June – POV
His body pressed flush against mine, caging me between the rough, painted wood of the club's back door and the hard line of his chest. I could still feel my orgasm rippling through my thighs, but Justin wasn't giving me time to recover. He never did. Not when he got like this—when something dark and possessive snapped behind his eyes and he needed to finish what he started.
And God help me—I loved when he got like this.
"You're not going back in there like this," he muttered, voice gritty, hips grinding into my backside. "Not before I ravish you"
"No," I whispered, cheek pressed to the door, legs still weak from his fingers.
He pushed my skirt up to my waist in one swift move, baring my ass to the cool air, the alley dim around us. His hands gripped my hips, thumbs digging in.
"Hands on the door," he ordered, voice suddenly sharp.
