Allyson's POV
Michael lifted me onto the kitchen island, positioning himself between my thighs. His breath hitched as he pressed closer, the heat of his body making me shiver with anticipation.
His hands found the hem of my oversized shirt, pushing the fabric upward. When his gaze discovered my bare skin beneath, something wild flickered in his dark eyes.
"Nothing underneath," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. His fingers traced along my inner thigh, finding me already responding to his touch. "You're ready for me."
The possessive edge in his tone sent electricity racing through my veins. My body betrayed how much I wanted this, wanted him.
He freed himself from his sweatpants with urgent movements, then gripped my hips and pulled me to the edge of the counter.
In one powerful thrust, he filled me completely.
I cried out, my back arching as he stretched me, claimed me. My nails dug into his shoulders, leaving marks on his skin as he withdrew and drove into me again.
