The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 601

Moments before Galen spotted them, Franco had pinned Petty against the glass door, weaving their fingers together as he angled his head down to capture her lips.

The searing touch of her mouth was a match to dry kindling. The six months they had spent apart erupted into a suffocating wave of desperate longing. He had missed her until it felt like madness, and pure, unrestrained instinct drove him to deepen the kiss.

"Petty..."

Her name tore from his throat in a ragged whisper as he expertly cornered her retreating tongue, claiming her mouth with dominating force.

She was entirely trapped. His long, muscular legs bracketed her thighs, expertly blocking her frantic attempts to kick him. Her knee jerked up, hitting nothing but empty air.

"Let... mmm..."

Inside the conservatory, the air was thick and sweltering, completely at odds with the howling blizzard outside. Franco had finally gotten exactly what he wanted—the taste of her, warm and real, not just a ghost haunting his dreams.

"Mmm," he groaned, a low, guttural sound of pure satisfaction vibrating in his chest.

The deep, raspy sound sent a hot flush straight to her cheeks. It felt like a live wire snapping against her skin and shooting a jolt of electricity straight down to her toes.

Her heart stuttered, gripped by a sudden, paralyzing numbness.

The overwhelming sensation terrified her. Mustering every ounce of her strength, she wrenched her face to the side.

But Franco was relentless. He chased her lips, his fingers cupping her jaw to hold her still. The heavy, musky scent of him completely enveloped her as he crashed his mouth over hers again, silencing her protests with a wet, breathless kiss.

"Don't hide from me," he murmured against her lips. "Let me kiss you."

"Get the hell..."

He swallowed the rest of her curse, forcing the words back down her throat.

The arm clamped around her waist tightened like a vice, molding her against his solid chest. The veins on the back of his hand popped, his grip so fierce it felt like he was trying to fuse their bodies together permanently.

As he plundered her mouth, his dark eyes flared. Despite her struggles, he felt the faintest, involuntary softening—a subtle response.

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. His long fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck. "Petty, be a good girl."

The second the words left his mouth, his 'good girl' sank her teeth right into his tongue!

Franco grunted in pain. Taking advantage of his shock, Petty shoved him backward with all her might. But his reflexes were lethal; he simply wiped a smear of blood from his bottom lip and immediately lunged right back into her space.

"Jerk! You absolute bastard!" Petty panted, aiming a vicious kick at his legs.

He should have known.

As if his fiery little fox would ever just roll over and take it. Any response he thought he felt was just his own pathetic delusion.

But right as Franco shifted to dodge, Petty aborted the kick, seamlessly pivoting her momentum to deliver a lightning-fast strike aimed squarely at his midsection.

A normal man would have been laid out on the floor. But Franco caught the shift in her stance the millisecond it happened. He took a fluid step back, raising a forearm to effortlessly deflect her blow.