“That’s your reason?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “It’s biological?”
“Mmm,” she said, dropping her mouth to kiss his chest. God, this was so unlike her, but it was also precisely what she wanted to do in the moment.
His breath hissed in, his hands closing gently around her upper arms. He didn’t push her away, though.
“It’s biological, yes,” she said. “But it’s mental, too. Because you’re you, and everything about you makes me want you. Whether it’s biological, evolutionary, chemical—I don’t really care. It’s a need in my belly, in my core, that I haven’t felt before. Nothing about this makes sense to me. And I feel like, if I fight it, if I don’t express to you that I want whatever you can give, that I’ll regret it on some level. I’m tired of living scared. I want to live with the kind of wild joy that comes from choosing to get on the rollercoaster.”
His hands slid around her body to cup her ass. Emma had to bite back a groan at the feel of those big hands on her bottom.
“I’m a rollercoaster, now?” he asked with a laugh before he bent to nibble her earlobe.
“You might be,” she breathed. “But I want to take the ride.”
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