He spreads my folds and strokes the throbbing nub between my folds. He slides a finger into my tight channel, working me with easy strokes. I clamp around his finger and ride his hand until I feel the burning edge of my climax.
“Come for me, Layla.”
Pulsations quiver through me, pulling me from the dark depths.
I buck against his hold as he finger fucks me. I spill hot, sticky juices all over both of us.
Hard lips find mine, and the second I think I can finally take a breath, he’s right there stealing it from me the moment I break the surface.
The intrusion of his tongue into my mouth, the way he holds my thighs open with his large body so he can do whatever he wants to do to my body, robs me of thought.
The water pounds around us, steam rising like a benediction. Beast holds me through the aftershocks, his arms strong and unyielding.
He pulls his hand away and gently strokes my throbbing clit with a gentleness that breaks me open and puts me back together at the same time.
When I can finally breathe, he pulls me closer, pressing his lips to my forehead.
“I’ve got you,” he promises, voice raw and real. “I’ll always have you.”
I believe him.
For the first time in months, I believe in something again.
8
LAYLA
The world outside the rain-soaked window sleeps. Inside, Beast moves with the steady certainty of a man who’s claimed his space in the world and tonight, for reasons I can’t understand, he’s chosen to embrace me and pull me into his world.
He carefully dries me off before he wraps a towel around me and hands me my glasses.
His movements are slow and deliberate while his gaze never strays from my face. He shows profound patience and lingering touches that make my chest ache. Like he wants to show that I am safe with him, and not just use his words.
When he lifts me into his arms, the motion is effortless. I let my head fall against his shoulder, breathing in the scents of clean cotton, his skin, and the faint, wild note that lingers in the air. It’s a smoky orange scent that is uniquely part of Beast, I’m coming to understand. I want to drown in it, let it erase every ugly memory that’s been carved into my brain.
He carries me into a massive bedroom. The walls are warm brick and the floors are a beautiful dark wood. It’s welcoming and warm. A wide, low bed piled with thick white blankets and pillows sits toward the back wall with a leather armchair tucked on the opposite side beside a window streaked with rain. Its panes flicker with far-off lightning that only adds to the illusion of being tucked away in a bubble the outside world can’t touch. The room feels safe, lived in. Like a haven built for a man who’s had to fight for everything he owns.
He sets me down gently in the armchair and disappears for a moment, only to return wearing gray sweats, a fresh white T-shirt, and with two mugs of coffee in his hands. He pulls over a small table and places the mugs down, the steam curling in the gold lamplight.
He hands one to me, crouching in front of my chair so his bulk is the only thing between me and the night pressing at the glass. Again.
“You keep acting like my knight in shining armor and I might give you that job for life.” I’m kidding, but when I look up from the mug in my hand I find him looking at me like I’m the center of his universe.
He gathers my free hand and places tender kisses on each of my knuckles before slowly turning my hand and kissing the center of my palm. I curl my fingers around his.
“It’s been a long time since anyone has touched me with kindness instead of hatred and malice.”
“I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure I erase every single bad memory you have.”
I offer a small smile. “That sounds like you want a forever with me, Beast. You just met me.”
My heart races as his dark eyes hold me captive. “And yet you have not taken your hand out of mine, and I can’t seem to function right unless I’m touching you. Who are we to question what simply is? The Vultures will pay for what they did to you and I’m going to be by your side from here on out. Those two things might as well be written in blood.”
Memories of being snatched out of my university’s parking lot, being drugged, forced to cook up drugs and beaten when I didn’t perform plague my mind the second he mentions their name. The trembling starts in my toes and there is nothing I can do to stop the onslaught of fear working its way through my body.
His touch is warm and steady, covering my fingers where they won’t stop trembling over the mug of coffee in my hand.
We’ve been here already, him trying to calm me, and it makes me want to scream. I don’t want to be weak, but my mind is having a hard time keeping up with what my body wants.
