Broken Wings (A Romantic Suspense)(48)

“Ellie, did you ever think… Do you blame me for your dad? Do you think it’s my fault he died?”

She doesn’t say anything for a while. Her breath grows soft and regular and I start to wonder if she’s fallen asleep.

“I don’t know. I don’t remember. Why?”

“I’m afraid. It scares me that you might.”

“Was it your fault, Jack? They never told me why it happened. When I asked Mom she’d change the subject. I had no one else to talk to about it. Do you remember it? I don’t remember anything. I don’t even remember eating dinner with you and Dad. It’s just gone.”

She turns her head up to look at me.

“I couldn’t steer,” I say, my voice trembling. “I tried, Ellie. It was like wrestling with a bank vault. The wheel wouldn’t budge, and when I put my foot on the brake, nothing. I stood on it with both feet and it didn’t do a goddamn thing.”

“Then it’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is,” I blurt out, without thinking. “I should have been going slower. I should have made him put his seat belt on. I should have put the car in neutral so it would slow down. I shouldn’t have panicked. I should have done something. I can’t stop thinking, if I hadn’t f*cked up, he’d be alive right now and you’d…” I trail off before I say it.

Ellie says nothing.

“You know what I’ve been thinking all these years?”

“What?”

“If I could take your place, I would. If I could take your dad’s place, I would.”

She sits up all at once, leaning on her arm, and scowls at me.

“I wouldn’t let you.”

“It should have been me.”

Ellie nudges my shoulder until I roll onto my back then throws her leg over my hip and straddles me. She lowers herself down and wraps her arms around me.

“I wouldn’t wish this on anybody. I don’t want to hear you wish it on yourself. I’m happy you made it out almost unhurt, Jack.”

“It hurt me the worst way it possibly could. It hurt you.”

Her head pops up. “Are you getting a hard-on?”

I smirk. “Can you blame me?”

She smiles, slides down a bit, and wriggles her hips. From the look on her face I know she can feel my now fully erect cock pressing against her. She wiggles until it’s pressed against her stomach and slowly undulates her body, making me even harder.

Ellie bites her bottom lip, pressing her teeth into it until the soft pink of her lip turns white, and gives me a look that makes me forget that one of her eyes is covered by a square of fabric.

I roll and take her with me, and then I’m on top of her, pumping my hips, grinding my cock into her stomach. Her hands roam down my back, her left hand scratching at me while her right hand kneads and squeezes. She spreads her fingers, gets a big handful of my ass, and clenches. My cock turns from stone to steel as I kiss her, tasting her.

She doesn’t turn away when I brush her scars with my lips. I know she can feel it more on the undamaged skin, so when I have my fill of tasting her lips—for now—I lick and kiss and nip at the soft skin of her throat until little moans bubble out of her.

Even with layers of sweatshirts between us I can feel her nipples against my chest. I move my hands up her sides and toy with them through her clothes, pressing hard. Ellie’s legs lift up and wrap around me and squeeze. I can feel the heat of her through her clothes.

My hand works into her underwear and slides under her. She’s so f*cking wet. I need to taste her. I tug her pants down in sharp jerks, my knuckles scraping the skin of her legs. I feel the shudder pass through her, and look up to see a tremor of embarrassment and excitement on her face as I expose her. I keep my eyes locked on her, watching her expression as I take my first taste, lightly, breathing in her scent as my tongue hints at her soft, wet lips before I pull away.

I love the way she stifles a little gasp, the way her hips buck and she reaches for my mouth with her *, begging me for it, her inhibitions fading. I can feel the need in her as I put my hands on her hips and hold her down. No, I’m not going to give in to her so quickly. I’m going to savor her.

Ellie bunches her fingers in my hair, pulling it, trying to jerk me this way and that. I know what she likes. I can feel it in the way it shocks through her whole body when my tongue feels the right spot, but I take my time. I’m shaking with excitement myself, my cock hard and throbbing and screaming at me, f*ck her, f*ck her now, and the furious lust burning in my veins grows hotter when I lick her clit and she stifles a moan with her hand.

She’s so tight around my finger, I can’t wait to sheathe my cock in her body and feel her heat. I can barely stand it, but I can taste her pleasure as my finger works inside her and my tongue drags delights out of her flesh.

I’m a little rough with her at first, enjoying the way she squirms and wriggles under me, her legs pinned down by my weight. She twists and writhes on the bed, and covers her face with her hands when it feels especially good, like she’s still embarrassed by it.

She grows closer by the minute. I can feel her quivering, her tight * gripping my finger. I want to be inside her, to stare into her eyes as I fill her. I could f*ck her for hours, come into her over and over again until I can’t take it anymore.

She jerks and whimpers, “Right there,” and that’s when I stop.