Wrath (Sinful Secrets, #4)

by Ella James

“Never jump,” I whisper. “Never fall.” His lips brush my back. He hugs me tight, wrapping himself around me. “You gotta be careful, Millsy. Don’t come here without me.”

And then he steps in closer, wraps a hand around the back of my head, and kisses me so hard and deep I nearly slide to the ground.

I wake up with Ezra wrapped around me like some kind of insane starfish. He’s behind me—he’s spooning me now—with one arm around my shoulders, one hand clutching the waistline of my boxer briefs, and one of his warm legs pushed between mine, like he wants to be sure we’re joined from head to toe.

“Look at me, Ez. Look at my face.” He shuts his eyes. “Tell me this much: Who fucked up before me? Who fucked around with you and made you feel like loving you was hard work?”

When I was sick, you took care of me. If you’re sick, nothing feels good; you’re in pain. And you’re saying I can make you feel better? I’d do that all damn day. All night, too. I’ll suck your dick ten times a day if you want. If I can cure depression for you with a blow job, sign me the fuck up, baby. You got nightmares but I make them better? I’ll be your drug. You think helping you feel good could ever be a burden to me?”