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I arch my neck and curl my toes, the heavy pressure,right there,so good, throws me into an orgasm. He groans, feeling my pussy cling and massage his cock. The shakes take a hold of him, his muscles bunching to a steel-like density.
We come together, clutching at each other as though the world is trying to separate us, but we would rather lose limbs, sanity and air than let that happen.
As the sensation tightening our bodies dwindles, our kiss remains a boundless reconciliation against last night, our moans and groans straining with apologies and forgiveness, our breath exchanging in acceptance.
An endless time later, he pulls back, his thick, wet length sliding out from inside me. Anguish hits his gaze when I whimper at being emptied.
“Did they hurt you, Baby? Yesterday?” Bracing on his side, he reaches for my hand. He flips it over; a small bruise mars the surface of my wrist.
I don’t lie. I won’t lie to him again. “They pinned my hands down. I thought they were crushing my bones.”
He brings my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the bruise. “It’s not broken,” he says to the skin.
He’s up on his knees, straddling my thighs. “Where else did they touch you?” He’s naked, the long length of his body, damn near no body fat at all—stunning. He’s lethal and beautiful. And mine. “I want to know.”
I reach for my necklace, fiddling with the loops, wrestling with my need to protect him from the truth. “I’m going to tell you the truth. Always. But I need you to try to swallow the anger. For me.”
He nods.
“My breasts,” I admit quietly. “One of them squeezed me pretty hard. I’m okay, though. That’s the truth.”
Instead of losing his mind or perhaps hiding his anger in a jerk-like action, he dips down. He inspects my breasts with his adoring blue eyes then with the reverent touch of his tongue. Licking over the skin, he cups either side of the plush mounds, so they bunch around his face.
“I have to forgive you. Can’t not.” His breath is like steam on my soft flesh; I know he’s burying his anger in my chest. “Don’t break my heart again.” He sucks my nipple into his mouth, devouring the pebble until it is flushed and hot. He moves to the next one.
“Never.”
And I mean it.
* * *
It's hours later,but we haven’t left the bed. I’m on my side, hands tucked below my head, gazing at my messy lover as he sits on his phone with his spine to the headboard.
I stare at the tight lines across his forehead, the lush shape of his lips, and his square jaw that leads down to a thick neck. He’s too pretty and too virile all at once.
Ugh.
His level of gorgeous is predatorial—welcoming and stunning, each feature perfect and easy on the eyes. Approachable. Endearing.
Come closer…
Then he bites.
And I like the way it feels.
Xander is texting someone, and I feel the need to understand his furrowed brow and tight lips.
I nudge him. “So,who are you texting?”
“Clay.” He doesn’t look up from his phone. “He’s looking for those fuckers. We’ll find them, Baby. Don’t worry.”
I sigh, wishing it all away. Then it hits me—how did he know where I was?Chloe, I presumed, but maybe not... “How did you know where I was?”
His jaw muscles pulse. A warning. “We got a tip-off.” His focus remains on the phone. “Until we know more, I’m not involving you, Woman.”
Right.‘Cause I’m not involved already…
“Trust goes both ways,” he adds, flicking me a side-eye that’s undeniable. “You want me to trust you, Baby, start by trusting me.”
