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“IReallyWishIHatedYou”—Blink182
“Ogun,” I tried to reason with him. “You can’t want to tie yourself to me simply because you think it will save me from something that may or may not happen. How do I know that the information you somehow acquired is accurate?”
“Because it was my club that was approached to do the job.”
If I wasn’t freaked out before, that did it. Fear seeped in around me, nearly smothering me. “Excuse me? Why in the hell would you be contacted for that?”
He heaved a heavy sigh. “That’s club business.”
“Club business?” I asked with a raised brow as I tried to push back out of his arms. Except he held me tight.
“Yeah. Club business. That means, for your safety, I can’t discuss it with you or anyone who isn’t a brother. It’s nothing personal.” His hand smoothed my hair and tried to comfort me.
“Hmm,” I said as I shook in his arms. Though I wasn’t ready to let it drop, I had a feeling I wasn’t getting anything else out of him. Not that I liked it, but I let it go for the moment. Swallowing down my fear, I asked, “What exactly does it mean to get your mark?”
He bit his lip, and I watched as his pupils nearly took over his eyes as his nostrils flared slightly. If I wasn’t mistaken, that hard rod pressing into me got significantly thicker.
“It means that you get tattooed.”
“I’ve never gotten a tattoo,” I admitted nervously. “I’ve always wanted one, but never knew what I wanted.”
“Oh, believe me, I noticed. The thought of my mark being the first ink on your silky skin is enough to make me want to bend you over the counter.” His voice was husky with need, and I seemed to feed on his building desire.
“I might not object to that,” I said in a breathy voice I barely recognized. The pulsing of my core increased as I visualized him following through with it. Anything to get me out of this nightmare I seemed to have stepped into with both feet.
He actually growled as he lifted me up and over his shoulder. I let out a surprised squeal.
“Ogun!” He ignored me. “Voodoo!” He smacked my ass, and I froze.
Before I knew it, he was setting me on the counter and his fingers were in the waistband of my pants. “Lift,” he ordered. Like a lost soul, I raised my ass as he tugged my pants and underwear down in one motion. The cool granite under me had me sucking in a startled breath.
Gripping the outside of my legs, he spread them and pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. With a sigh, I fell back to rest on my hands. He dropped to his knees, and his hot breath tickled across my wet slit.
In the back of my mind, I knew we still needed to talk about what he’d just told me, but with his hands and mouth strumming me like a guitar, I couldn’t collect my thoughts. When his lips latched on to my clit at the same time as he slipped two fingers into my dripping wet sheath, I fell further into the abyss.
“Oh God,” I gasped. He was relentless. It was both heaven and sweet torture. The sensation overload drove me to squeeze my legs together. Of course, he was having none of it and pushed them open with his shoulders. One hand continued to work its magic, stroking the spot that had me squirming and panting as the other splayed over my lower abdomen.
The feeling of building pressure caused my breath to hitch. Higher and higher it blossomed and expanded until I exploded in a blast of pulsing energy. My chin dropped to my chest as my body folded into itself and rode the waves of bliss. On and on, he drew it out until I was left reeling in the lingering aftershocks of the most powerful climax I’d ever experienced.
He stood, wiping the glistening evidence of my orgasm off his face with the back of his hand. His eyes were heated, and I could’ve sworn I actually saw a flicker of a flame within their icy depths.
“Absolutely stunning view,” he murmured with a wicked twist of his lips.
Leaving my pants on his kitchen floor, he lifted me off the counter, carried me down a hall, and placed me reverently on the bed. Languidly, I watched him undress. With each inch of his beautiful body he exposed, my heart surged until it was nearly bursting.
Tattoos were scattered along his tanned skin, and I wanted to trace each and every one of them. He had said I was stunning, but he was a masterpiece.
Like a beast of prey, he moved onto the bed and up my body. My breath froze. Muscles rippling, he stalked me. Only when he hovered over me could I inhale.
Nudging into my slick opening, he made two shallow strokes before plunging deep. We both gasped as he pushed in the final inch, and I could feel his shaft stretching me in the most perfect way.
“Fuck. If I could stay here for the rest of my life, I’d die a happy man,” he groaned into my mouth as he pressed his lips to mine. With each thrust, his body owned mine. The world outside our little bubble ceased to exist. The only thing I was cognizant of was the glide of sweat-slick skin against skin. Sensation was my closest friend.
Our love song was soft gasps and needy groans.
“Yes,” I whispered as I clung to him.
There was nothing rushed, allowing for crystalline focus on every movement. My tongue devoured the salty taste of his skin. My senses were filled with the unique, carnal scent of our coupling. There was no him, nor me. There was only us. One body, one heart, one mind.
How he maintained that slow, steady assault on my being, I couldn’t fathom. But I sure as hell drank it in and allowed myself to drown in the ecstasy that he summoned.
I’d never been so amazed and complete in all my life.
And as he gave his final forceful strokes within me, my back arched and I became whole.
Crazy as it may sound, it was like realizing I’d been stumbling around in life with half a heart. Barely living. In his arms, with his trembling body cocooning mine and his beautiful lips dotting soft kisses on my skin—I was alive.
But for how long?
