BEAUTIFUL BROKEN MESS (Broken, Series #2)(49)

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. That night, I was on such a high that I don’t remember whatever idiotic thing I said. I was drunk and I finally had you in my arms. And then I passed out so quickly afterward,” he pleads, and then tightens his grip on me to emphasize a point. “But don’t you dare think for one second that I don’t remember every single touch and feeling I had with you. I remember the way every inch of you felt under my fingers. I remember the way your skin tasted, and I sure as hell didn’t forget the way I fit inside you so damn perfectly. It literally makes me ache at the loss.”



JACE -

Just thinking about that night again is making me throb with need. She may have tried to kick my balls up into my stomach earlier, but that doesn’t mean I’m out of the game. Especially with her standing practically naked in front of me. I want her to know that this conversation is imperative to me, but my eyes are straining from the effort of trying to keep them on her face. Damn peripheral vision is f*cking with me, because I can see her gorgeous tits so close to my chest and I just want to taste them.

“Tell me what I said… please,” I rasp out quietly.

She doesn’t speak, just continues staring at me with her hypnotizing eyes that could suck a guy in and make him hand over whatever she wanted without a second thought. When her bottom lip sticks out a fraction, I press my body up against hers and kiss her deeply. Never mistake me for a man that doesn’t strike when an opportunity arises. Her hands reach out to my chest and it feels as if she may push me away, but then she melts into me and her hands slide across my skin.

My fingers thread through her hair and I grip her scalp tightly as I walk her backward across the floor. When she bumps into the desk, I cup her from behind and lift her onto the edge of the smooth wood. Her little fingers run across my stomach and over my chest, all while her lips devour mine. I sit my ass down in the chair that’s situated in front of her, and thankfully I’m tall enough to still be at the same level as her lips. But sadly, her fingers can’t dance across my skin anymore.

I break the kiss and park my body in between her thighs, lifting one beautiful leg after another to rest each foot on the tops of my thighs. The view in front of me is f*cking phenomenal. I want to consume her legs, since they are featured in about fifty-percent of my dreams about her. I imagine her legs in the air, wrapped around my waist, intertwined with my legs, and my favorite, draped around my face.

My lips begin to trace an invisible line that stretches from her ankles up to her inner thighs. She grabs onto my head and tugs my hair. I shake my head back and forth without removing my lips or even looking at her, “Hands on the desk, Audrey.” With a strangled moan, she immediately latches onto the desk. Audrey craves the surrender and I need the control; this is one of the many reasons why our bodies cry for one another.

I lift my eyelids and see that lust engulfs her. As my mouth lightly caresses the skin on her thighs, I watch short little breaths soar in and out of her lips, which form the shape of an ‘o’. Her fingers clamp down onto the edge of the desk and her knuckles are turning white, a sure sign that she’s barely containing herself. I smile against her soft skin at the tenacity of this woman.

Slowly my fingers catch up to my mouth and I rub across her sad excuse for panties. When she whimpers, I lift up so I’m eye-level with her and lick at the edges of her lips until she opens, and then cover her mouth with mine. Her body begins to rock against my fingers, so I slide the fabric over to feel how ready she is.

Groaning, I say, “God, I can’t wait to be inside of you. It’s been too damn long, but I remember exactly how you feel.”