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His tongue left her, and she panted, longing for more. Longing for the delicious pressure that had accompanied the thickness of his tongue. He brought his lips back up her body, licking similarly enthralling circles and following them with his fingertips. She felt the goosebumps arise at his touch, and he finally made it to her throat, his lips working harder than before, drawing pants of need from her.
His cock trailed up her leg at his movements, finally alighting with her as he moved his fingers around her neck in the same places as he kissed.
Only when his lips moved, his hand remained.
He thrust himself hard into her, and she sucked in a gasp, the fill of him thoroughly obliterating all thoughts. He used the hand he had placed around her throat to squeeze lightly, and she moaned, the sensation sending more pulsing satisfaction into her pussy. She’d never imagined the feel of a man’s hand around her throat to turn on her so thoroughly, but it had that effect. He squeezed lightly, just enough to give her a headrush before releasing the pressure.
He thrust himself into her again, slower and in a motion that had her gasping. The ache transformed into a pleasure that wracked through her with a vengeance, drawing loud moans from her lips as he slammed into her, breathing hard. The hand on her throat pulsed harder, and she pulled at the restraints on her wrists as she cried out in pleasure. The way he controlled their position and the trust he’d instilled in her with nothing but a few words had her shouting his name into the dimming room until he dangled her on the edge of an orgasm with his thrusts and touches.
When she was moments from shattering, he gripped each of her hips and turned her body, lifting her so her ass stuck in the air. Her wrists had crossed over one another, but she felt nothing but the feeling of his moistened cock penetrating her from behind, and the sensation brought stars to her eyes as his finger worked around her clit and his other hand gripped her hair, tugging at the roots with enough force to draw a gasp from her.
God, her orgasm came faster and harder than it ever had. She panted and cried his name as he smacked her ass and thrust hard into her again and again.
He continued until she trembled from sensitivity and her voice rasped as she spoke.
He didn’t stop until his wet warmth covered her back. Until he’d found his release, just as she had.
She lay beneath him, panting for a long moment before he unclasped the belt from her wrists and wiped the proof of his orgasm from her back. She turned and watched as he tossed the tissues into a trash can beside his bed.
“What was that?” she asked, her voice still breathless and satiated.
He furrowed his brows, the low light coming through the window just enough to show her his uncertainty. “Are you okay?”
She gaped. “I’m more than okay.” She didn’t know how to admit to him that what they’d just done was the best she’d ever had. “Are you?”
Redmond didn’t respond as he looked out his partially curtained window. He couldn’t have been looking at anything specific, as his eyes darted around rapidly, never focusing for more than a second on anything. “No.”
Chelsea pulled herself up in bed, feeling the proof of their evening with the wet ache between her thighs. She caught the glimpse of her still-booted foot that rested on the bed, sharply contrasting the rest of her nude body. She hadn’t even considered those scars—that boot—the entire time he’d been atop her.
She knew why: He had scars too. Just as many of them. An entire arm full of burn scars, not to mention a bunch of smaller ones that salted his skin with different shades and textures. On him, the scars were beautiful.
“Before tonight, I wasn’t either,” she told him.
He jerked around and furrowed his brows.
“It’s not bad to need a distraction to get away from your demons, Redmond. I’m fine being your distraction if that’s what you want, but talking about them usually helps more,” she said. She wondered if his sexual fantasies were a manifestation of those demons.
“Talking doesn’t help mine.”
“Have you ever tried?”
Redmond faced her partially. His frame appeared hunched and devastated. She’d have never imagined that he’d exude such a heavy devastation, but after sex, his mask had entirely faded and transformed into his face of pure agony.
“Only once,” he told her. “Tell me about your demons.”
Chelsea felt exposed as she considered telling him about her most personal and dark secrets, but he’d been the one who witnessed the root of them, so it couldn’t be so hard, could it? She tugged at the blankets from his bed and pulled them over her as she leaned against the headboard. She prepared to expose herself emotionally, but in the process, she couldn’t be exposed physically, too.
“You were there. You know what they… What those men did to me. It was dark in the room, and I couldn’t see them coming. I haven’t been able to sit in darkness since that night. And these scars”—she gestured to the leg beneath the covers— “are ugly. I hate them. I don’t like when people ask what happened because I feel weak for letting it happen to me.”
She didn’t mention that when she closed her eyes at night, she had to hold onto an insignificant five-dollar stuffed toy to remind herself that she was out of the situation—that she’d never go back. Her therapist gave her the idea, and it worked wonders in helping her get to sleep. It was only when she woke from a dead sleep, a stuffed animal long fallen from her grip, when she had the most trouble.
“I was in Iraq. I lost my wife because of the PTSD,” he said. Chelsea widened her eyes. She had no idea that he was a veteran. “Then I met Claire and I learned to cope. And then she was shot and killed in front of me.”
“God,” Chelsea whispered, unable to stop the word from escaping her lips.
“Because I got hurt two months ago, my burns… deter me from going back into fires and doing my job. And the man who killed my Claire is out on probation. He called me today, and I reacted poorly in front of my daughter. My ex-wife won’t let me see her again. Not when I’m like this.”
The way he said this as if he stated a growing list reminded her of the way that she’d recite a memorized grocery list to herself in the store. He’d clearly thought it through. More than anything, it surprised her that he’d been willing to tell her about his trauma. Maybe it was because she meant nothing to him.
