His nostrils flare as he takes me in. I slip the sleeves of my dress down my shoulders, letting the cotton material fall until I’m exposing the top of my breasts to him.
“I won’t regret this in the morning, or the next day, or for months to come. I won’t regret sharing these pieces of ourselves with each other. I want you, Braxton. Only you.”
Whatever semblance of self-control Braxton had been holding onto snaps the moment I say those words. His lips latch onto mine before traveling along my jaw, down my neck, across mycollarbone, and finally to my bare breast. My head drops back as he greedily nibbles and sucks at my sensitive skin, taking my nipple into his mouth. One of my hands travels up his torso to lace itself in his thick, unruly locks.
With what appears to be great effort, Braxton pulls back. Looking up at me, he drops his hands from my waist before asking, “You’re sure?”
There are so many raging emotions in his eyes, I’m unable to discern which one he’s directing at me.
Longing?
Desire?
Uncertainty?
My lips part and my tongue slides along them as I give Braxton one final nod, shutting out all the thoughts in my brain. I don’t want to think anymore. For the first time in I don’t even know how long, I’m not angry. I’m not filled with a blinding hatred, and I want to bask in these emotions.
My hands drop to his belt, working to unclasp the buckle. Once undone, I make quick work of releasing the button at the top of his sleek pants, and following my lead, he smoothly lifts me before setting me down beside him.
Before I can open my mouth to protest, he stands and pushes his pants and underwear to the ground, allowing his cock to spring free from its confinement. His shirt soon follows, leaving him standing before me completely naked, all except for the bandage wrapped around his side covering his stab wound. The wound that is no doubt going to leave him with a scar that will act as a permanent reminder of what he was willing to sacrifice for me.
My mouth goes dry as my eyes rake over his gorgeous body, drinking in the swirls of black ink lining his shoulder and around his neck. The sudden urge to take him in my mouth, to feel the power of making him shake and come undone by my lips, takesover me. He watches me with eye-darkening hunger as I swivel my body so that I’m kneeling before him on the couch.
“Tell me what you want?”
I hesitate. This isn’t the same as when he demanded I answer this question in the library. He isn’t trying to break my pride or get me to beg. He’s trying to understand my boundaries.
“I want to feel powerful.”
He hums his approval as he steps toward me. “What else?” he prompts. My skin tingles from the heat of his gaze raking over my body.
“I want you to worship me.”
He drops to his knees in front of me, and I feel my entire body thrum with anticipation.
“I do. Every single day that I’m in your presence.” His words hold a weighty truth that has my thighs growing slick with approval.
“Show me.”
54
Azalea
Needingnofurtherinstruction,Braxton gently grasps my ankle and begins kissing his way up each leg. Every soft brush of his lips brings me a little closer to the brink of insanity. Right before he gets to my throbbing center, he pulls back.
“Braxton,” I whine, not caring how needy I sound.
“Up.” His commanding tone has my core clenching.
Doing as I’m told, I stand, the top of my dress falling a little further down before pooling at my waist. I watch as Braxton lies flat on the armchair.
“Turn around.”
My brows pull together, but I do as he instructs and turn my back to him.
“Now sit.”
My cheeks heat as I figure out where this is going. Walking over to his lap, I lift one of my legs, readying myself to straddle his hips.
