“It was—” An accident.
“No.” He stopped me and brushed the pad of his thumb across my lower lip. “You can call me that. You can call me whatever the hell you want, and I’ll always answer.”
“If it reminds you…” I began, and he shook his head.
“It reminds me of who I am to you. Only you.”
“Only me,” I echoed and went back for more of his lips.
This time, he kissed me back, his palms sliding over my jaw and holding. I smiled a little inside when he rubbed at the stubble and groaned.
The next thing I knew, he was holding my head and dragging his teeth down my jaw and kissing across my neck. I tossed my head back to give him better access as he sucked at the skin and made me moan.
The sound seemed to snap him out of his trance. His body stiffened and pulled back. My eyes sprang open, disappointed at the absence of his lips.
“Shit,” he swore and pushed my head back so he could stare at my neck. He grunted. “No mark.”
“That’s disappointing.”
Trent frowned. “I’m not gonna mark you where everyone will see.”
“Right. ‘Cause you don’t want people to know you love me.” My voice was bitter, and I pulled away from him.
“I don’t want you to be punished for this.” His voice begged me to understand.
My heart refused.
I shoved off the bed and paced the room. How easy it was to forget tomorrow. How easy it was to live in denial.
How easy it was for reality to come back and rip everything away.
Frustrated, I swung around. “I wanted that mark,” I said angry. “I wanted something of you. Something I could look at…” My voice trailed away, and I shook my head.
“Something what?” Trent pushed.
I turned away.
“Something of me that would be here when I leave?” The pain in his voice was as real as the stuff building in my chest.
“Maybe,” I whispered but didn’t turn around.
“Come here, Forrester.” The commanding tone in the words was almost undeniable.
I looked over my shoulder at him. I didn’t see the bruises and the Band-Aids. I didn’t see his scraped knuckles or the smear of red beneath his lip (guess I kissed him a little too hard).
All I saw was the look in his eyes.
I rotated, stepping toward the bed.
“Lose the shirt,” he ordered.
With one hand, I yanked it over my body and dropped it at my feet. The second my knees made contact with the mattress, he moved. Without thought to his injuries, Trent palmed my waist and pushed me down. I didn’t fight him one ounce, so it didn’t cost him much strength.
Strong, defined thighs straddled my hips, and when his weight sank onto me, I bit back a groan because my cock was hard and the pressure of his body was heaven.
“Where do you want it?” he rumbled, dragging his fingers down my chest and across my sides.
“What?” All my attention was on his chest, his wide, strong shoulders.
He pinched my nipple lightly and rolled it around between his fingers. I groaned and arched up slightly, totally lost now. I had no idea what the fuck he was asking me, and I didn’t care.
“Here?” he asked, trailing a finger along my hipbone. “Or here?” He gave my nipple another tug.
I made an incoherent sound and shut my eyes.
The nipple was still a hard pebble, tingling with desire when he let go and trailed up a short distance. “No,” he whispered. “I think here.”
Trent’s big body came down, pinning me against the bed, and his lips locked onto my chest. On my pec, not far from the nipple he’d been teasing before.
At first, he swirled his tongue over the flesh and dampened it, kissing softly, and nibbled at the skin. Then the pressure increased as he sucked the entire spot into his mouth.
He was giving me what I wanted.
Both my hands locked onto his head. My fingertips dug into his scalp, and I pushed his face deep into my chest as he sucked.
“Don’t stop,” I growled, taking it all, even the tinge of pain when he obeyed and went deeper.
It was so satisfying, his mouth on me, knowing when he lifted his head, I would have a mark of where he’d been. I emptied my mind and just felt the pressure of him sucking, felt the pleasure/pain combination with soul-tingling emotion.
“Right there,” I whispered and arched into him more.
I didn’t want him to stop, but he did. Not all at once, but gentling so it was just a soft kiss before lifting his head.
“More, T,” I demanded, refusing to let go of his head.
He chuckled briefly against my skin but then pulled back. “You’re going to have a bruise for a week, man. No more.”
It wasn’t enough.
Trent pushed up off me, his body stiff, his movements controlled.
“Fuck,” I swore. I was supposed to be taking care of him right now, not demanding shit.
“I’m fine.” He started to laugh, but it turned into a gasping kind of cough.
Quickly, I slid out from beneath him and wrapped an arm around his waist, offering to take some of his weight as he settled back against the pillows.
“I’ll get more ice,” I said once he was still, and I reached for the towel.