Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)

I squeezed my eyes closed and she kissed me more. Fevered hands searched my skin like she might find a weak spot. A way in. Access to what was buried inside.

“Lyrik,” she breathed as her hands trailed down over my shoulders. Her touch sent shock waves burning across my skin. Fingernails scraped down my chest before they were working at my fly.

And I felt fear slipping over me. Something haunting and dark. While everything else came alive.

A tortured contradiction.

But that’s what I craved.

The push and the pull.

I wanted. I wanted it all. Wanted to know every inch.

Her body. Her heart. Her mind.

Easing back an inch, I glanced up at her face, then I looked right back down, gaze intent on where I palmed her sex, watching as I pushed two fingers inside.

So fucking wet and warm and perfect.

Her walls clamped down and she arched off the bed. Her mouth parted on a silent moan.

Gorgeous.

Ripples of anxiety surged. I wasn’t ever going to get enough.

I rushed back to take more of that mouth.

That sweet, sweet mouth.

I kissed her and kissed her while I struggled to pump her slowly. To keep control when all I wanted was to let go. I wanted everything. Everywhere. All at once.

To consume and devour and lay all her fears and reservations to waste.

To take and take and take.

To give and give and give.

Delirium.

I let my hand go trailing back.

Fingers slick.

I pushed two into her tight, perfect ass.

I wanted there, too.

She jerked and I did the same, jumping back just in time to catch the fear in her expression. Those blue eyes had gone dark, the girl getting sucked back into that depraved place.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

What the fuck had I been thinking? Getting reckless with this girl? I should have known. And that tiny spec that was my conscious screamed I was making mistake after mistake. It screamed I was a sinner and selfish. That I was twisted and sick. And I knew right then I didn’t have the guts to let her go. Not yet. Not when she was this close. This close to being free.

Tears slipped free from the corners of her eyes, wet streams streaking down and disappearing into her hair, while my heart went frantic with regret and hate and the need to slaughter whoever had hurt her this way.

I wrapped her in my arms.

“Don’t leave me,” I murmured harshly, clutching her tighter. “I’m right here. It’s me, Blue. It’s me. Baby, you just have to tell me no. I’m not ever going to hurt you.”

But the way her eyes flicked all over my face? I already knew. I already fucking knew I was hurting her because I wanted to take everything and I couldn’t offer her the same in return.

She bucked up. The head of my dick poking out from the waist of my unclasped jeans rubbed against her. Still crying, she burrowed her fingers into my shoulders, as if she were transferring some of her pain over to me.

“Please…just…fuck me,” she begged.

That sick part of me? He wanted to. The part that wanted her so fucking bad I’d take everything and anything I could get. But instead I was kissing her again, murmuring “slow” at those red lips. Thanking God she was with me. That I hadn’t messed up so bad she was a curled up ball in the middle of the bed.

But this was what I did.

I found the little bits of good hidden behind a mask, sought them out, and brought them into the light.

Then I destroyed them with one crushing blow.

“I trust you,” she said, holding me tighter and rubbing her bare center against me.

Trust.

Motherfucker. I wanted to weep. I felt it. Emotion gripping my chest like I was being strangled. A noose around my neck.

Frantic, I pushed my jeans down to around my thighs, because I was just greedy enough to take a little more.

“Slow,” I struggled to say.

Slow. Slow. Slow.

I kept chanting it in my head. Even though she was begging for it, I knew Blue wasn’t ready for sex.

I was starting to wonder if I was. If I could handle her. Even though I was dying to sink into her.

I slid my bare cock against her, gathering all the slick desire coating her center, and clutched her shoulders while I rocked against her.

A small gasp escaped her. Confusion and desire.

I did it again, getting her closer because I couldn’t seem to get her close enough.

No. I never moved enough to fuck her, even though with one slip, I’d be home.

I just moved against her like some twisted fuck who needed to get off.

I made sure to drag back far enough so the ridge of my throbbing head flicked across her clit.

Our faces were a breath apart, our lips just touching, eyes wild and open and vulnerable.

And I rocked and rocked and rocked. Using up this girl who was supposed to be using me.

I was beginning to wonder who of us needed who.

“Lyrik.” She gripped me harder, pressing her tits to my chest as she tried to get closer.

“Let it go,” I whispered at her ear.

She shuddered below me when she did, nails breaking skin, the little pricks of pain the perfect conflict up against the pleasure that had my body wound up tight. Tighter and tighter.

So warm.

So wet.

Too much.

Fuck. Me.

Burning, agonizing bliss.

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