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I could hear the sorrow in the way he said my nickname. The need bubbling up between us had to wash that away for now. I wouldn’t end up a blubbering mess this last time.
No, that was for later.
For when it was just me and the shower washing the last of him away.
I closed my mouth over his, swallowing whatever words he would try to give me. The apologies, the platitudes, even the words of love that slipped from him so easily.
His fingers gripped my ass, dragging me closer. As if he could swallow me whole. Our tongues tangled and the sting of teeth came from both sides. His mouth moved down my neck to the loose front of my shirt. He dragged at it to get it off, to get it open and us skin to skin.
We both twisted at clothing as he walked us over to my bed.
It seemed like forever since I’d seen my bed. That we’d seen it together. Days had been a blur of studio work and painting. Of stolen moments and then...the other.
The hell that his mother had brought down on all of us.
He tried to be gentle as he laid me down in the twist of sheets that still smelled of us from the last time we’d done this. Of the woodsmoke and coconut blend we both wore now.
I dragged my shirt the rest of the way off and then helped him with his. I pushed at his pants and my jeans. There couldn’t be anything between us. Nothing—not even air.
His mouth crashed down on mine even before his boots and pants hit the floor. I heard the thud of them distantly, but his teeth were too busy tugging at my nipple until it throbbed.
I glanced down at him. He was staring up at me with the tip in his mouth. As he sucked until the edge of pain hovered before he released it and licked me gently. Only to do it again with the other, then adding a bite and bruise at my belly, my hip. He left marks everywhere.
His marks.
The tiny star blooms of his teeth and strong pulls from his deft lips. Normally, I screamed at him for marking me. Hickeys weren’t my thing. I didn’t think I wanted to wear him longer than tonight.
But I was wrong.
Each little searing pain followed by a flood of gentleness broke me down until I was writhing under him. Until his mouth was on my pussy, driving me up and over with ruthless aggression and unending love.
I’d asked for this.
The harsh side of him, the fire and the untapped passion that twisted inside of him that he was afraid to let free.
The part of him I was afraid to face because it so completely mirrored the hidden one in me.
Why was it this man who made me face it?
Why couldn’t I keep it?
Tears blindsided me as I screamed his name. He held me down, made me take everything. Watched me with those storm-soaked eyes as his tongue and lips owned me.
I thought I’d have the upper hand here.
To control this thing he’d asked of me.
I should have known that would never happen. Not when it came to this man.
He didn’t stop until I was curled around his head, as I came up off the bed and grabbed him by the hair just to get his lips off me for a second. I dragged his mouth up to mine and tasted my release on his tongue.
I scrambled up until I straddled him and took him inside me.
Mistake.
I was too primed, too swollen and sensitive. Every ridge and vein felt huge inside me, from the flared head of his cock to the wide shaft that forced me to conform to him. I took him deep and his eyes went feral.
He loved to sink into me sweetly and softly. As if he had to protect me and love me with gentleness. It always took time to unlock the lust banging around in the cage of his heart.
