Bruiser (Seattle Sharks 7)

“Shea,” he said, his fingers in my hair.

“I know I snap first and think logically later,” I said, pressing on as I pumped him in my hands. “I know I’m difficult and I have a dark past. I know I bring nothing but baggage to the table.”

“Baby—”

“My turn,” I said, cutting him off and wrapping my lips over the head of his cock, a little tease to get him focusing. Another growl. “When you told me you loved me,” I said before trailing the tip of my tongue along the length of him and back. “I froze. Not because I don’t feel the same, because I do, Hudson. I do. But because I don’t feel worthy of your love. You’re amazing.” I took him in my mouth again. “The taste of you is enough to claim me,” I said when I’d pulled him out again.

“But it’s more than that,” I continued. “You’re kind. And gentle. And powerful.” Each phrase I paired with another suck of that perfectly thick head inside my mouth. “I have nothing, nothing to give you—except drama. Bad press you don’t need.” I gripped the back of his ass and took his entire length in my mouth until there was nothing left of him, and I sucked and swirled and rocked my head back and forth, worshiping him in the way he’d done for me too many times to count. Savoring the taste of him, the feel of him.

His fingers tightened in my hair, and a low rumble came from his chest.

“My heart,” I said, pulling out, breathless from the size of him. “That’s all I have to give you, though you likely know it’s already yours.” I flicked my tongue over his head, the taste of warmth and salt melting the center of me. “I love you, Hudson. So damn much.” Without preamble or gentleness, I took him in, all the way again, and pumped and sucked as hard and as lovingly as I could. I needed him to know how real this was between us. How much I could never be afraid of him. How sorry I was for all the times I’d let my fear control my mouth before—let it fuel my heated words filled with spite, that were not meant for him but for me.

“Shea,” he growled my name and dug his fingers into my hair.

One second he filled my mouth so much my eyes watered.

And the next, he’d hefted me atop the marble island.

He nudged my knees apart, stepping between them, his warm, hard chest hitting between my thighs. His face, for once, was eye level with mine, thanks to the height of the island I now sat on.

“God damn, Shea,” he said, his forehead against mine as he caught his breath. “I love you,” he said, cupping my cheeks. “You’re everything. My everything. You’ve given me…everything.” He stilled before me, and I wrapped my legs around his back, holding him close as I never lost connection with his eyes.

The honesty in his words, the pure vulnerability in his eyes, wrenched something free inside me.

“I’m terrified of…” I licked my lips, needing the time to collect my racing thoughts. “Of losing you.”

“That will never happen.” His tone a breath, a promise.

I swallowed around a lump in my throat that could very well be my heart.

I’d laid myself so damn bare.

So exposed and raw.

He remained frozen before me, and a piece of me crumpled inside. “I know it’s too fast. I know I’ve spent years building walls to keep people out. To protect myself from this. But you…you didn’t even break my walls, Hudson. You didn’t shatter them or tear them down brick by brick. It’s like you simply fit. Slipped through the cracks—sinking into my heart while still keeping my foundations strong.”

His warm fingers slid behind my knees, cupping my legs.

“Fuck, Shea,” he said. “How do you exist?”

“What?” I breathed against him.

“You. The way you are. Your strength and your fierce passion and everything about you seems made for me.” He sighed. “I love you. I don’t care if I’m saying it too much. I have for a while. Even when I tried to deny it. Even when I remembered how badly love can hurt. But…I trust you. And that isn’t something I do lightly.”

“Me either.”

“Maybe that’s what makes you perfect for me and me perfect for you.”

Tears welled in my eyes, one traitorous sliver slipping free.

Hudson kissed it away, working down my neck, and stopped at my chest. Right where my blouse dipped modestly in a V. And, so tenderly I held my breath, he kissed right over my heart like he was placing a brand on it.

Claiming it with a promise.

To protect.

To defend.

To strengthen.

“Hudson,” I said, shuddering as if he’d kissed between my thighs. I reached for him, my fingers greedy as I trailed them over his spectacular abs, and lower, until I reached that still gloriously hard length of him. “You stopped me. Let me down. Let me take care of you.” I bit my bottom lip. “Let me make up for all the times I’ve snapped at you for being perfect.”

