Chapter 12

• The door hadn't even fully latched before Ryder had me pinned against it. The wood groaned behind my back as his weight pressed me flush, his hands sliding from my thighs to my waist, gripping me with a force that promised bruises you wouldn't mind.
• "Inside," he muttered against me lips, his voice ragged and stripped of all its usual cool composure. "You have no idea what you're asking for, Haven."
• His mouth found mine again—harder this time, more desperate. He tasted like black coffee and something wild, something primal that made my head spin. One of his hands slid up, fingers tangling deep into my hair, tilting my head back to give him better access to my throat. He bit down again, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make me gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders through the leather.