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“You’re not broken, Beck, and you never were. You have to forgive yourself, please.” I held my hand out to him, longing for him to come to me. “Please,” I repeated. Now, though, I wasn’t just asking him to forgive himself, but to help put out the fire blazing inside me. A fire I’d only ever felt for him.
He was intense, standing just outside the car, arms braced overhead against the doorframe. His gaze roved over me like he was trying to commit me to memory.
“Please.”
Please be with me. Please let me in. Please see yourself like I see you.
I didn’t know exactly what I was asking for, but Beckett did, because he moved. The atmosphere between us crackled with tension. The emotions from before, all our deepest and darkest secrets dragged out into the light, had heightened every sensation. Every breath felt electric, every brush of his body on mine was a shock. All my insecurities had spilled out, ugly and embarrassing. It should be pathetic, shouldn’t it? But it didn’t feel that way. Not at all. Instead, a weight had been lifted from me, and for the first time in my life, someone was looking at all my painful vulnerabilities and accepting them. He wanted me anyway.
He prowled across me on those powerful arms, and I knew I was in over my head. It was too late. I’d fallen for Beckett, andthere was no way back. I ran my hands up his arms, savoring the ridges of muscle. His body was a testament to strength to all who could see, but only I’d seen inside. Where the demons hid.
He lowered his body to mine, and I opened my legs to accommodate his hips. His lips found mine again, and I lost myself in his kiss. His hands cupped my face, rubbing over my cheeks, tugging my hair back. I felt like I was drunk on his touch, dizzy, clinging on for balance.
The fury had gone, but the urgency hadn’t. I needed him closer, and from the way he was pressing himself against me, he clearly felt the same way. His cock ground on my pussy, and it was frustrating how many clothes were in the way between us. I lowered my hand to his belt and tugged at it, not able to put into words exactly what I wanted. Beckett paused, his lips lightly brushing mine. His hand was tangled in my hair, cradling the back of my head to bring me closer. His other pushed my fingers off his belt and took over.
A wave of warmth enveloped me. The clink of his belt opening sent shocks of excitement crawling along my nerves. He shoved his jeans and boxers down but not fully off. There was no time. It was like we’d both die if we didn’t get closer to each other in that moment.
I still had on my damn pencil skirt from work, and Beckett easily shoved it up around my waist. I also had on pantyhose. A real mood killer. I lifted my hips, ready to try and kick them off, when a loud tearing sound filled the air. He’d ripped them apart with one hand, tearing out the middle and leaving the sagging remnants hanging around my thighs. Then, his fingers were on me, delving into my panties and sinking inside me. I cried out; the sudden intrusion of his thick fingers was too much and not enough at the same time.
My panties went the same way as the hose, ripped in two.
I brought my hips up, moving side to side to dislodge his fingers. He pulled back and stared at me, knowing exactly what I wanted, what I needed. My eyes were adjusted to the dark, and I could make out his features. He looked solemn and intense; the anger gone but the fire remaining.
He took his fingers from me and smoothed my wetness over his cock. I raised my hips, and he brought the head to my folds, rubbing the blunt tip up and down my slit.
No one had ever wanted me like he did.
I kissed him in answer, and he pressed inside. I lifted my hips closer, and he rocked, just inside me, letting my wetness gradually coat him, getting deeper each time.
The urgency was still there. I wanted him inside me and all around me. I couldn’t think about anything else.
That insistent need only intensified. The need to feel him fucking me. To be pinned down by his weight. To have my heart against his.
He picked up the pace, his hips snapping into mine. It was rough and wild, a claiming. There was no other way to describe it. This time, something was different. It was more.
“Cinderella, I can’t hold it. I’m gonna come, and there’s nothing I can do. You’re too tight. Too sweet. Too everything.”
He suddenly stopped moving and sat up, his cock slipping from me. I followed. He sat back against the seat, his cock long and wet, straining up his belly.
“Come and ride me, sweetheart. Let me make you come with me.” He guided me onto his lap.
He slipped inside me. I felt so full. I rocked, pleasure and a hint of pain spiraling through me.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful when you’re stuffed full of me.” His voice was a rasp. “I think we need to keep you like this as often as possible.”
His hand worked between us and found my clit. He strummed it as I rocked, and the pain disappeared, and only pleasure remained. Pleasure like no other.
I rose and fell unevenly. It wasn’t smooth, my movements jerky, but Beckett only urged me on. I’d never been on top before.
“Am I doing this right?” I wondered, bracing a hand against the roof of the car to steady myself.
“You’re doing it fucking amazingly. Nothing has ever felt so good. Take what you want, Evie. Do whatever feels good, I’m here…and I’m not stopping until you come.”
With his finger on my clit and his cock moving inside me, reaching all the places that curled my toes, it didn’t take long.
A rush of heat enveloped me, the only warning before I came. I’d never felt anything like it. It wasn’t like when I’d come with his mouth or fingers on me, or the times we’d had sex with him on top. It was different. A heavy wave deep inside me, washing outward and taking me away.
I screamed and writhed and ground down on him. He thrust up into me, following just after, coming with a harsh growl. Sudden warmth filled me. He was coming inside me, and as always, it felt filthy and hot. My eyes were locked with his, andI saw everything he felt, all the good and bad and everything in between. I let him see me, too. There was nothing held back between us anymore. It was the most honest moment of my life. I palmed his cheeks, and he closed his eyes for a moment, seeming to savor that simple touch. I stroked my thumb down his scar, and we sat just like that. I had no idea how long. Everything inside me was still. Content.
