Page 58 of Bared

“Mmm.” It was more a wince than a moan, ending in her pronounced hiss as Brick turned his hand over and used his thumb and pinky on the sides of her clit. “Shit!” she screamed as he pinched even harder. “Ahhh!”

“Want me to stop?”

“No!” she retorted. “It is…fine. I am fine, Sir.”

“Good.” Brick matched his snarl to the soft kisses he brushed across her eyelids. “Because the next part is going to hurt a little more.”

As soon as his dark, decadent promise hit the air, Jayd fought what it did to every cell of her blood. The war of ice and flames, of dread and delight.

What the hell was wrong with her?

Why did she already know that this would be the singular experience she remembered from Paris, perhaps even replacing the frustration locating her father? Why did she already know it would alter her for life beyond the membrane Brickham was about to break? Why did she already know that the mere thought of that act—being broken apart, by him—was the dirty secret at the crux of this conflict?

Because that thought should have her recoiling from him.

Instead, she was sighing and undulating beneath him. Hating him for the sharp pinches and invasive thrusts—before the next second came, and she adored him for what erupted in place of the pain. The stings. The heat. The sizzles. The lust…

“Pixie.”

His voice was like molten rain, riding the wind in her senses. She could feel it on her skin but not catch it with her thoughts. They were rushed along on that storm too. And the whirlwind was so wonderful…

“Jayd.”

But there the man went again, tethering her down. “Hmm?” she snapped. “What?”

“Open your eyes. Goddammit, right now.”

She almost thanked him for the dictate. She was just in time to watch as he withdrew his fingers from her, using them to pull down the zipper of his jeans. He made short work of pushing down the pants past her field of vision, likely to his ankles.

When he straightened, he carried his wallet in one hand, and his bare cock in the other.

Jayd choked on her own air.

“By all the saints,” she finally husked—and meant it. Surely the saints had intervened when the angels were shaping this man, because the pillar between his thighs was the most magnificent thing she had ever beheld. It was dark and firm and proud, its length covered by indigo striations. Those veins pointed the way to a broad, shiny bulb, already wet with the milky drops that he captured with his thumb and massaged along its length.

“Not sure you want to extend an invitation to them right now, Pixie.” His voice was coarse, its volume modulating in time to his self-pleasure.

“Sir…”

“Yeah?”

“You are beautiful.”

He kicked up one side of his mouth. “Thank you, little one. So are you.”

“You are also…”

“What, Pixie?”

“Big,” she finally blurted.

“Which is why this is going to hurt.”

He ended that by aiming his shaft straight for her entrance—but in the moment before Jayd would have fully flinched, he lifted his erection and rested it atop her lower belly. Why that made her breathe in relief, she had no idea.

“That’s also why I’m going to ask you, one more time, if you really want this.” He interrupted himself with a rugged grunt as his gaze fell to the same place as hers. To the sight of his swollen flesh along hers. The view that proved, more than anything, how drastically he was going to stretch her. How deeply he was going to impale her. “Speak up now, woman. Because once we get started—”

“I know.” But she also thought they had already started, so maybe she knew nothing. Still, she pushed on. “I know, Brickh— Sir. And I want this.” While a hard gulp thudded down her throat, she raised her stare back up to his face. The blue fires in his gaze made it easier to amend. “I want you. All of you. Inside me.”