Take (Need #2)(46)

His eyes snap open, flashing up at me with all the hunger of a dangerous predator. With a frustrated growl, he sets in, tonguing me hard, so hard I almost can’t take it.

That pain, the pressure, it’s too much—

He softens the strokes of his tongue, kissing me tenderly.

It sends me over the edge. I lock up and whimper incoherently as the wave crashes over me.

Brayden licks up every bit of my orgasm. The horny, frantic sounds he makes leave me bucking wantonly on his mouth.

I just came, and as always I need more, more.

When will it ever end?

He rips me off his mouth. My thighs shake. It’s impossible to hold myself up. Hands wrapped around my waist, he lifts me again, maneuvering me under him on the couch.

I whisper his name, my heart hammering in my rib cage.

Brayden crawls over me, cupping my face. “I’m not done with you, baby.”

Fuck, I remember what happened the last time he said that to me.

Oh God, can I even take any more?

He lowers his mouth down to mine, feeding me my own taste, and I know without a doubt that I can.

I’ll take everything he can give me.

And then I plan on taking even more.

I plan on taking everything I can from this man.





My eyes snap open as my whole body jumps with a jolt. I’m in my bed, on my side, curled around a pillow. Light tickles on my skin, tracing lines around my ribs, around my tattoo. The touch is soft, familiar, soothing, and instead of swatting it away, annoyed someone dare touch me there, I relax back into my pillow. I open my eyes again as it clicks who could be touching me and crane my neck over my shoulder.

Kira.

She’s completely naked, sitting on her haunches, staring down at my tattoo as her fingers trail around. Her hair is a wild, tangled mess, evidence of the many times I fisted it, the ends resting just above her nipples.

It feels like a dream and I wait to wake up, staring at her.

I can’t help the smile forming on my face as the memories of last night come back. My cock stirs as I remember being inside her.

My Kira.

“Morning.” My voice is rough, throat dry.

She looks up, her gaze meeting mine, but my happiness doesn’t reflect back.

“When did you get this?” she asks.

I swallow hard and rest my head back on the pillow while still looking at her. “Last August.”

Her brow scrunches, and she turns back to it. “Why? I mean, why this?”

I clench my jaw and draw in a breath. “Can we not, right now? Can you just lie back down?”

She shakes her head. “What does it mean?”

I reach out to bring her attention back to me. If I’m going to tell her, she needs more than just her ears to hear it. “At first, I was just drunk and getting a tattoo, but I saw this in the guy’s notebook. My drunk mind knew what my sober one couldn’t admit, so I didn’t even understand why at first.”

Her fingers stop. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s part of the story, so let me finish.” I pinch her side and she swats at the closest part of me, which happens to be my ass.

“What does it mean, then?”

“You’re into art . . . don’t you see it? Ryan told me recently he knew what it meant.”

She huffs, annoyed. “Just tell me, jackass.”

“It’s us.”

Her eyes widen and she stares back down at it, crawling around the mermaid’s hair.

“You know I’m not into that sickly sweet romance crap, that I’m emotionally stunted, but when I saw the drawing . . . It was the perfect representation of us, at that time.” I brush the backs of my fingers against her cheek. “Both have feelings for each other, but it’s an impossible relationship. A man in a world he can’t live, wanting a woman he can’t have.”

Her face twists, and I wonder if she’s about to cry, wonder if I’ve finally gotten to her. Instead, she grabs my wrist and pulls my arm away from the pillow, sending me onto my back, spread out. There are no tears, but anger as she straddles my hips and places her palms on my chest.

She slaps at the K over my heart. “And this? What the f*ck is this?”

This conversation needs to happen, but my cock is hard and twitches at the feel of her * on my lower abs, so close to its home inside her. I want to push down on her hips and slide in.

My seething, hissing Kitty is so angry at me, and I realize that last night did not win the war, just the first of many battles to come. The pain I etched in her is too deep to fill in only one night. Even after the mending we’ve done.

“Your brand on me.”

“I didn’t put it there.”

“Maybe not this physical representation, but you did eleven years ago. What lies beneath, my heart, has been yours since then.”

Her teeth are bared at me, eyes on fire and boring so hard into me. “Liar.”

I reach up with my left hand to cup her cheek and she flinches away, then slams my arm back down to the bed. All of her weight rests on it as she stares at the little grey-wash kitty with her eye color. Her face twists again, and a single tear begins to slide down her cheek.

Finally, she sees them, understands that all of my tattoos represent her. Nailed into my flesh for all to see her ownership of me.