“Layla,” he whispers over the rush of the falling water, “I want you to know that you’re safe with me. No one will ever hurt you again. And as long as I live you will always have someone in your corner.”
His deep voice works into my tense muscles, and I relax into his hold.
His words shake something loose inside me. I turn in his arms, water pouring over my back, and look up into his eyes.
“Kiss me,” I whisper. “Please. I need to feel alive.”
He doesn’t hesitate. His mouth finds mine, soft at first, his lips a brush of warmth and tenderness. I breathe in his calmness to help ease the trembling need pulsating through me. Then he deepens the kiss, his tongue parting my lips, tasting me like I’m the only thing keeping him breathing. I melt into him, my hands slipping up his chest, over the ink and the scars, anchoring myself to the only man who’s ever made me feel seen.
He crowds me gently against the tile, his jean-clad thigh slipping between mine, and I gasp when he presses closer. His hands slide down, strong and sure, tracing the curves of my hips, the dip of my waist. One hand cups the back of my head, holding me steady as his mouth trails down my jaw, over the bruises, to the hollow of my throat. His other hand finds my breast, thumb circling the nipple until I arch into him, desperate for more.
I gasp his name, my voice ragged.
He traps my mouth in a gentle yet claiming kiss. I kiss him right back. The need to feel drives my tongue into his mouth and the second the tip of my tongue finds his, he hollows his cheeks and sucks.
I groan into his mouth.Where this moment is going is not what I need to be thinking about, but I can’t help it. He makes me feel alive. Is that a bad thing?
He takes the kiss deeper. He tastes of wild adventure, forbidden lust, and bittersweet desire that I have no business entertaining. Wanting him is the worst thing I can do right now but I love the feeling of the hot blood rushing through my veins. The feeling of being alive.
I cling to him and whimper for more shamelessly.
He buries his face into my neck and sinks his teeth into the tender flesh between my shoulder and neck.
Cool air from a nearby vent drifts across my heated skin making my nipples pucker into tight nubs.
Beast notices. Big time. And a hungry grin plays over his lips.
Heat creeps onto my face.
Slowly. Ever so freaking slowly that it has to be the worst form of torture, he leans in and sinks his teeth around a hard tip. And bites.
“Beast!” I groan with a delicious heat consuming me from head to toe.
Nerve endings I didn’t realize I had, ignite with the intensity of the sun to scorch a path straight to my aching clit.
He braces his forearm on the wall by my head. Holding my gaze, he trails the tips of his fingers up my thighs and over my tummy.
What am I doing? I don’t know…
I lick my lips and he watches hungrily as my tongue darts over the plump flesh.
“Beast,” I moan again.
My rampant thoughts disperse when he sucks in the hard tip of my nipple between his hot lips.
“Fuck me,” he gruffly comments. “Your body is so responsive.”
He traces a hot path up the seam of my bare pussy with the rough pad of his finger. With a little pressure, he dips between the folds and draws back sticky wetness.
I groan with embarrassment that I can be so wet for someone I didn’t know existed two hours ago.
He strokes me with devastating care, his touch reverent, almost worshipful. Every nerve in my body fires to life, every inch of me aching for him. I press my forehead to his shoulder, sobbing his name.
But he’s holding up the truth of my arousal. A thrill shoots through me when he sucks his finger clean. His eyes fall closed as if it’s pure honey he’s tasting. He murmurs something I can’t make out, but it sounds hot and possessive.
Hands slide over my body, touching me everywhere. No man has craved me like this before and I don’t know what to do with that information.
Rapid beats of his heart are revealed in the erratic thump of the artery on the side of his neck. It’s empowering to see how affected he is by me. Those piercing dark eyes glitter with unspoken danger but his touches tell me the only thing I should fear is how hard he’ll make me orgasm.
