Page 83 of Reckless Devotion

“You’re going to watch me fuck you, and you’re going to like it.” I pitch myself back up straight, and draw a calming hand down her spine, my other at her hip.

“Okay.” Her voice cracks, but no more tears appear and she traces her gaze hungrily down my body in the reflection, which I take as a positive.

I lock in, determined to take her to a place of empowerment and pleasure. “Ready?”

She groans, dipping her head for a moment without breaking eye contact. “Just fuck me already, will you?”

I don’t need any more encouragement than that, plunging into her and drawing out a long moan as I hit the end of her, repeating this again and again until we’re both mindless, our eyes locked and everything else in the world shut out.

“Chase!” she yells when I use both of my hands at her hips to slam into her, bringing her back into me at the same time, her ass cheeks rippling and my control fraying to thread.

Her desperate cry is a red flag to my bull, sending me charging ever closer to my orgasm, no matter how hard I try to hold it back. I slip one hand between her legs from the front, finding her clit and circling it with every mindless slam, a reckless devotion I’ve never felt flooding my veins and intoxicating every cell in my body.

She stiffens, her mouth open in a silent cry as her eyes scrunch shut and her own pleasure rips her away. Her body pulses around me, clamping and flexing in a way that drags me helplessly with her. We fall together, and there is nothing gentle about it. It’s violent and blinding, and like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Twist, snap, fall.

My vision goes black, and I gather her up close, burying myself mindlessly into her as I spill myself in long, grunting thrusts, her cries echoing alongside mine off the Italian marble tile surrounding us.

We both fall to the vanity, breathless and boneless, reeling in the wake of our explosive coupling. Her body trembles beneath mine, alarm coursing through the glaze of retreating bliss as they become stronger, turning into full-body racks.

I fling my eyes open and see her gasp in breath, tears flowing freely from squeezed shut eyes as she surrenders to a wash of emotion.

I instinctively gather her up, easing myself from her and turning her limp body around on the counter so that I can draw her into my arms.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stutters out breathlessly, her tears wetting my chest.

“You have nothing to apologize for, baby.” I stroke her hair and cradle her while she sobs, instinctively knowing that this isn’t about me, or what we just did, but rather a release of something she’s been carrying for a long, long time. “You’re safe here, let it out.”

Something in her calls to a place deep inside me, because like recognizes like, and in a small part of my soul that I’ve ignored for twenty-two years lies my own horror story waiting to be unpacked.

The one that prompted me all those years ago to adopt the joker persona that keeps anything too serious at arm’s length.

As I’m sucked back into the present, one thing rings clear as a bell through my mind, jarring and unavoidable: I’m falling in love with this woman, and there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it.

Chapter 30

Terrence Clay:Would you like to go out for dinner on Friday?

Chase:Are you finally asking me on a date?

Pepper:I think he is.

Sunny:Either that or he’s having a stroke.

Pepper:Mr. Clay, do you smell burnt toast???

Terrence Clay:Why would I smell burnt toast?

Sunny:It can be a sign of a stroke.

Chase:Sudden personality changes can be an early symptom of dementia, too. Maybe we should get him checked?

Pepper:Probably for the best.

Terrence Clay:Will you people stop misdiagnosing me like I’m not here and answer the question?

Pepper:I’m game.

Chase:I’ll be the one sitting by the bar in a red dress with a rose in my hair.