Fractured Freedom(58)
He slid another finger into me and scissored them back and forth to the slow rhythm of him pumping his cock. “I like knowing everything about you. You made it seem like I didn’t.”
“I can’t … can we just focus here?”
“Oh, I’m focused, Lamb.”
I pushed another two stitches through, harder than I should have. He enjoyed me writhing underneath him while I tried to do the job I’d gone four years to school for, which was to make a patient comfortable even while they were in pain.
The scruff of his face brushed against my ear as he nipped it and whispered, “I like the pain, Lilah. Make sure you make your mark with those stitches. I want to know they’re yours and will be on me forever.”
“I take pride in my work, Dante,” I told him through clenched teeth, trying my best not to drop the needle and jump on his dick. “I probably won’t even leave a scar.”
His teeth bit down hard on my neck this time, and he slid his fingers out of me fast so that he could slap my clit. I was on my seventh stitch, and I almost jumped off the counter with my gasp. His chest slammed into mine as he wrapped one arm around my waist and devoured my lips. He sucked my tongue into his mouth like he was starved for it, like suddenly I was all he needed to live. “Tie it so I can get to heaven, Lilah. If I don’t fuck you now, I’m going to turn into an animal.”
I fumbled over my knot. It should have been so easy, but I couldn’t focus on anything except his cock near my pussy, my body against his, his mouth skimming over my skin and down my collarbone toward my breasts.
Then he smirked at me. “Done?”
I bit my lip, knowing that this was us crossing the line. “If we do this, Dante—”
“I know. You still want to Eat Pray Love.” He swore under his breath. “I thought about this throughout the day and, damn, I want to, but I can’t give you what you want, Lilah,” he murmured, his forehead on mine.
I nodded into him, like I agreed, like my heart didn’t fracture at his words, like just him shutting down the idea of us shouldn’t hurt. But it did. It smashed hope that had somehow leaked in past the walls I’d built up. And even with the pieces of my hopeful heart shattered on the ground, I pursued the stupid road we were going down.
It was my hand that slid between us and pushed my panties to the side. “I’m still clean and on birth control.”
“Shit, I don’t think it’d matter to me at this point,” he ground out like he was waiting for me to give him the go-ahead.
“Make me see stars in heaven, Dante Armanelli.”
He didn’t even hesitate. His cock was already at my entrance, and he thrust in deep, the cool metal of his piercing rubbing the soft flesh of my walls as his gaze, the color of evergreens deep in a forest, jumped to my neck. He caught my every movement and I hated that he probably knew what they all meant. His hands gripped my hips as I arched, his dick pulsed into just the right spot within me, and I clung to him for every ounce of ecstasy I could get.
“Don’t you get that you’re the heaven, Lamb? You’re the heaven.” He whispered it in my ear over and over as he thrust in and out. The metal on his cock was too much, the feel of him in me after all these years was like finally being full after being empty, finally being found after being lost, finally being healed after being broken.
Our pieces, whatever we thought was ruined, somehow fit together to make something beautiful.
I felt my pussy tightening, and as his hand rolled over my nipple, he murmured, “You better look at the man who makes you come, Lilah.”
Staring into his vivid eyes, I lost myself and screamed his name over and over as his cock pumped hard into me.
Keeping my legs around him, I took every last second of us connected, trying to savor and hold on to the moment, because I knew when he bent to kiss me that it was a goodbye to this part of us. I knew he didn’t think our relationship was going any further.
To him, we’d met the animal urge and now we needed to walk away, be responsible, be what everyone always wanted us to be.
I hated the thought.
His muscles went taut, and I ran my hands over his abs, his biceps, and his back as he thrust one last time, emptying himself into me.
We stared at one another, panting heavily. Then my forehead fell to his shoulder as he slowly withdrew from me.
“Jesus,” I breathed out as I felt each of his piercings against my sensitive flesh. “Those could be dangerously addictive.”
He hummed. “Only with the right guy.” Then he glanced up and winked at me. His cock slid the rest of the way out of me, and he stood there, completely exposed, my arousal glistening on him and his seeping out of me.
I moved to close my legs, but his hand shot out to hold them open there on the counter.
“You right here are a fucking fantasy, Lamb. Don’t move. I get the honor of cleaning my mess off you.”
I stared down at myself as he grabbed a white hand towel from the shelf near the mirror and tested the water before he put the cloth under it. My breasts felt heavy and swollen from what we’d done; his hands had rubbed them so hard that the red marks would be staying for a few hours. My body glistened with a sheen of sweat, and my pussy was bare and open for anyone to see the milky evidence he’d left behind.
He stepped between my legs and looked down too as he licked his lips. “I swear I belong in you forever. Nothing looks this good unless it’s meant to be.”