Sonata (Butcher and Violinist 2) - Page 119

Thank God, she didn’t complain. Nothing could be helped. For the rest of the year maybe more, she would be by my side. Everyone would have to get used to it. I would not leave her alone again.

She’d been more than bruised. She’d been battered. The lab tests wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.

What did they give her?

There were other things to consider too. She’d been closed within darkness for hours. What had that done to her mind? How could I help her? Someone in this world would give me the answers.

What does she need?

Her bandaged hand rested on my stomach. Not broken, but badly sprained. Dr. Martin wanted to do more. She’d refused, not wanting to be touched by anyone but me, not feeling comfortable with anyone else around.

Terrified. She knows I can’t keep her safe.

I closed my eyes. My chest stiffened.

How do I fix this?

Her soft voice filled the air. “Are you okay?”

I opened my eyes. “Yes, reine. Are you?”

“Of course. What are you thinking about?”

“A lot.”

“You look sad.”

I confessed the truth to her. “I’m. . .disappointed.”

“You’re still blaming yourself?”

“I am, but I’ll stop eventually.”

“No. Don’t waste another minute on it.” She sat up. “He…the devil, tried to break me, but he couldn’t. Not all the way. I always knew you would come and save me in the end.”

Earlier, she’d put on a white see-through gown. Louis had brought some of our things to the suite. I didn’t know who’d packed, but I was very happy about the gown. V- cut with tiny little silk straps tied around her neck. Those breasts sat upon her chest, regal and lush as ever. Pretty much exposed. Those dark areolas pressed against the thin fabric.

Focus. She’s saying something deep about us, and I’m staring at her tits.

“Don’t think about it anymore, Jean-Pierre.”

I licked my lips, as I drank in her beautiful image. “Suddenly, I’m no longer thinking about that.”

She blushed, when she saw what I was looking at.

“I did make you a promise.”

“You did.” She gave me a wicked smile. “But did Dr. Martin approve you for sex?”

“You saw he walked out with both legs.”

Her nipples hardened. My cock stiffened. My balls hung heavy, close to aching. Lust and hunger replaced all my worries and guilt from this week.

That silky voice caressed my length. “What about your ribs?”

“Fuck my ribs.” I charged for her.

She shrieked and fell back on the bed. “Jean-Pierre, be careful.”

“I don’t want to be.” Towering over that small frame, I almost worried that I scared Eden, until soft giggles left her pretty mouth. I tasted them, relishing in those lips and those giggles. How sweet? How satisfying? Nothing would taste better than her. Nothing could fill me.

I traced Eden’s mouth, loving the soft plumpness of them. “Do you know how much I was ready to destroy, to get you back?”

The humor left her face, yet desire swam in her eyes. Her voice came out shaky. “I do.”

I moved my hand down the bandage and outlined it with my index finger. “You should’ve let Dr. Martin check this”

“I’ve already seen it.”

“And?”

She looked away.

I tenderly grabbed her chin bringing her view back to me. “Reine?”

“It’s ugly and—”

“I don’t care about that. I just want to make sure it heals. That you heal.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You will.” I moved my hand to rest at the base of her neck. Her pulse raced against my palm. I held back the need to kiss all around her bandage. How could I tell her that she was mine? That I was hers? That nothing—not a scar or injury—would change that.

“Eden—”

“Fuck me.”

My cock jumped against her thigh.

She gazed at me with seduction in her eyes.

“Sirene.” I left the conversation alone for now. There would be time to show her my love. For now, I yearned as much as she did to give her my cock.

I slipped my hand up the back of her neck and touched those thick curls. When I couldn’t take any more of the silkiness, I lowered and drank her in, barely getting my fill. Barely satisfied. Knowing that it would take all night, and some of tomorrow, to be quenched.

When I leaned away, a soft groan left her lips.

“Please.” She spread her legs for me. “Now.”

“Yes, reine, give me what’s mine.” I slipped my hands down to her pussy. Wet for me, her throbbing bud was drenched and swollen. I softly strummed.

“Oh.” She arched up, pressing those soft breasts against my chest.

“Should I taste my pussy? Give it a kiss? Or should I stuff my cock in that wet, tight space?”

Her words skipped across my pants. “All of it, and more.”

“Oh, reine.” Unable to be patient enough to lick her pussy, I thrust my cock in her instead. How could I hold back? How could I wait, when it had been too long? Almost forever. Hell. Flames and chaos. Loneliness and heartbreak. I had to be inside of her. Balls deep with her moaning my name.

Tags: Kenya Wright Butcher and Violinist Billionaire Romance
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