behind him, followed by the sound of thunder and the guys yelling. It makes the moment feel even more forbidden… even more intimate.
His cock springs free.
Oh my God.
My mouth falls open as I take it all in. How do guys walk around with that between their legs? How am I going to take it between mine?
He watches my reaction—sees my eyes widen, sees the panic and the awe and the heat all crashing into each other.
“Too big for you, baby?” he murmurs.
I can’t even answer. He pushes his pants down farther, tossing them aside before doing the same with his shirt. Now he’s naked in front of me, and I understand why he acts the way he does. I’d be this cocky too if I looked like that—every inch of him shifting and flexing in the soft glow of the lamp.
He’s devastatingly stunning. Wide, round shoulders. Prominent pecs. Abs cut deep. His body matches his face—both infuriatingly perfect.
The throbbing between my legs worsens.
He leans over me again, body hovering just above mine, his cock dragging along my thigh as he settles between my legs.
“Last chance,” he warns, voice low. “You tell me to stop, and I stop.”
“Don’t stop.” I shake my head.
“You want my cock?”
“Yes,” I whisper, cheeks heating.
I’m actually doing this. Holy shit, I’m actually about to do this with him. I might regret it later—when I see his face plastered on a magazine with a headline about his newest fling—but right now, none of it matters.
He shifts his hips forward just enough to drag the thick length of him along my slit, slow strokes that make my thighs tremble. He slaps it once against my pussy, again, then rubs the head up and down through the soft, wet ache between my legs.
I whimper and arch my hips.
He grins, cocky and possessive and fucking unfair, before lining himself up.
The head nudges at my entrance, and my breath stalls in my throat.
This is it.
My left hand wraps around his thick forearm while the other fists the sheets. Pressure builds—a thick stretch that makes my body tense and my eyes flutter shut.
The moment the head of his cock presses through my entrance, my breath catches and my body goes rigid under him.
And Jace freezes completely. Still braced above me, muscles tense, abs flexed, every inch of him heavy and hot and ready… but he stops.
Just the tip, but it’s enough—because I know he feels it. The resistance.
I see the exact second it hits him. His jaw clenches and his eyes flicker with realization.
“Melody.”
