June's POV:
The moment I stepped into the room, he was there—waiting. Tall, dark, unreadable behind his mask. My heart slammed against my ribs, not from fear but from something far more dangerous. Need.
I didn't say anything. We never did.
Instead, I moved toward him, tilting my chin up in silent permission. His fingers brushed my jaw, a single moment of restraint before he grabbed me and turned me around, shoving me hard against the cold wall.
Yes. This was what I needed.
Not soft. Not careful. Not sweet.
His hands were rough as they gripped my hips, pushing me flush against the unyielding surface. My breath hitched when I felt him press against me, his heat searing through the layers between us. I arched instinctively, craving more, craving everything.
