Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)(51)

Both my hands cupped the fullness of her tits, squeezing and lifting so I could tease and torture and make her squirm as I turned to the opposite nipple.

“I need you,” she said as she clawed at my shirt. Cool air hit my back as she tore it off, and those fingers sank right back into my skin. Begging as they burned and scraped and pleaded for more.

This was the more I could give her.

She deserved more, but I’d give all I could. For her.

I wanted her to trust me in a way she hadn’t trusted anyone since that bastard had broken her. For her to know she was beautiful, and what he’d done didn’t have the power to define her.

Didn’t have the power to destroy her.

I wanted her to know I saw something beautiful.

Something good.

A precious gift given to this world.

My head spun and my heart hammered a warning in my ribs. It caught time with the beat of hers, wild and erratic and violent, her breaths just as harsh.

Frantic, she dragged my mouth back to hers.

Tingles rolled across my flesh, and this achy feeling compelled me I was doing something wrong. Violating a promise. But I did nothing but kiss her back.

Because I couldn’t f*cking stop.

Her tongue slipped past my lips in a delicious tease, tangling around mine. Eager and demanding.

Every inch of me lit.

A hazardous frenzy thundered through my veins, and I pressed up onto my palms. My head dipped down as I kissed her wild. My jean-covered cock pressed into her bare *. Underserved need squeezed every cell, filling my breaths and my lungs and my head.

No.

I squeezed my eyes closed and she kissed me more. Fevered hands searched my skin like she might find a weak spot. A way in. Access to what was buried inside.

“Lyrik,” she breathed as her hands trailed down over my shoulders. Her touch sent shock waves burning across my skin. Fingernails scraped down my chest before they were working at my fly.

And I felt fear slipping over me. Something haunting and dark. While everything else came alive.

A tortured contradiction.

But that’s what I craved.

The push and the pull.

I wanted. I wanted it all. Wanted to know every inch.

Her body. Her heart. Her mind.

Easing back an inch, I glanced up at her face, then I looked right back down, gaze intent on where I palmed her sex, watching as I pushed two fingers inside.

So f*cking wet and warm and perfect.

Her walls clamped down and she arched off the bed. Her mouth parted on a silent moan.

Gorgeous.

Ripples of anxiety surged. I wasn’t ever going to get enough.

I rushed back to take more of that mouth.

That sweet, sweet mouth.

I kissed her and kissed her while I struggled to pump her slowly. To keep control when all I wanted was to let go. I wanted everything. Everywhere. All at once.

To consume and devour and lay all her fears and reservations to waste.

To take and take and take.

To give and give and give.

Delirium.

I let my hand go trailing back.

Fingers slick.

I pushed two into her tight, perfect ass.

I wanted there, too.

She jerked and I did the same, jumping back just in time to catch the fear in her expression. Those blue eyes had gone dark, the girl getting sucked back into that depraved place.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

What the f*ck had I been thinking? Getting reckless with this girl? I should have known. And that tiny spec that was my conscious screamed I was making mistake after mistake. It screamed I was a sinner and selfish. That I was twisted and sick. And I knew right then I didn’t have the guts to let her go. Not yet. Not when she was this close. This close to being free.

Tears slipped free from the corners of her eyes, wet streams streaking down and disappearing into her hair, while my heart went frantic with regret and hate and the need to slaughter whoever had hurt her this way.

I wrapped her in my arms.

“Don’t leave me,” I murmured harshly, clutching her tighter. “I’m right here. It’s me, Blue. It’s me. Baby, you just have to tell me no. I’m not ever going to hurt you.”

But the way her eyes flicked all over my face? I already knew. I already f*cking knew I was hurting her because I wanted to take everything and I couldn’t offer her the same in return.

She bucked up. The head of my dick poking out from the waist of my unclasped jeans rubbed against her. Still crying, she burrowed her fingers into my shoulders, as if she were transferring some of her pain over to me.

“Please…just…f*ck me,” she begged.

That sick part of me? He wanted to. The part that wanted her so f*cking bad I’d take everything and anything I could get. But instead I was kissing her again, murmuring “slow” at those red lips. Thanking God she was with me. That I hadn’t messed up so bad she was a curled up ball in the middle of the bed.

But this was what I did.

I found the little bits of good hidden behind a mask, sought them out, and brought them into the light.

Then I destroyed them with one crushing blow.

“I trust you,” she said, holding me tighter and rubbing her bare center against me.

Trust.

Motherf*cker. I wanted to weep. I felt it. Emotion gripping my chest like I was being strangled. A noose around my neck.