My hands shake as I take off my bra. I’m too scared to look at him, but I can feel his eyes drinking me in, absorbing the view.
Then, finally—
“Jesus.” Muttering the word as he stares down, he curses when I flinch. “No, that came out wrong.”
I want to cover up. Too bad I can’t, not when he’s leaning down to kiss the scar between my breasts.
“Just when I think you can’t get any prettier…” He kisses another line, this time letting the tip of his tongue trace the scar near my belly button. “You’ve got them on your legs, too.”
He squeezes my knee, his thumb tracing the line through my clothes. Did he memorize them or something?
“Want to tell me what happened?” He lifts, curious.
“You want me to talk about one of my biggest insecurities?” My brows come together as I look at his hand already reaching for the band of my pants. “Now?”
His answer is a smile.Ugh.
Covering my eyes with the palm of my hand, I lift my hips to help him strip me of the rest of my clothes. “Really bad car accident.”
“Sounds too simple.” He parts my thighs, and I can just feel him staring.
“I almost died. Mom was speeding, and a semi didn’t—” My words catch as I feel his tongue trace my slit. “It, um, didn’t see the stop sign.”
Every time I talk about the accident, I’m usually choked up with emotion. Right now, Ripper’s making it really hard, especially when he urges me to keep going.
“Mom didn’t make it. They barely saved me. My legs were…” Unable to concentrate, my knees curl as he sucks my clit between his lips. “Mangled.”
It’s the only word that can come to mind, falling out more like a moan than anything.
I could tell him that it’s a miracle I didn’t lose my ability to walk, or the hellish years it took to heal and relearn how to walk correctly, or the debt Paulie had to take on as my new guardian. That takes too many words.
“I needed open-heart surgery.” Pinching my eyes shut, I clench around prodding fingers. “I really should’ve died that day.”
Instead, I got left with a body riddled with marks and a lifetime worth of judgmental stares.
“If you had, then I’d never have gotten the chance to taste this.” He lifts, all cheeky.
“You’re ridiculous.” Biting my lip hard, my body arches as he strokes my wet heat. He’s too good at this, touching me right where it feels good.
He has complete control, and he can tell where my limit is and just how close I reach it.
My reward for telling him my awful past is the loss of his fingers and mouth altogether. How unfair.
Sitting up, his eyes glow as he licks his lips and enjoys my taste. He touches his chest, over the countless marks. “Want me to tell you about mine?”
“No.” I squirm against the bed. “I don’t.”
He laughs, the sound going right through me. “Shame. However, you seem to want something else. Is that it?”
He’s making me say it. Jerk.
“Your cock,” I whisper, my voice husky with a need that terrifies me. Reaching down between my legs, I let my fingers slide through my own slickness, teasing my glistening folds. “Right here.”
Ripper groans, a raw, ragged sound as he runs a hand down his face. “I’m going to watch you touch yourself sometime. Maybe later, I think.” His gaze is locked on my fingers, even as his own hand works the button of his jeans, hiding the hard evidence of his own need
There’s a palpable sense of relief that washes over him once his cock is in his hand, thick and heavy and veined. Remembering the sight of him stroking himself before, I finally understand. It is a hot view. It’s a view that’s mine.
“I’m going to be the one and only man here, Haven.” He mutters it mostly to himself as he guides himself toward my core, the broad head nudging my clit and sending a wave of pleasure through me. “Remember that. If anyone else tries…”
