I quelled the rage rolling through my veins with a different kind of fire that burned hot enough to incinerate anything in its path.

I was done thinking. Crying. Begging. If this was our last night, then I just wanted to feel. I’d be angry tomorrow.

Josh lifted me as our mouths fed off each other in a kiss so carnal I thought we might combust. My back hit the refrigerator, magnets crashing to the floor. I wound my legs around his waist, locking my ankles at his back, and arched into him, craving the friction of his chest against my breasts.

When I reached for the buttons on his shirt, he grasped both of my hands by the wrists and pinned them to the cool, stainless steel above my head. “December.” My name was rough on his lips, fought for. Just like every inch of this relationship. “Is this what you—”

I cut him off midsentence, setting my mouth to his and rocking my hips against his. At the touch of our tongues, he groaned and stopped trying to make sense of what was happening. “I want your hands on my body. Is that something you can give me?” Because I’m losing in every other department.

His breaths were sweet on my face, coming in erratic bursts as he focused on me, his eyes darkening. Damn, that stare was hot. Everything about him was an aphrodisiac to me, from the sensuous curve of his lips to the incredible way he smelled, like he’d been dipped in pheromones specifically designed to get me wet.

“What’s the verdict?” I asked.

“Like there was ever a question,” he answered, his gaze dropping to my lips a second before he kissed me deeply. He let go of my hands, trailing his fingers down my upstretched arms until he reached my shoulders. Then he tilted my head and assaulted my neck with his lips, teeth, and tongue. White-hot desire drummed through me in a steady beat.

He shifted his hands to under my thighs and held me tight, backing us up through the kitchen. I buried my hands in his hair, putting my entire focus into kissing him, pulling his lower lip with a gentle bite. He hissed, and I found a wall at my back, my ass sliding over something—the railing on the staircase.

He devoured my mouth with small nips, slow kisses, and deep, rhythmic slides of his tongue. I was going to be a puddle on the floor if he kept it up much longer. My hands found the material of his shirt and yanked it free from where my thighs held it prisoner. He took it from there, unbuttoning the first few holes and then pulling it over his head in one smooth motion that I never tired of seeing, not when it revealed the cut lines of what lay beneath.

I placed my hand over the tattoo above his heart, the one he’d gotten for me, fire and ice. “You’re incredible. I never get tired of touching you.”

A cocky grin appeared on his face. “Feeling’s mutual.” He took my mouth again and finished carrying me up the stairs, not bothering to shut our bedroom door behind him.

I landed in the middle of our bed, and he turned on our bedside lamp. The pure want screaming from his eyes had my thighs restless as he took off my shoes. He ran his hands up my legs, pulling them apart, and rose above me, stealing my breath. Josh settled between my thighs, then stripped my top off with a fluid move. “God, December. Every line of you is fucking perfect.”

“To you.” I smiled as his fingers traced the lacy cups of my pink bra.

“For me. You’re mine. Don’t you dare forget it.”

His kiss was as hot as a branding iron, and just as effective. He made quick work of my shorts and thong, tossing them haphazardly across the room. My bra was next, leaving me naked. I leaned up on my elbows as his shorts and boxers hit the floor, and then he was as gloriously bare as I was. My core clenched and my breath quickened as he lowered himself over me, skin against delicious skin. “Are you mine?” I asked as he skimmed kisses over my collarbone.

“In every way. You own me, December.”

Except where the army does. The thought snuck into my head, and a tidal wave of anger swept over me, wiping everything else away for that second. My fingers gripped his hair as he covered my nipple with his lips, transforming the anger back into lust in a way only Josh was capable of. The mix was overwhelming, both emotions raw, passionate, all-encompassing.

I pushed on his shoulder and he complied, rolling so he sat with me straddling him. I knew I only had as much control in bed as he was willing to let go, which made these moments all the sweeter. But sweet wasn’t exactly what I wanted. I poured every emotion I couldn’t contain into my kiss—my love, frustration, desire, and red-hot fury. He palmed my breasts as I rolled my hips against his erection, and I caught his moan in my mouth. “Baby, you’re killing me.”

“Good,” I whispered, rising up on my knees to let him slide between my folds.

He sucked in his breath, resting his forehead on my collarbone, and then had me gasping as he swirled his thumbs over my nipples. “Oh no, not yet,” he said as he ran his mouth along my jawline, the stubble from his cheek leaving a slight burn in his wake.

“Josh,” I begged, but he caught my hips before I could sink down over him.

“Not yet,” he repeated. One hand slid between us, and my hips bucked as he brushed over my clit, a shock of need radiating through my limbs to my toes and bringing a gasp to my lips. “I’ll never get enough of this,” he said as his fingers slid along me, and he slipped one inside.

I groaned his name, my head crashing to his shoulder as all my thoughts centered on the magic his hands created. He added another finger and pressed his palm against my clit as I rocked against him. Damn, that felt amazing. He knew exactly how fast to move, where to press, where to stroke. My body was as familiar to him as his own, and he played it expertly. “There,” he whispered, as his fingers curled with each withdrawal.