A smirk flashed across his lips before he captured my wrists in his hands. “I love that mouth of yours,” he said. “Don’t you dare apologize for being fierce. It’s why I fell for you.” He planted a kiss on my lips, fast and searing.

“Later,” he said, slowly, gently moving my wrists until they were above my head, and I was arching so much I could do nothing but lay down, my back against the cool marble. “For now,” he said, releasing my hands and slipping his fingers up my pencil skirt, hiking it up and up until it bunched around my stomach. “I’m hungry.”

The words, guttural and aching, melted my core completely.

He gripped my hips and tugged me until my ass was at the lip of the island, and then he pressed a kiss over the scrap of lace I had covering me.

“Red,” he said, a smile in his tone.

“I know you love red,” I said, sighing as I closed my eyes, the heat from his breath covering the apex of my thighs.

“I love you in any color,” he said, the vibrations from his deep voice awakening each cell in my body. “Almost as much as I love you bare.” He hooked those fingers into the lace and slid them down and over my pumps. A shuddered breath ripped from him, that warmth hitting my slightly swollen flesh.

Him.

This man.

He did this to me, to my body.

Made me ache in the deepest, most primal way.

“Fuck, Shea,” he growled. “You’re fucking beautiful. And wet.” He teased me with the tip of his tongue. “And delicious.”

Everything in me disappeared.

Ceased to be until I became nothing but sensation.

Nothing but his tongue expertly lapping, sliding, pumping.

Nothing but his lips as they grazed my clit, teasing, torturing.

I reached behind me, gripping the edge of the island, needing the support before I flew off this planet.

Hudson moaned against me, and I became that subtle tremor in his voice, that hungry growl as he devoured me. Became the sparks that tensed and flared and crackled with each stroke he delivered.

Unhinged.

The man…God, he was my undoing.

Years of being locked up tight—my heart, body, and soul.

Years of fortifying against a potential break.

And Hudson Porter had slipped through them like he’d always held the key.

Maybe he had.

He squeezed my ass with one hand and held down my writhing hips with another. I was no match for his strength, and yet I felt safe, worshipped, desirable.

“Hudson,” I groaned, bucking against his hold as he devoured me.

“Shea,” he said, mimicking me with a tease in his tone.

“Please,” I said, breathless. “God, I can’t take any more.”

“You can,” he said, moving the hand from my ass to my center, slipping two fingers into my warmth while his tongue continued flicking my clit. “You can handle this,” he said, emphasizing the word by rolling his fingers inside me in a come hither motion. “And this,” he said, laying his tongue flat against my clit. “And more,” he continued, taking that moment to raise himse

lf up just slightly, just enough for me to look down at him where he grinned between my thighs.

“Fuck.” I shuddered, every ounce of my being coiling like a tight spring.

The word on my lips made something red hot flare in his eyes, and he unleashed himself on me. Pumping those fingers once, twice, three times before he placed his lips on my clit and sucked.

I saw stars.

Splintering, shining sparks that danced across my vision as I bowed against him.

His name a scream.

My breath ragged.

My fingers aching from how hard I gripped the island.

I trembled against him as he saw me through one orgasm and right into another, until I was gasping and limp from the pleasure.

Slowly, sweetly, he kissed the interior of my thighs, slipping his fingers from my warmth as he raised to his full height once again.

And I could’ve wept from wanting him so badly.

But then he turned away from me, to do what I didn’t know or care.

“Don’t you dare leave,” I said, hooking my legs around him, my pumps digging into his bare back.

He growled, sliding his hands under me and hefting me off the island.

“Just looking for where I want to fuck you next.”

A moan rippled through me, and I shifted around him, the slickness between my thighs drenching his abs where he held me against him.

“Anywhere,” I demanded. “As long as it’s now.”

A wicked smirk shaped his lips as he slowed his walk through the penthouse. “Any requests?”

I quickly scanned the area, the layout suddenly new and ripe with possibilities now that we were here alone.

“There.” I pointed to one of his tall-backed, armless chairs that sat next to the unlit fireplace.

He cocked a brow at me but moved us toward it. “Kind of hard for me to fuck you there.”

I clenched my thighs. “But I can fuck you there.”

A tremor rolled through him, all of his defined muscles tensing and flexing underneath me.