Broken Wings (Dark Legacy #1)

Beck took his time before answering. He held my gaze as he stripped off his boxer-briefs and rolled on the condom—almost like he was daring me to break eye contact and ogle his junk.

I mean, obviously the second he glanced away I took a long, hard look. It’s what any female would do in my position.

The mattress dipped as he knelt on it, nudging my legs wider so that he could take the space between them. Space I was all too damn willing to relinquish to him—and his ogle-worthy erection.

Instead of just pouncing on me and jabbing around with his dick until he found the right hole—thanks Nathan for that experience—Beck took his damn time, kissing me like I was his queen, tangling his tongue with mine and imprinting the memory of his lips into my brain as sure as carving it in stone.

Right when I feared I’d come just from his damn kissing—I was starting to think his tongue was scary talented—his fingers ventured south of the border. Not that I needed any further prepping thanks to the mind-blowing orgasm he’d already delivered, but he still stroked his fingers in and out of me a few times before replacing them with the broad tip of his cock.

“Fuck yes,” I groaned in encouragement, tilting my hips up and silently begging for more. He was teasing me, and he damn well knew it.

“I think I’d like to hear you beg, Butterfly,” he murmured in that husky, seductive voice that should have been illegal. “I think I’d enjoy hearing you tell me what you want.” Only his tip was inside me, which showed a level of self-restraint that was so typically Beck.

“Sebastian,” I growled, turned right the fuck on and also stubborn as hell. “I’m not playing your bullshit games. I’m not going to lie here and beg you to fuck me. I won’t ask you to sink the rest of that gorgeous cock inside me, to fuck me hard, fast and deep until I’m hoarse from screaming your name. I certainly won’t ask you to flip me over and fuck me from behind while you pull my hair and whisper in my ear with that orgasmic voice of yours. I simply, won’t do it.” I grinned as I said this, watching his pupils dilate with a need equal only to my own. My words pushed him over the edge of control, and I knew we were done playing games.

Slowly, deliberately, he sank deeper inside me as he held my gaze prisoner with his hooded eyes. One hand cupped my cheek, and for a moment, I felt like I was seeing the real version of him. The one with hopes and dreams, with softness and light inside him. The one who desperately wanted—needed—to be loved. But as soon as I saw it, it was gone.

He broke our intense stare down as he became fully sheathed within me and I groaned with satisfaction. Satisfaction and pure need.

“You know what to do,” I teased, whispering in his ear as he paused with his forehead against my neck.

His head raised back up, and that vulnerable version of him was gone like it had never existed. Sebastian Roman Beckett, king of Ducis Academy, lead heir to a global corporation, and all round playboy asshole was back. And more than ready to deliver on what I’d not begged for.

By the time I screamed my way into my second orgasm, I was already questioning my own sanity. Not for the obvious—why the fuck I was screwing this dickhead who was making my life into an invisible prison—but for the fact that I was never going to get over this. How in the fuck was I going to be able to date “regular” guys after experiencing all that Beck had to offer?

Ugh. I was so screwed. Literally and figuratively.

Beck didn’t even wait for me to finish riding out the aftershocks this time. Instead his strong hands grabbed me by the waist and flipped me over. His grip dragged my ass straight up in the air while I scrambled for balance, and he thrust straight back into my tight, spasming pussy.

“Fucking shit, Butterfly,” he groaned, pausing for just a second and allowing me to find a comfortable way to balance without hurting my broken arm. “Every now and then,” he murmured, so quietly I wondered if he was talking to himself, “I think Catherine brought you here to test me.”

His hands gripped my hips so hard I knew I’d have even more bruises in the morning. I fucking loved it. I still rode the lingering shocks of my last orgasm, and he was already fucking me hard and fast, his skin slapping against me with a delicious smacking sound that I never wanted to forget while his breathing grew ragged.

Beck released one of my hips, reaching forward and gathering my long hair in his fist before yanking my head back to an angle that danced the line between pleasure and pain. Exactly where I loved it and exactly where my vanilla ex, Nathan, had been too scared to go.

“If you really are a test,” Beck growled, his pace increasing in speed and force. “It’s one I’ll happily fail.”

My center was already throbbing and clenching, warning me of a third impending climax—a serious record in my book and not something to scoff at—even as Beck released my hair and slipped his hand under me to toy with my clit.

This time when I came, my screams harmonized with Beck’s panting groans as he joined me in sheer ecstasy.

My body must have been in shock or something, because as we both collapsed onto the bed in a boneless heap, I blacked out for a few seconds. Or maybe that was my brain short circuiting from the insanely good sex. Either way, I was fucking wrecked.

For an indefinite amount of time, we just lay there. Our naked, sweaty limbs entwined and our bodies heaving as we panted together. Eventually, though, I needed to wriggle out and run to the attached bathroom to pee. It was a girl thing, I was so sure.

As I returned to the bed, I eyed the pile of metallic wrapped packets on the bedside table, then noticed the sly, wolf-like grin on Beck’s stupidly handsome face.

Fuck sleep. It was way overrated anyway.





16





Sunlight warmed my face, rousing me from what had been a deep, dreamless sleep. For a split second, that moment before reality and dreamscape clash, I forgot the nightmare that was my life. I forgot that I’d lost my parents, and had found myself in a scary world that would probably be the death of me. For that moment, everything was okay, and I was a normal chick ready to take on the world.

Then reality smashed that moment to pieces.

Opening my eyes, I blinked up at the unfamiliar ceiling above me. Fuck. I was still at Beck’s.

Barely daring to breathe, I slowly rolled to my side, and when I saw the bed was empty, I let out a low gasp of relief. What the hell was I thinking?

I just lost my mind whenever he was close by, and no matter how much of an asshole he was … how much he scared a part of me … a larger part was addicted to the rush in my blood when he was near.

And I had slept. For the first time since the crash, I’d closed my eyes and there hadn’t been death.

It couldn’t happen again though. Pulling myself from the bed, I glanced down at my nakedness before looking around to find my clothes. It took me ten minutes to track them down, and my panties were completely torn, so I just tucked them in the pocket of my robe.

Once I was dressed, I poked my head out the room and was relieved to find that there was no one in sight. I barely remembered the path we’d taken last night to reach that room—I was going to assume it was not Beck’s actual bedroom because I remembered Evan saying he never let chicks sleep in his room.

I made it undetected to the front door, and was thankful that it was unlocked and had no alarm as I strode out and hurried to my golf cart. Firing it up, I tried not to think of myself as a coward, but as I took off I was almost certain I’d never slammed my foot quite so hard to the floor.

I’d fucked Sebastian Beckett. Like … I could number the amount of guys I’d slept with on one hand. Dante was an intimidating best friend, and I had standards. So this was not a normal thing for me.

This was a big fucking deal.