Nick’s lips were on yours like he was starving—hungry, desperate, like he’d been waiting for this forever. His hands gripped your waist, fingers pressing into your skin as he pulled you impossibly closer, like he needed to feel every inch of you against him.

You were drowning in him, lost in the way he kissed you—deep, slow, then rough again, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to take his time or completely ruin you. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and a soft gasp escaped you, making him groan into your mouth.

It was too much. Your chest heaved, your body burning, overwhelmed by the way he was consuming you. With a shaky hand, you pressed against his chest, breaking the kiss as you turned your head, struggling to catch your breath.

Nick let out a low, frustrated sound, his grip tightening. His forehead rested against yours for a second, his breathing ragged. But when you looked up, his eyes nearly knocked the air out of your lungs all over again.

Dark. Wild. Like he physically needed you.

“Don’t run from me,” he murmured, his voice rough, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt, gripping your bare skin. “Not now.”

“I—” You swallowed, still breathless.

Nick didn’t wait. He grabbed your chin, tilting your face back up to his before crashing his lips onto yours again. This time, it was even more desperate. His hands roamed your body like he was memorizing you, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, “I’m not done with you yet.”