Wraith kisses my inner thigh, and I hiss in a breath. “God, I fucking missed you while you were gone.”
His casual admission sets my soul on fire. “Well, I’m staying, so you’re stuck with me.”
“Like I would let you leave.”
He nips my thigh. I yelp at the pain, even as a thrill sends a wave of warmth to my sex. He presses a hand on my stomach to settle me back against the pillows. I close my eyes and hold my breath as Wraith slides my panties down my legs. I fist my hands and wait for his rejection. True, he’s already seen me in a bra and panties, and had made intimate friends with my vagina, but still. Insecurity is an ugly thing and doesn’t magically go away. In fact, I want to crawl under the blanket and hide.
Dive into a shadow.
Hop in a car and drive to another state.
Anything to escape Wraith’s reluctant acceptance of my flawed body.
Yes, he’s just as flawed as me, more even, but when it’s you, it feels different. Too personal. Too close to the bones. My scars are a curse I’ve worn all my life. An ugliness I’ve hidden from the world. He doesn’t wear his like a shame, but rather, an honor of what he’s survived. And I can feel myself do what I never thought I would.
I wither under his scrutiny.
“You’re fucking beautiful.”
My eyes pop open, and there it is. Hunger as Wraith stares down at me. Not disgust or forced enthusiasm. Not rejection. And not because of our shared imperfection.
It’s as if Wraith sees past my scars to the person beneath them. And when he kisses a path down my abdomen, shame and self-loathing finally die inside my heart.
At least for tonight.
Wraith moves lower, pulling breathy moans from me as he makes his way to the juncture of my thighs. He slides in one finger, stretching me, and a thousand sparks of light explode behind my eyes. His mouth is hot, his tongue working my clit as he glides a second finger in me. I bury my hands in his hair and turn my head to the pillow and smother my cries as my body shattered under his touch.
I roll my hips as a delicious pressure builds in my womb. I’m so wet, his finger slips in and out slick and smooth as I ride his thrusts. He’s ruthless with his tongue, teasing me. Flicks at my clit, then licks harder. He alternates the pressure until we catch a rhythm, and I flow with it as my wall of stone and steel crumbles all around me. Until I’m left standing in the rubble, grasping at air.
He curls his fingers inside me and rubs against my G-spot, and my muscles stiffen almost to the point of pain. I can’t breathe. Air is trapped in my lungs as electricity skids along my nerves. When tiny aftershocks rush through me, Wraith tugs off his pants. He kicks them aside, but when he moves to climb back on the bed, I shoot to the edge of the mattress to stop him.
“No,” I practically shout.
His brows slam together. “No?”
Okay, even naked and with a raging hard-on, Wraith is intimating as all get-out. “Notnono. I want to… The whole thing. The full experience.”
I’m mucking this up.
He scrubs a hand over his face. “You’re driving me crazy, Jamie.”
I heave out a loud sigh. “I want to return the favor.”
His brows shoot up, and his expression softens. “You want to suck my dick.”
“Absolutely,” I say with a huge grin.
It’s easy to talk tough outside of an intimate situation. But I’m suddenly tongue-tied and unsure. The person I was before this moment is a stranger. Not even the same species. And I realize it’s because my guard is down and who I am in this moment is themebehind the wall. Not the person pretending to be me, but the shy woman living in the shadow of the resilient survivor.
Wraith shakes his head. “Can’t be timid. Not the way we’re going to do it. You need to get right with that fact.”
Oh God.
Wraith takes my hand and stands me up. Then… Waits. I tuck my hair behind my ears and, awkward as hell, drop to my knees. I’m going to be awful at it, but hey, practice makes perfect, and every woman starts somewhere. Right?
Face-to-penis with Wraith is a hell of a thing. Every part of him is massive, and I won’t lie, his dick is as formidable as the rest of him. But it’s also fascinating because as much as he says I’m his, he’s also mine. And with that revelation comes an exhilarating bit of power over a man who prides himself on never giving up authority over himself. Especially, I’m sure, after everything he’s been through. But right now, he’s giving himself to me, and I intend to find out exactly what gives this man pleasure.
Curiosity overrides apprehension. I stoke his penis, marveling at its width and length. At how the skin is velvet over stone. I listen to the subtle changes to his breathing when I run my tongue up the shaft and around its head. And when I draw the tip in my mouth, his groans are the fuel on a fire, empowering me to tease him as he teased me. To suck him harder, then whisper my lips up the length. Toy with him until he’s grunting my name and tugging fistfuls of my hair. But I don’t let him control my movements. This is my time to play. To try different things that make him breathe faster, moan louder…
