CHAPTER 55 Torj
CHAPTER 55
Torj
‘A bodyguard’s focus must remain undivided. His business is the safety of his charge, nothing more’
– Mastering the Craft of Close Protection
H E HAD NEVER seen anything more erotic than Wren in that scrap of fabric. His cock pulsed relentlessly, straining painfully against his leathers as he drank her in. Her breasts were exposed and flushed, perfect nipples hard as the hem of her shift rose, revealing more of her thighs, and that sacred place between them.
He didn’t dare breathe, not while Wren spread her legs, her fingers rubbing decadent circles over her core. Her eyes didn’t leave his, not once, as she worked herself, her breaths coming hard and fast.
‘I want you to show me.’ Her voice was low and demanding.
‘Show you?’
One of her hands drifted up to capture her nipple between her fingers. And her request? It nearly ruined him.
‘Show me what you do when you moan my name at night.’
‘Furies save me,’ he muttered, his eyes glued to her, mouth dry at the sight. ‘Only this,’ he said. ‘We’ll allow ourselves this. Just this once.’
‘Just once,’ she agreed breathlessly, still playing with her clit.
Was she going to slide a finger inside herself? Would her knees buckle beneath her as she found her release in front of him? He didn’t dare cross into her room, the line between them clear. Instead, he stayed leaning against the door frame, needing the support, not sure he’d manage to stay upright for this. His hands shook as they went to the laces of his leathers, the bulge there undeniable.
Wren licked her lips as he worked the ties loose, and at last freed his cock, the tip already beading with moisture.
He heard her sharp inhale as he wrapped his hand around the thick base and glided it over his shaft in one unhurried stroke. Her heated stare alone made him want to explode, the urge unfurling, threatening to crest with every pump of his hand.
A distant voice at the back of his mind told him this was ridiculous, standing there touching themselves in front of one another. But another voice goaded him, told him that it was fine, that there was still a line between them they weren’t crossing, that they could do this one thing to ease the want, the lust—
Torj moaned as he fucked his hand and Wren’s finger slid from her clit to her entrance, disappearing inside her. Gods, there had never been a more glorious sight.
‘Put your foot on the chair,’ he ordered hoarsely, jerking his chin to the stool at her side.
He expected her to deny him, but her leg was already lifting, baring more of her to him. She spread herself wide for him, showing him the wetness coating her finger as it slid in and out of her.
‘I’m pretending this is your cock,’ she told him, whimpering as she increased the pace and added another digit.
He matched the stroke of his hand to what he saw before him, imagining the wet heat of her clamped around him. ‘How does it feel?’
‘Tight,’ she moaned. ‘And so good. Like I could break apart at any second.’
‘It’d be a lot tighter with my cock driving into you.’ He squeezed the thickness of his shaft for emphasis.
‘I know.’
It was intoxicating, watching her play with herself without being able to touch her. An excruciating form of torture, but he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop stroking his cock, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the bounce of her full breasts as she fingered herself with one hand, and rubbed her clit with the other.
‘That’s it, Embers...’ he murmured, pleasure building at the base of his spine, gathering in his balls as he worked his shaft. ‘Show me exactly what you like.’
How they were both still standing, he didn’t know – nor did he care, because the view of Wren spread out for him with one leg perched on the stool was to die for. He could see her desire glistening across her skin, could hear the subtle wet sound as she pushed her fingers into that slick heat over and over.
She bit her lip, her eyes glazed over with lust, trained on the motions of his hand, up and down over his length, pausing when it got too much to squeeze the damp tip.
Wren let out a strained cry, and he knew she must be close.
Gods, he didn’t want it to be over. This small taste of her would drive him to madness, knowing that he’d never have it, have her, again. But Torj was also on the precipice of no return, his own climax edging towards detonation.
He drank in the sight of her flushed body and met her gaze. ‘Let me see how you fall apart, Embers.’
His words were like a match to kindling. Wren’s head tipped back in ecstasy, and he watched as her release barrelled through her, her knees buckling just as he’d imagined, another moan spilling from her mouth.
Beautiful. Perfect.
Everything.
At last, he let himself go over the edge, his own orgasm like a storm of her making, rattling him to the very fibre of his being, lighting that spark that lived inside his chest where Wren had marked him for ever.
Torj came with a shout, spilling his release into his hand, his eyes not leaving Wren as each burst rolled through him, until he was spent.