Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)(75)

Erratic, my pulse sped, a hammering thunder beating out from every cell.

Oh God.

I whimpered.

His mouth brushed the shell of my ear. “All you have to say is no.”

Shivers spread far and free. My body alight. Shuddering, my hands fisted tighter onto the metal. “I can’t.”

I didn’t want to. I wanted him and everything he had to give. For him to mark me and scar me, to leave me with the memories of what he’d taken the time to erase.

My breath hitched when I felt him running the tip of his cock up and down the crease of my ass. The only barrier my black lace underwear.

“Blue,” he murmured. He shifted and placed the palm of his free hand flat on my chest. Against the battering roar of my heart, the same as what I felt beating against my back.

Tonight. Tonight. Tonight.

That’s all we had, and I leaned back, into the scorching heat of his body. An entreaty for more.

“Please.”

My gaze tipped to watch as his tattooed hand explored downward, dragging over my breasts. My stomach quivered as he pressed against my belly, before his fingers dipped into the front of my panties. Gently he brushed between my folds, exhaled against my ear.

“So warm. So soft. So good.”

I panted.

On a grunt, he released his hands from my wrists and began to remove my panties. Like I weighed nothing, he lifted me enough to drag them down my legs and free them from my ankles.

“You’re mine,” rumbled from his mouth.

The sound at my ear sent an electric charge racing down my spine. It gathered low. I could feel it building and building and building. The excitement and the thrill. The flashes of energy in the air. The anticipation thick. A consuming cloud disorienting my senses.

Mine.

I wanted to be.

But that was just a fantasy.

He flicked the clasp at the back of my bra. The straps tickled down my arms that were still pinned to the headboard.

He grunted, his breaths labored, his chest heaving against my back. That motion only served to wind me higher and higher as our skin brushed.

Hot and fevered.

“He tied you up.” It was a pained lament at my ear, so low and full of anger I shivered. In anticipation or fear, I wasn’t sure which.

I nodded.

Lyrik already knew he did.

“Do you trust me?”

I nodded again.

It should have been in reluctance. But it wasn’t. Because I did. I trusted him with my body and foolishly trusted him with my heart—my spirit so desperate with longing to feel—to feel close to someone who understood.

Lyrik West was the only one who could.

He wound my bra around my wrists and tied it to the headboard. Loosely. The hold not a restraint but a promise.

He whispered in my ear, “All you have to say is no. All you have to say is no. You are in control. You control me. You own me…” The last trailed off in some kind of misery.

I swayed on my knees, overcome by lust and by this man. He enclosed me with his body, his darkness a protective shroud.

His hands tightened on the headboard on either side of mine. “What do you want, Red?”

“You. Everything. Everywhere. Take me.” It tumbled out like water gushing from a collapsing dam.

Freed.

Sucking in a breath, he positioned himself at my center and thrust into me from behind.

So deep and hard.

I gasped.

Breath gone.

He pulled out and did it again.

“Blue…Blue…Blue.” It was a blur of mumbled affection.

I wanted to beg him to call me Red. But she was nowhere within the room. Every vulnerability, every fear, and every hope was committed to him.

He drove into me.

Again and Again.

Relentless.

Merciless.

Ruthless.

Hands moved to clutch my hips. Fingers burrowed into my skin.

“Do you trust me?” he demanded again. Desperation had taken over, his movements almost frantic. “Tell me, Blue. Tell me you trust me. Want to take it all the way. Let me.”

“I trust you.”

He reached over to the nightstand and rummaged in the drawer. The tube he produced made my already erratic pulse take off at breakneck speed. He pulled out of me, and I could feel him shaking. Shaking just as uncontrollably as me. I panted and gripped at the headboard as I waited, my head bowed, the hair falling around my face obscuring my vision.

Yet every move played out in vivid Technicolor that flashed in black and white.

He uncapped the tube and coated himself, before his fingers were on me.

Gentle.

Gentle as he swept them up and down the cleft of my ass.

I stiffened as he slowly pushed one finger inside.

“All you have to say is no.” His voice spun around me like a whirlwind. Whipping and whirring.

He knew this was my greatest fear.

A physical barrier.

One I was offering to him.

“It’s you, Blue…you.” His hand was suddenly back at the front of my neck, under my chin, his mouth next to mine as he forced me to look up at him. His eyes were so dark and hard and tortured. Although when they locked on mine they went soft.

“Do you hear me?” he whispered. “It’s you.”

“I hear you.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his body shook with restraint as he adjusted and carefully began to press into me.