Wrong Kind of Love

Her tear-filled gaze lifts, and that helpless look in her eyes hit me hard. I wish I could take every broken piece of her and put it back together, but I can’t. I have nothing to offer her.

“He would have killed us,” she whispers. “I had to do it.”

I place my palm on her cheek, and she latches onto it, holding me in place. That damn innocence of hers is something I could drown in. “You did the right thing.”

Her brows wrinkle like she’s fighting that thought, and damn, if I thought I could love someone, it’s her. There’s just something about her that feels right in every damn way, something about her that makes me want to shield her and protect her and keep every bad thing away. And that’s why I lean forward and press my lips to hers because I want to take away the dark parts of her life, and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel like something bleeds into me with that one kiss. I need this woman in ways I can’t acknowledge because it’s terrifying. Her hands go to the back of my head, pulling me closer as I deepen the kiss, and the deeper this kiss grows, the more desperate it feels. Her hands slide down my neck, coming to rest on my shoulders as her nails dig into my skin.

There is no fighting this anymore, no more denying it. “I fucking want you,” I whisper against her lips.

“I need you.”

I scoop her up without breaking the kiss and carry her into my room, laying her underneath me on the bed. I kiss her hard and deep until I feel like I’m on the verge of losing my fucking mind if I don’t get inside her, and it’s all I can do to keep from ripping her bloodstained clothes off of her. “Tell me you want this, Tor.”

She grabs at my fly, pushing and shoving my jeans and boxers over my hips, then grabbing my hard cock. And that’s all the answer I need. I strip her down, planting angry kisses on her lips and perfect tits. I’m lust-drunk on her lips. The pent-up need for her has me ready to blow. I’ve never been this close to coming without being inside someone, but I’ve never had this primitive need driving through me like an F-5 tornado. And when I push my fingers inside her. Wet. Fuck me, she’s so wet and tight.

On a groan, I bury my face in the crook of her neck. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve beat off to the thought of this pussy?”

Nails dig into my shoulder blades, raking down my back and leaving a hot trail in their wake, prompting me to shove my fingers deeper inside her.

“How many times I pictured what it would feel like when you come around my dick?”

She tightens around me on a soft moan. I could get her off right now, and part of me wants to, but I’m afraid those breathy sounds she’s making are going to make me go before I ever get the chance to feel her the way I want.

“What do you want, Tor?” I press my thumb over her clit, and her back bows on a deep hiss. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“God, yes…”

I pull my fingers out, sucking the sweet taste of her off as I shift between her thighs and push into her. Slow. Steady. I fight the urge to slam into her as hard as I can as her nails slice down my arms. Her pussy tightens more with every inch I sink into her.

“Fuck, woman,” I breathe when I get all the way in. I have to stop and talk myself down from the edge I’m already hanging off of. I want to fuck her until she has no choice but to remember it every time she goes to sit down.

I cover her mouth with mine as I pick up my pace. “You’re mine now, doll.”

“I’ve been yours…”

I sink my teeth into her shoulder and go at her harder. In, out, in—until her knees are by her head and sweat drips down my temples. I fuck her until she’s begging, fisting the sheets on moans that border on screams, and when her pussy grips me with the rhythm of her orgasm, I give in and plummet off that edge with her, coming so hard my teeth grind together, and I have to fight for my next breath. I press another kiss to her lips before I roll off of her, then pull her onto my chest.

As awful as it may make me, I wouldn’t change Rich bringing her here now. I’m selfish as hell, but I’ll give this girl the world if I can.

20

Victoria

I woke up this morning to Jude kissing his way down my bare chest. Within minutes, he was back inside me, fucking himself into my soul with each hard thrust, every desperate kiss—then again after my shower. And I can’t help but smile at the slight ache every time I sit down. Maybe I should be mortified, but I’m not. I can’t be. Right or wrong, I’ve never wanted a man as much as I want Jude; I’ve never had a man make me feel as safe as he does, as alive with an incredible need...