When I don’t move, she pulls me down by my collar and presses her lips back to mine. She forces my hand down harder on her throat, taking what she wants from me, what she needs. Lips glued to hers, tongues dancing, mouths mashing, I yank her up by her ass. She circles her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck. Our kiss grows harder, rougher, more urgent.
She moans into my mouth, weaving her fingers into my hair. “Fuck me, Linc. I need you to fuck me.”
I grin against her lips, my hands wandering, and nip at her throat as I slam her back against the siding of the house. I’m gonna take her right here. I don’t give a fuck who sees.
Gracie Donovan is mine. And I want everyone to fucking know it.
I break away, the fury storming in my chest finally settling. “You left, Grace. You fucking left. And if you would have… fuck. If they’d…” I huff out a gulp of air. “It would have killed me. Don’t ever fucking do that again. Please.”
Her face softens, because god, she’s got me begging again. “I was trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting. I need you alive. I need you safe.”
She runs her fingers over my cheek, and pain ignites just beneath my skin. I inhale a sharp breath. I’d forgotten about the bullet that could have ended me had I not moved when I did.
A shaky breath escapes her. “They almost got you.”
We’re quiet a moment, staring at each other, our breathing ragged, the rain hammering down on the pavement around us.
“Yeah. And they almost gotyou. They’ll answer for this. When we’re done, they’ll know. No one fucking comes for you without consequences.”
With a nod, she pulls me in again. It’s dark, the rain turning torrential, coming down in sheets and mostly concealing us as I peel off her tank top, getting lost in her kiss, her touch, the softness of her skin against the roughness of my palms. Andfuck. The way she moves, responds to my touch. It’s so damn easy to shut out the rest of the world, forget everything and just be in this moment with her. Body against mine. Teeth sinking into my lip, her hands skimming down my blood-soaked shirt and ripping it off. I’ll need to burn that later.
Rain pelts my naked back as our bodies slide against one other, water soaking us from head to toe. Pinning her tighter against the house, I shift her weight to one side and find the waistband of her shorts. “Need these off, Gracie.”
She unbuttons them quickly, then helps me shove them, along with her panties, down her legs. I yank her back up, and she tightens her thighs around my waist and reaches for my belt. She lowers my zipper, and then she’s wrapping her fingers around my cock.
“Fuck.” I steady my forehead against hers as she pumps me up and down, guiding me closer to her entrance.
Hoisting her up, I slot myself between her legs. Then I slowly lower her down. I like this part. Watching her expression as I stretch her, the way her mouth opens and her brows furrow. The pain that comes when she digs her nails into my skin.
“Big breath, baby,” I whisper.
She exhales, the tension easing from her muscles, and I push in a little deeper. God, she’s pretty when she’s taking my dick. She’s fucking made for me. The rough way I need to fuck her, to handle her, she takes it perfectly, needs it just as badly as I do.
It’s this life. The blood, the bodies, the violence of it all. Like she said, there’s no room for gentle.
“God, Gracie,” I murmur as I finally bottom out.
I immediately pick up my pace, tightening my grip on her ass, giving her those bruises she likes so much.
My side twinges, my ribs aching, reminding me of the hits I took for her tonight. It only roughens my movements. Making me fucking feral for her, desperate to get closer, to claim her, toslam into her and savour the hurt. A kind of pain I’d take for her again and again.
Thunder cracks above us, the sky lighting up as the storm rolls by. We don’t stop. I barely hear it. Barely feel the water slicking my skin. I only feelher. The fear that’s finally dissolving, the anger slowly draining away.
“Harder,” she says, tone desperate, needy, her own kind of plea.
I pull out and ease her to her feet. Then I guide her towards my bike and bend her over the machine. Hands on her hips, I plunge back into her. The cry she releases is guttural, but I don’t slow. I take her rough, like I need to, likesheneeds me to.
Twisting my fingers in her hair, I wrench her head to the side, forcing her to look back at me. “How’s that, Gracie? Hard enough for you?”
“Y-yes,” she moans as she clutches for the handlebars to keep herself upright, to hold on and endure what I’m giving her.
“Fuck, you’re so goddamn wet. Hand between your legs, Grace. Rub that weeping, greedy little cunt until you’re coming on my cock.”
I take her harder, faster, as she works her clit. It’s a fucking beautiful sight, watching her come. Feeling the way her pussy clamps down on me, as if desperate to milk every damn drop from me. I can’t fucking control myself, can’t hold back. The second I feel it, I’ve got no choice but to let go, to ride it with her.
Dipping my head back, I close my eyes and pound into her, the rain hammering against my face, fucking my release into her perfect, throbbing cunt. The whole act is… healing. Cleansing. The water washing away all that blood and my sins. Leavingthisin its wake. This perfect fucking woman.
