Her pussy was hot and soaked. I wasn’t even in her, and she was still the best thing I’d ever felt.
My dick strained. If I didn’t get inside this girl, I just might die.
But I knew better. Knew better. And I was going to give this girl one thing.
So I ate her up. Tongue and soul and teeth.
She writhed. Jerked and moaned. Little mewls, so good I thought I just might come.
Eden was gasping, her arms curling around my head. “Do you feel it?” she rasped.
Her spirit was all around her.
Her goodness in the air.
Her belief.
Her trust.
I did.
I fucking did.
I felt them all.
And I drove my fingers deeper. Stroking her just right until she was a bundle of nerves about to go off.
Winding and winding.
Girl riding higher.
Felt it when she split.
Her head flew back, and her heart raced wild, and her walls tightened and throbbed against my fingers.
On a moan, she whispered my name.
A dream.
A claim.
“Trent. Trent.”
And I could feel her goodness taking us whole. Whispers of a life like this.
A girl and a boy.
A boy who wasn’t dirty. One who wasn’t vile.
A man worthy of standing by her side.
That man couldn’t help from moving, kissing up over the fabric of her dress, riding higher.
Over her chest and up her throat.
Fingers in her hair and his mouth on her lips.
He kissed her.
Kissed her slow and desperate and with every little bit he had to give.
Soft strokes of tongues and a frantic plea of whimpers and groans.
Fingers sinking into his shoulders and a whisper on her soul.
“Trent.”
Trent. Trent. Trent.
Except that man didn’t really exist.
But maybe neither of us could recognize it right then.
Because Eden was kissing me back.
Her mouth making a path down my throat, hands under my shirt. She ripped it over my head.
Autumn eyes stroked me like a caress, her breaths shallow and jagged and her hands shaking when she brushed the statement tattooed on my side.
Ghost.
Her gaze flashed to mine in some kind of recognition.
The man I could never leave behind.
And I swore it was trust and affection that lit the room when she slid off the bed and onto her knees.
I held her by the sides of that unforgettable face. “Baby…not necessary…you don’t owe me a thing.”
But she was at my fly and shoving my jeans down my hips, cock twitching like a fiend when it sprung free and she took me in her hand.
“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured as she looked up at me.
Somehow it was the same for the both of us.
Maybe for a beat. For a second. That’s the way I felt beneath the grace of those giving eyes.
She stroked me soft. Timid. I hissed and curled my hand tight around hers.
“Like it hard, Kitten,” I grunted. “You don’t need to be shy. Not with me.”
Eden whimpered, kissed down my chest and over my stomach.
And I was gone.
My hands on the side of her head and my dick buried deep in her throat.
Fucking drowning in the sanctuary of her mouth.
And I didn’t ever want to come up for air.
Fifteen
Trent
Los Angeles – Eighteen Years Ago
“Cutter, let him go. You can’t do this.”
His mother raced out behind them where his dad dragged him by the neck of the shirt toward the truck parked at the curb. The blood in Trent’s veins pounded so hard. He felt it in his ears. In his chest. His stomach sick.
It’d been so long since his dad had come there, he’d thought maybe he was gone for good. No longer comin’ around makin’ his mom cry. His mom who said he wasn’t welcome. That she didn’t want nothin’ to do with his bad, bad life.
His dad spun around, in her face, growling the words. “The fuck, I can’t. Know your place, woman.”
Trent’s mom blanched and turned red all at the same time, her worry wrapping him in dread, her green eyes washing over him like she would be willing to fight to get him freed.
“My place? I never agreed to any of that nonsense, and I sure as hell am not gonna stand by and let you drag my son into that mess.”
Trent’s chest felt funny. Like it was buzzing and full and going to explode. Like his hands were tingling with anger.
His dad shook him. “About time this boy learned some respect. All of ’em. Get where they’re goin’. Who they are. We start with him.”
Trent flailed and tried to break away. “Let me go. I don’t wanna go nowhere with you.”
His dad smacked him on the back of the head.
His mom raged, pushed forward. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on him.”
Trent’s dad had his mom by the throat.
Trent wanted to weep.
To fight.
His throat locked up and moisture filled his eyes.
But he couldn’t do anything but stand there frozen while the monster hissed, “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want. Should have ended you long ago, bitch. Think you can talk to me like that? Get a say in what I do with my boys? They might live here, but they belong to me. You got it? You’re lucky I let you breathe.”