Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)(41)

Even though I knew doing so was just setting myself up to be broken more.

With my spirit pulled in every direction, I gave in and placed frantic kisses all over his chest, across the swirls of ink, and down the sharp cut of his abdomen. A canvas of beauty with so much hidden pain.

I jerked through the buttons of his fly.

“Shit,” Lyrik hissed, both shocked but still completely turned on. His cock jumped free when I pulled his jeans down to his thighs.

I shuddered a little at the sight of it. It was just as big, bold, and threatening as the rest of him.

My stomach knotted and my mouth went dry.

“Red,” he whispered on a moan when I wrapped both hands around him at the base, stroking up his length and gliding back down.

Everything shook. My heart and my hands and the room. Because I wanted this even though I was afraid.

Desire twisted through the fear as I watched the glistening bead appear at the tiny slit.

Maybe I was a fool, but I loved I had the ability to affect him this way.

I moaned as I leaned forward so I could taste. So I could experience this man. Of my own free will.

My. Choice.

That moan became a rumble in the back of my throat as I drew him deeply into my mouth. As far as I could take him. Both my hands began to work him in sync with my mouth.

I felt powerful and beautiful.

Real.

He bucked and arched and groaned, his hands tangled in my hair.

Exhilaration simmered in the air.

The thrill.

“Blue.”

A rush of energy captured me, and I kept on driving him higher and higher and higher. Until I knew he would break.

“Fuck,” he mumbled.

He clutched me tightly when he came. “Blue…Blue…Blue.”

I swallowed, riding with him through every last wave. Because I knew without a doubt, with him was where I wanted to be.

We both jerked and trembled with the aftershocks.

I collapsed forward onto his chest. Panting. Reeling.

Lyrik flung his forearm over his eyes, the other still rustling through my hair. Faint sounds of the traffic made it feel as if we were elevated above it all, our breaths and the pounding of our hearts and all the questions still roaring through my head the only sounds in the room.

His voice broke through the sudden quiet. “That was…unexpected.”

I chewed at my bottom lip while I let my fingertips play across the bristling muscle of his chest. “Yeah,” I whispered softly.

My need for him had hit with the force of a desert storm.

Because there was a piece of me already tethered to him. This piece that screamed we were the same. That we belonged.

Like Charlie had said, lonely recognized lonely.

And my heart recognized him.

Almost shyly, I peeked up at him. He grinned a sloppy grin.

Sated and satisfied.

“You, beautiful Blue, just completely blew my mind.”

“I think it’s you who continues to blow mine.”

He shifted me a fraction so he could readjust his pants, and I moved, turned my back on him.

Hit with a rush of awkwardness, I dug through my jeans and found my panties, then pulled them back on.

What are you doing, Tamar? He’s going to wreck you.

Destroy and plunder and invade.

My hands were shaking when I fumbled with my jeans. I froze when I felt his hot mouth moving slowly across my shoulder blade and kissing down my spine. From behind, he unwound my fingers from my jeans and dropped them back to the floor.

“Don’t get dressed,” he whispered against my skin. “Don’t hide from me. I want to feel you.”

Oh God. This man.

He saw right through it all.

How did he get me?

Lying back down, Lyrik took my hand and pulled me with him until I was completely sprawled across him. Chest to chest. He tucked my head under his chin. He let his fingers draw lazy circles down my back, and I shivered as I curled more deeply into his hold. His gentle touches explored, until he was moving across the skin of my lower back just above my underwear.

I flinched as he ran them purposefully across the old scars. As if he already knew they were there.

“He did this?” His voice was hoarse as he brought me back to my admission from earlier, and I could feel the tremor of violence that came with the question. I could feel his hatred for the man who had stolen my innocence and belief.

“That was my first tattoo,” I admitted into the stillness, clutching his side as he continued to caress across the scars.

Sometimes I wondered how the long-healed wounds that now were barely palpable could remain so profound.

“When I came here…to Savannah…I was so scared. I had no idea who I was or who I wanted to be. I only knew I didn’t want to be that stupid, naive girl anymore. I dyed my hair, changed the way I dressed, did my makeup differently. Anything so when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see simple, unsuspecting Tamar.”

I drew in a breath. “And as soon as those wounds were healed enough, I went and got them covered. There was something about it that made me feel brave. Stronger. As if I’d put some kind of separation between him and me. A barrier. As if I’d blocked some of it out.”

A tremor rolled through Lyrik, and his hold tightened in time with the hard breath he released. “Who was he? Tell me, baby. I need to know.”