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We’re unfinished business. Always were, always going to be.
Something about that feels so broken and yet so poignant. We were never going to be perfect, but that was our own brand of poison. That was how we thrived. Hearing Beckett say it aloud gives true clarity to the type of love story we have.
Unfinished. Broken. Tarnished.
“You know I’m right.”
I’m yet to speak. Instead, I take in the sight of him.
He has more tattoos than I remember, his skin inked across his arms, bleeding into his hands, and I imagine his chest is smothered. I don’t know their stories, and part of me doesn’t care to know about the life he’s had without me, but curiosity is a killer, and another part of me needs to know.
“Tell me you don’t want it.”
I don’t reply the way he wants.
“You’d still take me anyway.”
He snickers, nodding in agreement. “Spread them.”
It should’ve been a request, but it felt like an ultimatum, and I obey.
He smirks as my satin chemise rides higher on my thighs and he notices I’m not wearing panties.
“You still have that kink, I see,” he mutters. “Or is this just for me?”
I shrug, bringing a finger to my lip, deciding to play coy. I don’t want him to have the satisfaction that I did this only for him because, outside of London, I’m not an easy lay, but in his city, I would do everything in preparation for our inevitable meetings.
“Cat got your tongue, Natalia?”
“I’m just waiting patiently. Get on with it, Beckett.”
Slowly, he drops, not missing a beat, disappearing between my legs before I feel familiar lips on the inside of my thigh, pressing kiss after kiss as he moves upwards. My fingers clench the bedding at the feel of his tongue on my clit, drinking me in a way I forgot existed. My hips buck, and my legs begin to close, desperate more for, anxious to feel him deeper. He reciprocates, his hands coming to my hips, pulling me in with a bruising force. Arching my back in pleasure, I grab the top of his head, clinging to his hair as my orgasm builds and I feel myself starting to fall apart. As a moan passes from my lips, he draws back, leaving my body hanging on the precipice of ecstasy.
“What the hell?” I pant.
“Fuck, I can’t,” he says, gazing down at me. “I shouldn’t.”
His dark eyes lay heavily on me, my breathing a pant of want, but I don’t speak. I want him to lead this, to think I’m his wholeheartedly from one chaste moment of eating my cunt as greedily as he did.
“I thought you were king now? You never used to second guess a good fuck.”
I’ll mock his position. I’ll cuss him down because I knew Beckett before the shit hit the fan, and seven years may have passed, but deep down, he knows I know him best.
The sound of his belt buckle rings out, answer enough, and he’s quick to unbutton his trousers, pushing them partially down his legs.
He pulls me in, slamming into with me such force I gasp in sheer pleasure. My body becomes alive, remembering the feel of his cock in me, but unable to comprehend all at once. Beckett doesn’t allow me a reprieve, nor does he allow my body to find its bearings and adjust to the sheer size of him before he withdraws until the tip of his cock is about to completely leave me empty, only to slam into me again, harsher and harder than ever.
My eyes flutter shut, unable to deal with the amount of adrenaline he’s fuelling into my body.
His hand clamps down on my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“Don’t you dare close your eyes, darling girl.”
His hand wraps around my throat, my windpipe suffering, but I don’t struggle. Even after everything, I have trust in Beckett, but I know it’s only because this isn’t how he wants to end it. This is too secluded, too intimate for him to make it final.
This is his final warning to me.
He’s reminding me of everything we were and everything we could have been with each stroke of his cock. As my pleasure mounts, my body beginning to lose itself to him, he hastens his speed. My walls start to clench around him, and he pulls me up into his grasp. This time, he doesn’t deny me an orgasm. He pushes me completely over the edge, my body wrapped in his as he comes moments after, his touch tight, his body hot. Slowly, he lowers me to the bed and starts to fully withdraw, but I stop him, my hands coming to press on his chest.
