Blackbird (Redemption 1)

“That was before you were standing freely in the city, Briar,” he argued.

“Then take me home,” I pleaded, and tried to leave his arms to go back to the car, but he didn’t let me go. “If you’re so worried, then take me home.”

“You and I both need this, and after tonight, you deserve this.” One of his hands cupped the back of my neck, bringing my face closer to his until our noses were touching. “I need you to know that these months with you have been the best of my life, Briar.”

Something like fear and heartache seized my chest. “Are you—do you want me to go?”

“No,” he said fervently. “But in the chance that you do, I need you to know what I wouldn’t be able to say after. And if you do, know that I will chase you until I find you again because I don’t think I know how to live without you now.”

Why . . . why did this man insist on making me fall in love with him when I would never be able to have him the way I wanted?

“Then come chase me . . .” I whispered, and a hard rush of air left him.

Lucas’s arms fell limply when I pushed away from him, and I kept my eyes focused only on him as I backed away. Anger and agony swirled through those eyes and across his face as he watched me go until confusion replaced it when he realized where I was going.

He started in my direction, his steps hesitant at first, then surer as he closed the distance to where I was climbing into the car.

My decision had been made. There was no running . . . from anything anymore. He not only owned my body, he owned my heart and my shattered soul that he’d pieced back together.

By the time he slid in behind me and shut the door, my top was falling onto my jacket on the floor of the car.

“Briar,” he said, his voice barely above a growl.

I swallowed roughly and reached for him. “Take us home.”

The driver had put the privacy glass back up at some point, and Lucas leaned forward to pound his fist on it. “Drive,” he called out, and then his mouth was on my neck as his hands went to my lace-covered breasts.

I fumbled with the clasp of the bra and then moaned when his mouth replaced his hands once he pulled the material away. He laid me back against the seat and knelt between my knees, and a part of me wished I had waited until home. The car was too constricting—but there was no stopping this now.

I wove my fingers in his hair and pulled his face up to mine, holding it back just enough so my lips brushed his. “Give me more . . . give me everything.” My sharp inhale filled the backseat when he bit down roughly on my bottom lip, and my stomach heated when he made quick work of taking off my shoes and unbuttoning my pants.

His aggravation with how difficult it was to get those jeans off was clear in the look he gave me, and I failed at stifling my giggle just before he succeeded in yanking them and my underwear off me. My giggle turned into a loud moan when he pulled me to the very edge of the seat and pressed his face against my bare sex.

“Lucas,” I breathed, and gripped at his hair, needing something to hold on to.

His fingers and tongue moved relentlessly against me, teasing and torturing, slowly and breathtakingly fast. When those dark eyes met mine, I couldn’t look away. Completely transfixed, I watched as he devoured me, forcing moans and whimpers from my throat.

The heat that swirled through my belly intensified, and my core tightened. I dropped my head back onto the seat and tightened my grip in his hair, eager for the blissful death awaiting me, crying out when he suddenly nipped me and then replaced the same spot with his tongue again. I shattered into a trembling mess as pleasure surged through my body, over and over again.

His mouth moved in a broken trail of faint kisses over my hip and up my stomach, ending just under the swell of my breast. “Wait here,” he said gruffly, then opened the car door.

I opened my eyes to see the garage just past Lucas outside the car door, then looked at the range of emotions passing over his face. Want, excitement, lust, worry, fear, worry, worry, worry.

Before I could ask, he was out of the car and rounding the door to talk to the driver. His voice was too low for me to know what he said, but it was in that terrifying tone that always worried me about what would come next.

Within seconds he was back and holding his hand out to me. “Come here, Blackbird.”

“I’m not dre—”

“He won’t be looking,” he assured me darkly.

Heat rushed to my cheeks when I took Lucas’s hand as I thought about what the driver had heard—I wouldn’t be able to face him again. My feet hardly touched the ground. As soon as my toes hit the cool garage floor, Lucas scooped me into his arms and carried me into the house, keeping his back to the driver as much as possible.

His mouth fused to mine once we were inside the house, and I waited for the incline of the stairs, but it never came. Soon I was being lowered onto a bed in a room I had never seen, Lucas’s body following mine so he was hovering over me.

“If you’re going to stop me, you need to do it now,” he murmured as he quickly trailed down my stomach with his mouth.

“Everything,” I reminded him.