Imagination that was running wild.
Wondering what it might be like if I really got to have this. A connection that was real. Something good.
“Please,” she begged.
“I wish I could give you everything,” I murmured, kissing up the inside of one thigh as I pressed my hands under the thin material, gathering the panties that covered that delicious heat.
I edged back to peel them down, watched her pant and shiver and moan.
“What do you need, sweet girl?”
“You. Everything. Anything,” she said as those hands spread down her body.
Fuck.
She shouldn’t be saying things like that to me.
I tugged her to the edge of the fabric chair, and I spread her by the knees, perfect, pink pussy on display, just like the rest of her.
“Perfect,” I rumbled again before I was diving in for a taste.
Surprise jetted from her lungs. “Oh god.”
I devoured the girl.
Devine.
Delicious.
Everything.
Fingers found my hair, digging in and tugging tight as she murmured her madness into the air.
“Yes. Royce. God. I shouldn’t feel like this. It’s not possible. You feel so good. So right.”
I wanted to beg her to stop, but it only incited me further.
Drove me to a ledge where I was so close to jumping.
Tongue lapping at her clit, I let my fingers explore, riding down her thighs, brushing her ass, sweeping through her engorged lips.
She bucked. “Please.”
I pushed two inside her tight pussy.
I nearly went off again, mind running wild. Desperate to know what my cock would feel like to be taking my fingers’ place. To feel the clutch of her body. To fuck her into oblivion.
Right where she was driving me.
I sucked and licked at her clit, driving my fingers fast and deep and hard.
She writhed and jerked, and I could feel her winding up.
Pleasure gathering to a pinpoint.
My assault increased, and I was touching her everywhere, laving with my tongue, sucking her into my mouth and scraping with my teeth.
Two seconds later, she fractured, the girl a million pieces I held in the palms of my hands. She cried out my name. A prayer. Like I could make an impact that would build something rather than destroy.
And I wished and I wished and I wished that it could be. That I could have a fucking do-over.
I slowed, led her through the aftershocks, the little pinpricks that buzzed through her body.
I edged back, looked up at this gorgeous woman who was spread out for me.
Skin covered in sweat, the smell of her sex on my tongue, need filling our air.
Her nightgown had gotten pushed up high around her waist, and that’s when I saw the scar etched on her side.
A jagged X carved right over her hip.
That was all it took to make me feel like I was going to vomit.
Quickly, I tucked myself back into my jeans and scrambled to find her underwear that I’d tossed to the ground, averting my gaze as I helped her back into them.
Those eyes kept peeking at me.
Searching for me.
To latch back onto the connection.
“Royce?” Her voice quivered, and I knew I was the biggest bastard that had ever lived.ThirteenEmily“Royce?” I asked again.
I could feel his heart shuttering. Shutting down in fear. Closing over in something that looked like terror.
Avoiding my eyes, he urged me to stand while the man remained kneeling as he helped me into my underwear.
There was something about it that felt so utterly intimate even though I could tell he was tryin’ with all his might not to be affected.
Not to feel what had taken us over.
But it was his firm yet trembling hands that gave him away. The soft surety of his movements. The care in his regard.
The man was crouched down with all that black hair flopping over to one side, the tattoos scrolled over his shoulders and down his muscled back exposed to me for the first time.
A huge fallen cross that lie broken on the side of a deserted hill, weeds and thorns growing up to cover it, words that I couldn’t make out scratched out in crooked lines on his side.
Fingers clawed out from a pit in the ground.
Clearly condemned.
Looking for a way to be saved.
Maybe I was crazy that I had the urge to do some of that saving, wondering if in turn, he could do a little of that saving, too.
That maybe, somehow, we were two fragmented pieces that fit together.
But it was the words I saw he had imprinted just under his collarbone that made my spirit ache in agony.
Love is the heart’s greatest deceit.
My stomach tangled in another rush of want.
And maybe, maybe, I was just a fool.
Keeping his head down, he eased the lacy fabric all the way up my legs. Shivers streaked across my flesh as his forearms disappeared under my nightgown.
My hands darted out, fingers digging into his shoulders for support.
To keep from falling.