I close my eyes, and he’s there—Nelson, his hands rough but comforting, pinning me to the bed, his lips hot against my throat. “You’re mine, stranger,” he growled, his voice a whisper that sent shivers down my spine, his fingers tracing the curve of my hip, teasing until I arched, begging. His mouth claimed mine, fierce, possessive, and when he bent his face over my pussy. it was raw, consuming. my nails raking his hair as I gasped his name. The memory burns, my skin flushing, my breath hitching...