One hand slid from her face to the back of her neck so I could control the kiss, while the other took a path down her front.
Hand palming one perfect tit, my thumb stroking over the hard, peaked nub of her nipple, swirling it and making her arch and moan.
“How? How? I don’t understand,” she mumbled, nearly incoherent as she pressed herself closer, and a growl was rippingfree as I was assaulted with a lust unlike anything I’d ever known.
Piercing as deep as a bullet.
It was something that verged on deranged. A tipping point that once it spilled over, we both were going to drown.
My hand kept traveling south, gliding down her side and to her hip.
I palmed the outside of her thigh, using the leverage to rock against her, tiny sparks lighting up behind my eyes.
Greed taking me over, I edged back an inch so I could glide my hand under the thin fabric of her dress.
Dress that was pushed up high, exposing the silken tops of her lush legs.
Sight of it was enough that I nearly came in my pants. My mind lost.
All fucking rationale and purpose and knowledge of who I was evaporating in a beat.
Guts knotted in need, I brushed my fingertips over her soaked panties.
I couldn’t wait until I got to fully sink inside.
Fuck the consequences and the promises I had made. Let my crew shove my head under a guillotine.
I pushed her underwear aside.
Brinley suddenly flinched, and every molecule in her body froze for a flash.
I didn’t know how I recognized it through the haze of lust that saturated the air, but I did.
I recognized it like a smack across the face.
Like another mark slashed into my soul.
Her hands that had been grappling to get closer tightened in a way that told me she was trying to keep herself grounded.
To keep herself from spiraling into a place she was terrified to go.
Sucked back into a darkness that threatened to swallow her whole.
I wanted to go on a rampage. Demand that she make me a list.
A list of names of every single person who’d ever hurt her so I could eradicate the stain of them from the earth.
Panting, I checked myself, framing her face in my hands and trying to slow the haphazard pounding of my heart.
“Brinley,” I grunted, her name jagged shards of glass.
In restraint, I rocked my forehead against hers.
Her eyes were still closed tight, hands steel bands where they were bound in my shirt.
She only squeezed her eyes tighter, her words thin rasps. “Don’t stop. I don’t want to hurt anymore.”
“And it would kill me to hurt you, and I refuse to be one of the bastards who has.”
