Broken Wings (Dark Legacy #1)

Not really waiting for him to change his mind, I tugged his shirt up and over his head to expose ... a body I definitely wasn’t ready for. Holy. Fucking. Shit. Was it even legal to be that ripped and sexy and have such perfectly placed ink?

“I think I just came,” I muttered, sweeping my eyes—and my hands—all over his body.

A sly grin crept over Beck’s lips, and I knew my foot in mouth comments were forgotten ... for now. “Not yet, but you will,” he promised, dipping his head back to my neck and kissing his way down to my chest. Deft fingers stripped me of the crop top I’d been sleeping in—big boob problems—tossing it aside and palming my breasts. Beck groaned, his breath warm against my exposed nipple. “You really do have great tits, Butterfly.”

His compliment reminded me of his little calling card, after I’d vomited in his Bugatti then passed out, but this time I grinned at the memory instead of being mad.

“Thanks,” I replied, hooking my legs around his waist and rolling us over—giving myself the dominant position. It wasn’t even subtle, this was a clear battle for supremacy even if it was a fun one. “You’re no slouch yourself. These tattoos are...” I trailed off with a noise of appreciation. My fingers traced the black ink designs before I gave over to my more primal instincts and ran my tongue across the geometric wolf on his chest. He indulged me for about half a minute, his hands busy with my naked breasts, before he turned the tables and flipped us again.

“I’m going to need you more naked than this,” he muttered, dragging his fingers into the waistband of my soft pj bottoms. He took his time peeling them down my legs, torturing me with anticipation before tossing them across the room. A curse slipped from his sexy mouth as he ran his rough hands back up my body. “You have no idea how often the sight of you like this has crossed my mind since Friday night,” he admitted, his voice gruff and needy. “You’ve been torturing me and you never even knew it.”

His fingertips brushed a little too hard across the purple-black splotches on my ribs, and I hissed. My whole body tensed, but he just stroked the injured patch before doing the same to the hand prints around my throat.

“Beck,” I breathed out on a frustrated sigh. “Are we fucking or what?”

His gentle hands stilled. He peered up at me, his eyes dark and glittering like the gateway to Hell or something. Instantly, I suspected that was the worst thing I could have said. Or was it the best? It was all a matter of perspective.

Either way, my question tore through his soft, gentle side like claws through tissue paper. His tongue ran across his lower lip, then without any warning his thumbs looped in the sides of my lace underwear and tore it clean off my body.

A shocked squeak escaped me as I gaped at him in equal parts fear and admiration. I’d read books where that happened but they were always some form of paranormal romance where the hero had extra powers. I had no clue it was possible in real life.

Beck took advantage of my open mouth, grabbing me by the back of the neck and claiming my lips in a rough, possessive kiss which left me panting and begging for more.

The bruises around my throat ached where he held me, but it was just adding to the whole fucked up situation. Once again, the idea I needed therapy crossed my mind because fuck me if the pain of his hands on my bruises wasn’t turning me on even harder.

“Beck...” I started to say, but my brain short circuited as his lips made their way down my body. He kissed lightly over my bruised throat and ribs, sucked at my nipples until I cried out, then dragged his tongue down my belly. His strong hands gripped my thighs, forcing them apart and I gave up even trying to reclaim dominance.

I was done. Done lying to myself that his alpha male bullshit didn’t push all my buttons in the best possible way. If he wanted to go down on me as a sign he was in charge, who the fuck was I to complain?

Dropping back onto the bed, I twisted my fingers in the thick sheets as Beck’s hot breath teased at my lady bits. He shifted his weight, freeing up one hand to use. He stroked his fingers across my flesh, playing with me before he followed with his tongue.

Hot spikes of sheer pleasure zapped through me as his mouth met my throbbing clit, and I moaned my encouragement. He knew what he was fucking doing, but there was no space in my brain for jealousy over his past lovers. It was just us now. Somehow, deep down, I knew this was different from his casual fucks. We were different.

“Fuck, Beck,” I panted, my hands coming to his head and gripping on tight while he slid two fingers inside me. It was the perfect complement to what his tongue was doing to my clit and nerve endings all through me started exploding with sensation. My hips bucked. I couldn’t work out if I was begging for more or begging him to stop, but who the fuck was I kidding? It didn’t matter when Beck was in charge.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I breathed in a lusty whisper, my back arching as his fingers fucked me in time with his mouth. “Beck, you asshole, I’m going to come way too fast like this.”

He didn’t stop for a second—fucker—but I could feel his smug grin against my pussy as he ramped up the intensity until I was crying out in climax. My thighs tightened around his face, and I needed to force myself to release him as my body shuddered and spasmed through that first, explosive orgasm.

In my defense, it had been too damn long since I’d come with anything other than my rabbit.

“Who says you’re only coming once tonight?” Beck seemed to fucking purr as he kissed my inner thigh then shifted off the bed. For a moment, he just stood there and stared down at me, and I had a fair idea of what he was seeing.

Long hair spread around me like I’d been in a hurricane, flushed cheeks, swollen lips, heavy lidded eyes. My chest was heaving, drawing attention to what Beck had dubbed “great tits.” My legs were still spread apart, and I thanked all sorts of Gods that I didn’t believe in, that I’d maintained my laser hair removal appointments in recent months. It had so been worth bussing tables at that shitty diner for a year to get the funds.

While he stared at me, I looked my fill of him. Without his shirt, and wearing only a pair of jeans, he looked like he’d walked straight off a Calvin Klein photoshoot. If Calvin was into the dark, dangerous, bad boy look. Actually, who fucking cared if Calvin liked it. Riley sure as shit did.

My tongue dragged across my lower lip as I watched his hands fall to his waistband, his fingers working his fly undone, and then the denim dropped to the ground. He still wore black boxer-briefs but they weren’t leaving much to the imagination.

The awe must have been as plain as day on my face, because that asshole smirked and grasped his impressive length through the fabric.

“Birth control?” he asked me in such a casual tone I could have sworn he just asked if I preferred hard or soft cheese.

“Excuse me?” I spluttered.

His smirk spread wider. “Are you on birth control, Butterfly? Although given that response I think I can guess the answer.”

Half pissed off at his cocky attitude and half shocked that he’d even thought to ask, I just shook my head. “No.” I cleared my throat. “I broke up with my ex months ago and with everything since my parents...” I took a deep breath, swallowing past the painful words then just shook my head again. “Taking the pill just hasn’t been on my radar.”

Beck just nodded, like it really didn’t bother him either way. He stepped over to his dresser and opened the top drawer, pulling out a handful of foil wrapped packets and tossing all but one of them onto the bedside table.

“Uh...” I eyed the extras with interest, then raised a brow at him. I was propped up on my elbows now, but still seriously in a bad position for sass. “Expecting company?” I asked with a small laugh. I’d been joking, but something triggered a dark, dirty part of my brain which I quickly stifled.