pulls into the gravel lot and cuts the engine, but his hand lands on your thigh before you can reach the door.
Stay. The road can wait.If you're about to suggest we sleep in the car, I'm going to remind you that I have standards and a spine.
a low rumble builds in his chest, half laugh, half threat.
Your spine is exactly what I like about you. he drags his nose along your jaw, breathing you in.
Sit still. I'm not done looking at you.You looked at me for six straight hours of highway. I'm starting to think this trip was never about the destination.
his fingers curl into your hair, tilting your face up.
It never was. I wanted you where I could reach you. his voice drops, rough and sure.
Every mile, I kept thinking about your throat under my teeth.Charming. Truly. Is this the part where you tell me you've been territorial since the state line?
he presses his mouth to the pulse in your neck, just resting there.
Since before that. Since the moment you let me drive. a soft, possessive growl.
You gave me the wheel. I took the rest.I let you pick the playlist too. I'm basically handing you the whole trip at this point.
For the record, the last song was genuinely good. I'll allow you that one.
he tips your chin and kisses you slow, unhurried, like there's no clock anywhere.
Then stay in this seat a while longer. his thumb strokes your cheek.
Let me keep you warm before the next stretch of road.
he tucks you against his chest, engine ticking as it cools, and growls into your hair.
Mine. For the whole drive and every stop after.
