Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)(73)

I blinked and more tears fell. The moisture slipped into the webs of his fingers. He squeezed my face, his shoulders bunching and his body swaying in indecision. His gaze flicked between my eyes and my mouth. His tongue swept across that delicious bottom lip, before any timidity vanished.

His mouth came down with the force of a landslide. His tongue drove between my lips, meeting with the resistance in mine. It quickly morphed into surrender.

Because I was already gone.

Lost to this man. To his darkness and his ghosts and his hard, unattainable heart.

I was a fool.

A fool.

A fool.

A fool.

Giving in was only going to hurt me that much more.

But right then, I didn’t care.

Because the world was spinning and there was nothing in it that felt better than him. Nothing better than the softness of his lips and the desire on his tongue, his hot hands on my body as his begged against mine.

I clutched his shoulders and pushed up onto my toes.

Dying for more.

That’s exactly what it felt like.

As if I would die if I didn’t get this one last night.

One last taste.

One last memory.

Because the scars were still there—the old wounds still raw and aching—and confusion still reigned in my heart and mind. My spirit was more unsure of my future now than it’d ever been. But tonight, only this moment mattered.

“I wasn’t finished,” he growled low. Teeth grazed at my chin, before his kiss took a needy path down my neck. Lyrik sucked at my pulse point. It made me gasp and writhe and moan.

“Two months,” he mumbled. “I was supposed to have two months. Two months to erase. Two months to leave my mark. Two months to make you know nothing else but my name.”

I shuddered beneath his murmurings. This man had no idea how deeply he had. The eternal impressions he had made and the magnitude of the hole he would leave behind.

“Tell me no, Blue. Tell me no,” he begged as he forced me closer, the desperation in his perfect body in direct contrast to his words. His kiss devoured my mouth, just as this man demolished my senses and devastated the last shred of my willpower.

Lyrik West owned me.

But this was my own personal demise.

My choice.

Given on my own accord.

This single night surrendered to him.

Even though I knew the aftermath might destroy me. I had so little left holding me together. But I felt like I needed this to survive.

The overwhelming anger and betrayal, the need and hope, boiled to a tumultuous frenzy. Overflowing. Stripping me bare. “I hate you,” I muttered again as delirium hit, my fingers clawing and my mouth demanding, my body pressing and pleading.

I hated him for chasing me.

Hated him for exposing me.

Hated him for making me feel this way.

Hated myself for needing him so much.

And God, how I loved it all.

“You make me forget who I am,” he said in return as he hiked me up. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his waist.

And Lyrik kissed me like he was never going to kiss me again.

Because we both knew it was the truth.

“Slow.” It flowed as a murmur from his soul. A reminder of who we were. Of what he’d given me. Of the security he’d made me feel in these arms that were so strong and comforting when instead I should have perceived their threat.

I wanted to weep—the emotion so dense I choked on it—because tomorrow he’d be gone and he would take it all with him.

My dignity.

My heart.

My soul.

He owned them all.

He carried me into the quiet dimness of my apartment and down the short hall into my bedroom. He set me on the floor and took two steps back. With that potent gaze locked on me, he kicked off his shoes. His heavy pants filled the already thickened air.

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded. “I want to see you.”

A ragged breath jetted from between my swollen, bruised lips.

There he was. That intimidating man who didn’t tiptoe or treat me like glass. The one who didn’t treat me like a broken girl. Even when I knew he was getting ready to break me a little more.

He peeled his shirt over his head.

My eyes strayed, dancing across the body I wanted to sink into and disappear forever.

Suppressing a groan, I ate up the magnificent sight in front of me. No doubt, it would be the last one I would get.

“Now,” he said.

My attention jerked to those consuming eyes, and I shuddered as I slipped out of my heels, my height dropping by five inches.

The man towered over me.

Impassable.

Impenetrable.

Unattainable.

But for tonight, he was mine.

My fingers trembled and fumbled as I worked free the first button on my blouse, exposing the top portion of the deformed heart tattoo.

Guard your heart.

Too late.

It belonged to him.

Chest heaving, I went for the second. Lyrik’s body visibly hardened.

“Do you know how many girls I’ve been with?” The words were jagged, to the point of anger.

I sucked in a breath and my fingers stalled. “Please, don’t,” I begged. That was the last thing I wanted to know. The countless bodies and faces and girls who’d come before me. The ones who would most definitely come after. Still I managed to free the third button. My lacy white bra came into view.