Destroyed (Lost in Oblivion, #3)(87)

Tori licked the palm of her hand and increased her grip and the pressure on Nick’s cock until his hips were lifting to meet each stroke.

Simon nosed the cup of her bra aside enough to get to her nipple. He tongued her, flicking over the tip as he watched their neighbors. Simon’s gaze bounced from watching her watch them to simply observing Nick and Tori. And the whole time he sucked on her nipple until it stung. Until it ached.

Finally Simon lifted her up and stood. “Enough,” he whispered against her neck. “I can’t share you any longer.”

His raspy voice knocked her off her axis and stole the tenuous control she had over the insane situation. He strode down the length of the bus to her bunk and tore back the curtain.

His eyes were fierce and possessive, his touch almost rough as he stripped her shirt off, flipped her bra cups up and fell onto her breasts.

She’d never felt Simon cover her before. Pin her against walls, against tile, a bus, but never the delicious pressure of his pelvis fitting into the bowl of her hips. He opened her legs until he fit against her tighter.

His jeans still on, her shorts still buttoned, but he didn’t seem to care about that quite yet. His sole focus was her breasts.

He laced their fingers and brought them over her head until the backs of her hands were pinned against the carpeted surface. He went from one to the other, sucking and biting until she bucked under him.

Still, he didn’t stop.

She was at his mercy, her breasts thrust high. The heavy curve of the underside was on display because she was spread out like she was on a rack of his own creation.

“Is it wrong that I want to see silver through these?” he asked with a sandpaper whisper.

She shuddered at the thought of his nipple rings. God, she couldn’t stop herself from touching them. Except now, when he’d caged her hands.

“Do they hurt?”

“Sore,” he said on a breath of air. “So sensitive, though.” He released one of her hands and flipped his T-shirt off. He hovered over her, his chest above her mouth.

She lifted off the pillow and traced the ring then tucked her tongue in and tugged it away from his body. His groan was hurtful to her own ears, but the ecstasy on his face made her tug it again.

He shivered above her and as he lowered she coasted her mouth over his chest to his shoulder and sunk her teeth into the muscles there.

“Mark me,” he whispered. “I’m yours as much as you’re mine.” He laved and sucked along her neck and found her pulse as he always did.

Unerringly.

Lovingly.

The sting of his tiny bite zipped through her like lightning and ended at her clit. It pounded with each rasp of his tongue and the ceaseless undulation of his hips into hers.

But everything felt bigger here in this tiny space. As if she couldn’t get away from him, or more importantly that she didn’t want to.

She squeezed his fingers. “Simon, I need…”

“You need what?”

She was so empty.

The thought of telling him that was so huge and so scary that she shut it down.

She didn’t own him. Had never owned him, she was only borrowing.

“I’m yours.”

Her eyes flew open and he gazed at her without fear and without a lick of hesitancy.

“I’ve always been yours, Violin Girl. I’ve just been hoping you would take me.”

Too huge.

Too much.

She buried her face in his neck as he brought one hand down to his fly. She could hear the metal buttons clicking against each other as he tipped to his side just enough to get himself free.

The snap of latex and then he was rocking into her, his pelvis tilting against her. He watched as she took him inside her body.

She curled her free arm around his neck and they met forehead to forehead as he drove into her. Friction. Heat. So much of both. He swiveled his hips and the control she clung to dissipate like fog in sunlight.

He canted his hips until the stroke was so overwhelming and so deep that he touched every part of her. She squeezed her eyes shut against the waves of pleasure that swallowed her.

“No. Open those eyes. See this, see us.”

Her vision wavered, but she managed to stay locked into him as her orgasm started in the center of her and radiated out like starlight, like the spotlights that blinded her some nights, like a note that resonated through her skin and became part of her.

“I love you, Margo.”

She tore her hand out from under his and cupped the back of his head with both hands. She couldn’t find the words, couldn’t even trap the words that tried to form in her throat. They completely failed her.

She’d never given them before.

Her body shuddered under him and she turned her face into his neck.

Oh God. What had she done?





19





Simon’s shoulders heaved as he held onto her. She’d gone from tense and wrapped around him to pliant and quiet.

Watching her in the main part of the bus, the curiosity glowing in her dark eyes as she danced with Tori, when she almost let it be more…

Fuck. He’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life. The awakening of her confidence, the sway of her hips as she let the music and the moment take her over.

But then Tori had dared to touch her.

Where that would have been a dream come true a year ago, the thought of someone else touching her, of Nick watching her—he’d held on as long as he could. He’d wanted to celebrate that bloom of sexual awareness she’d found.