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I can feel the heat pouring from him, and the way his eyes are sliding over me. Damn it feels like he’s undressing me with his eyes. Clearly, I’m projecting the way I feel.
“What is it tough guy?” I whisper in reply, taking in the mottled bruis
ing on his face and his split lip.
“You’re taking care of me,” he groans in pain again and I’m clearly not thinking straight, why else would I drop a kiss onto his bandage.
“What are you doing?” He asks and looking up at him through my lashes may not be the best idea, but my head isn’t functioning at full capacity right now.
“I don’t know, but as a kid I always had my bruises kissed to make them feel better,” man I’m lame, but he’s smiling so it’s worth it.
I drop another kiss across his ribs and my eyes fill with tears as I kiss along the finger marks encircling his neck. Pulling back, his eyes connect with me instantly and I don’t know what to do. Kissing his face may be a little too much, wouldn’t it?
“My cheek hurts,” he says with a croak and I watch as he points out the area.
I can feel my eyebrows rising on their own accord as I drop a kiss on his cheek. He then points to his eyebrow where his skin has pulled apart, so I drop another kiss before applying butterfly strips to keep it closed enough to heal.
“Anywhere else?” Damn my voice, does it have to sound husky right now, it is neither the time nor the place.
“There is one more place,” his eyes are the most intense I’ve ever seen as he places his finger against his mouth. Eyebrows meet hairline.
H looks away and he looks like I’ve rejected him, but how was I supposed to know he was being serious? Placing both my hands on his face to cup his cheeks, trying to be mindful of the bruising, I keep my eyes on his. He looks as terrified as I feel, lowering my face closer to his and placing my mouth against his.
He hisses at the contact, but his fingers are sliding into my hair as his eyes fall closed and he deepens our kiss despite the pain.
It’s hard, unforgiving and damaging but it’s also home. It feels as if we should always be connected, kissing and touching. Does he feel the same way I do or is he simply seeking solace amongst the pain that he’s feeling?
Pulling back to sit on my heels beside him, he’s trapping my hand in his and interlocking our fingers. I can’t stop staring down at them, our joined hands and his tumultuous eyes.
“Woman, let me make you mine,” he says, leaving my mouth hanging open and I can’t form a coherent sentence. All I can think about right now is his injuries and how he shouldn’t be thinking about sex.
“But... you hate me,” looking off to the side as I rub the back of my neck, I feel so confused.
“For the smartest girl I know, you say some really stupid shit. That is far from what I feel for you,” his hand cups my chin and pulls me closer until the tips of our noses are connecting lightly.
“You’re hurt,” I’m lacking all kinds of conviction as my fingers trail around the back of his head and lightly pull at the hair lying on the nape of his neck.
“Woman, I would go through it all again to have you looking at me like this. You’re worth everything,” his stare is intense, and I feel stripped bare under the heat of it. He sees me for who I am and he accepts me. Our mouths crash together, and his hiss of pain turns to moans of pleasure as I lean over him, straddling his waist.
“I’m not in tip top condition for this to go the way I’ve pictured, but I’ll make it up to you,” he breathes against my lips as his hands move over my arse and massage my flesh.
I climb off and I should win a medal for how fast I remove my top and trousers, before resuming my position.
“Fuck, woman,” he’s staring at me with so much lust and desire I fear I may spontaneously combust.
“I need to be inside you, but I promise it won’t be quick next time,” he says thickly as his fingers pushes my thong to the side and he slips one inside as I circle my hand around his cock.
We move in rhythm until we’re both panting and I pull away enough that his finger slips out, leaving me feeling empty until I push down against his tip and his groans match mine as I push him in deeper. I’m clean and covered and despite knowing better, I want to feel him bared to me.
He’s cupping my face, which I am more than happy to lean into while grinding my hips slowly. I’m so scared that I’ll hurt him more, I don’t dare move too hard or fast but it doesn’t matter. I can tell by his face that he’s as close as I am and as we reach our apex and fall over the cliff together, all I can think is if this is oblivion, can I just stay here. With him.
ROXIE PAID for us to have two days here, I have no idea how I can ever pay her back. I haven’t even spoken to Harrison about what happened and that was yesterday, what am I doing? He keeps looking at me, but he isn’t saying anything either.
“We should head back to Roxie’s and get our things, she hasn’t seen hide nor hair of Dante but she doesn’t exactly know who she’s looking for,” I’m burying my head in my hands, I wonder if he can hear me.
“Henleigh, we’re going to run out of places to hide,” his hand is running along my back and all I want to do is sink into him and steal some of his warmth for myself. I feel ice cold inside, even if it is twenty-three degrees in here.
“I know, but what if he hurts her? He set fire to my house, and we barely made it out. I can’t have any more lives ruined because of me,” I’m shouting and I know I shouldn’t, but what else can I do? I’m falling apart at the seams and I’m struggling to put myself back together again.
