I care. Despite what people may think of me—how I may feel about myself—I’m not made of stone. And I want to feel pretty, occasionally. Like now, with Wraith’s gaze on my body. Instead of being a scarred and broken bit of goods wrapped in functional undergarments, I wish, for once, I could be someone like Ava. A beautiful, perfect whirlwind who’s comfortable in the sort of sexy clothing that grabs a man’s attention.
But I have Wraith’s attention.
In spades, actually.
I stand my ground and pretend I’m not dying of embarrassment under his scrutiny. The other day in his room was one thing. Other than him getting up close and personal with my vagina, Wraith didn’t see the rest of me. But he’s getting an eyeful now, and yes, his body is scarred, too. And yes, he was there when most of these marks were put on me. But he’s never seen me in the raw, and all at once. And I’m ashamed because faded slashes and burns cover me. They crisscross over my torso and thighs, haphazardly put there by the sloppy hand of a drunken asshole.
I catch the inside of my cheek with my teeth and bite down hard. The pain helps to balance my mortification.
“Why do you gotta be so pretty?” Wraith’s gruff demand shocks the hell out of me because it’s the last thing I expect him to say.
“You’re drunk.” I take his hand so I can lead him to his room.
He shakes off my touch, and his upper lip curls in a sneer. “I turned down sex because of you.”
Does he want a gold star? A standing ovation? “No one asked you to.”
But I’m thrilled you did.
“Only to come out here and see you naked.” He jerks his chin at Jester’s bedroom. “Did you let Jester fuck you?”
“Again, not naked.” I back away and throw my hands in the air, frustrated and also a pissed off. “And no, Wraith, Jester and I did not have sex. You insult me with the accusation.”
Wraith stalks toward me, chewing up the space between us. “Most women wouldn’t find it insulting.”
I notch my chin, adding a few new bricks to my wall. “I do.”
“Apparently.” He inches closer. “Question is why.”
“If you need to ask, you don’t know me.”
His touch is a whisper over my cheek. “Yeah, I do, Jamie.”
“No, you don’t.”
Wraith threads his fingers through my hair, fisting a handful of the wet strands. A thrill works its way from my scalp down my spine. “I know you thought about me just like I thought about you. Imagined my hands touching you.” He lowers his head, his breath fanning the sensitive curve of my ear. “Kissing you.” He walks me backward until we hit the wall. He traps me with his body. Pins me in place with his hips. My breath hitches when he kicks my legs apart and grinds against me. “Sliding inside you.”
I can’t breathe. Can’t move. I want him so baldly. But not here, in the hallway, with him drunk and Jester downstairs.
“Stop.”
But I don’t want him to stop. I want Wraith’s hands on me. I need his strength. His control because I’m tired. So damn tired of being strong. I want to let it all go. To surrender to him because I know he’ll keep me safe. He’ll never hurt me.
I’m so many contradictions that I don’t even recognize myself.
“That’s what you want?” When his tongue glides up my throat, I hiss in a breath as a wave of heat flows in its wake. “For me to walk away and leave you standing here aching and empty?”
Oh God, no.
I’ve spent my life aching and empty.Lonely, aching, and empty.
With nothing to lose and everything to gain, I melt into him and snake my arms around his waist. Wraith’s mouth crushes mine, parting my lips, his tongue whiskey sweet. His hands grip my hips, his fingers pressing into my flesh. He holds me, his erection straining in his jeans. The pulse of it sends an electric thrill through me. My body fills with a needy pressure, grasping for something out of reach. A thirst only he can quench.
He kisses a path to my ear. Sinks his teeth into my neck hard enough to fold my knees. Pain and pleasure collide, forming a delicious coil that works its way from my core to each limb. Thank God I’m holding on to him because if I weren’t, I’d crumble to the floor. I throw my head back, a moan sliding up from my throat as he teases me with his teeth and tongue.
When he traces his fingers up my sides, he rocks his hips against me, the friction causing a slow burn to build between my legs. He grazes his palm over the taut peak of my breast, and I whimper at the foreign sensation, needing more. So much more.
Curiosity overrides a lifetime of caution, and I inch my hand between our bodies. My heart skips a few beats as I press my palm over Wraith’s erection, fascinated and frightened at his size. His groan rumbles around me as I stroke the length of him through his jeans. Savor the throb as he pumps against my hand. He rasps incoherent promises of what he’s going to do to my body, each word chipping at my defenses like a hammer hitting glass.
