“Shhhh . . .” My breath against her smooth, wet flesh makes her shiver. I smile and use the flat part of my tongue to put pressure where she needs it most.
I devour her, making sure to feel her against my lips, raking my piercing against her sensitive skin, and enjoying the soft sounds that fall from her lips. More, deeper, I lift her hips to angle her body just right.
A surge of desire rockets through my veins. My eyes drop closed, and I imagine the warm silk on my tongue wrapped around my dick as I plunge into her body. I use my lip ring again, over and over against her until she’s writhing.
She moans and her stomach muscles contract. I’m in control, and yet it’s me who’s being tortured. So close, but not nearly close enough.
Her body reacts to every flick of my tongue and her chest jumps with rushed breath, every response driving away my demons. One more kiss to her aroused flesh and I pull back. She whimpers her protest. I pull a condom from my back pocket and pop the button on my pants.
She moans and throws her forearm over her eyes.
“Mac, baby, look at me.”
She drops her arm and meets my stare.
“I want you to watch.” It’s sick, controlling, and pushy, but I need to feel her eyes on me and stay locked in the hunger. I drown in her anticipation, the longing, desire; it keeps me focused on us and not on the shit that I’m fighting to keep in the dark.
I unzip my pants and push them down low enough to expose what she does to me. Keeping my eyes on her, I rip open the condom wrapper with my teeth and slowly sheath myself. Inch by inch I watch in fascination at Mac’s eyes on me. Want turns to need, and need turns to desperation.
With my dick in my hand, I stroke and she licks her lips. “Turn over.”
Her eyes dart from my hips to my face and her eyebrows pinch together. “But I want to see you.”
I’ve never done it face to face. I’m sure I could, eventually, but things are going so well I’m nervous to try something new. “Mac . . .”
“Please. I . . . it’s important to me.” She slides back and pushes up to her knees so that her position matches mine only a foot away. “I’ll keep my hands to myself or not talk, whatever you want, just . . . give me this?”
I’d give you anything.
“I’ll try.” My voice lacks the confidence it had earlier and she has to hear it. I run my hand down the side of her face, forking my fingers into her hair. “Come here.”
She sits up, pushes to her knees, and walks them closer until my dick presses against the softness of her belly. The heat, although muted through the condom, gives me a taste of what’s to come. I groan and flex my hips, eager to be inside her sweet body.
Tugging her to me, I tilt my head and cover her lips with mine. The combination of her taste still on my tongue and the wet of her mouth makes my stomach flip with the urge to fuck her raw, to pound into her until she cries out and begs me to stop.
No. Fuck!
I break the kiss and run my hand down to her breast to cup it before lowering my lips to it. She drops her head back and sighs, the sound so sweet I’m voracious for more. I’d steal for it, fight for it, and kill for it. I suck her nipple deep into my mouth and she gasps loudly. I squeeze my eyes closed.
I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t.
I won’t.
Back and forth between her breasts, I use my tongue, teeth, lip ring, and everything my mouth has to offer, against the tight pink tips. She leans back, her hands flying to my shoulders to stay upright. Her fingers bite into my flesh, holding on.
Holding me still.
Holding . . .
The back of my throat aches and my stomach lurches. I flinch, but mange to keep myself from shoving her away.
The evil pushes at the threshold of my mind, wanting to take this from me, destroy the good, and steal any chance I have at happiness.
I’m capable of more than I think.
I have to be, because the alternative isn’t good enough anymore.
Dragging my mouth from her breast, I hook the back of her neck and pull her up to support her own weight. Her eyes are hooded and her lips parted, midnight hair falls over her shoulders, veiling her milky white skin.
“Are you okay?” The concern in her whispered words brings the warmth of familiarity.
It makes no sense but feels so right. I smile and nod. “Nothing’s going to be the same after this.”
“God, Rex . . .” Her hand glides from my shoulder to my jaw and the fog of arousal clears from her eyes. She runs her thumb along my cheek with a look I’ve never gotten from another human being. “I hope you’re right.”
What is that look? I’ve seen it, the one Jonah gives Raven when she’s not looking and has her hand resting on the bump of their unborn baby. I’ve seen it on Layla when Blake’s dealing with Axelle, giving her advice or just shooting the shit. It’s not love; it’s more concrete. Tangible. Protected. Nothing in the world can touch it.