Chapter 38
Iplan to ease in slowly. I really do. But the moment Presley positions herself against me, it’s like gravity. I’m helpless to stop the fall. With a few shallow thrusts, I’m buried to the hilt, standing at the motherfucking gates to heaven.
I break our kiss, my head falling to her shoulder on a groan. “Fuck, Pres.”
“I know,” she pants, rising up to almost the tip, before swiveling her hips and plunging back down again.
Christ.
I’ve never felt anything like this before. No woman has ever been able to match the hold Presley has over me, but this is beyond that. I feel like I’m in a fucking trance as I watch her hips rise and fall. Her rosy nipples call out to me like a siren, and I can no longer resist the temptation. While Pres takes me in deep like it’s her sole purpose in life, I bury my face in her tits, dying for a taste. She screams in pleasure, and her pussy clenches when I pull a pink tip into my mouth, simultaneously swirling my tongue and applying suction. Since she seems to like that so much, I do it to the other side for a minute before I sit up to watch the pure rapture dance across her face as she rides me.
Seeing Presley using my body to get off—and there’s no mistaking that’s exactly what she’s doing right now—is the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever experienced. Being with her was always incredible, but even that pales in comparison to this. Maybe it’s because she’s known so much pain in the years we were apart, she appreciates pleasure more. Maybe her wings have been clipped for so long, she remembers the freedom in flight. Maybe it’s simply because this magnetic attraction we share is much more powerful than it’s ever been, and it’s futile to resist.
Whatever the reason, seeing her like this is a thing of beauty, like watching a phoenix rise from the ashes. Presley knows what it’s like to suffer the unimaginable, and because of that, she’s evolved. In the midst of all the darkness in her mind, she’s created her own source of light, refusing to be caged any longer. This fierce woman has collected all her broken pieces and formed them into a magnificent mosaic. The transformation is stunning, and I’m so fucking honored she chose me to be a part of this. That bastard tried to destroy her, but the only thing he succeeded in doing was making her stronger. Presley doesn’t need me—or anyone for that matter—to be her salvation because she’s found it within herself.
In a flurry of moans, teeth-clashing kisses, and colliding hips, I fall more in love with this woman than I ever thought possible. When she comes apart in my arms, I trail kisses down the elegant slope of her neck, the feel of her rapidly beating pulse beneath my tongue. When her movements become choppy, I take over, bracketing her hips with my hands, thrusting into her from below.
“God, Beckett,” she says on a breathy sigh. “I forgot how good it could feel. I can’t believe I’ve...oh, God, just don’t stop.”
I set an unyielding pace, driving us to new heights, something neither one of us has ever experienced before. When Presley explodes one last time, I follow quickly behind, chanting her name over and over as I spill into the condom. We take a moment to stare at each other in wonder, to acknowledge this new dynamic of ours. She sighs when I brush some damp hair away from her face, planting a kiss on her temple. Neither one of us says a word, but the undeniable truth sits between us. We both know there’s no turning back after this. That neither one of us can return to the way things were. This beautiful, resilient woman and I are in this for the long-haul, and anyone stupid enough to come between us will most certainly regret it.
I prompt Presley to climb off of me before I soften too much and step into the bathroom to take care of the condom. When I return to my bedroom, she’s under the covers, her long blonde hair spilling over the pillows.
I lean against the busted doorjamb and take her in. “You look good in my bed, Pres.”
She smiles. “I bet the view’s even better up close.”
“Is that an invitation?”
Her eyes fall to my dick. “You’re lookin’ a little cold there, Beck. It’s nice and warm under the blankets.”
I laugh. “Don’t start somethin’ you have no intention of finishing, darlin’.”
Presley raises her delicate brows. “Who says I have no intention of finishing? I plan on finishin’ all night long. If you think you can keep up, that is.”
I grab the box of rubbers off the dresser and cross the room in two long strides. Climbing into bed with her, I say, “Oh, I can keep up, all right.” I press my growing erection into her thigh to punctuate my statement.
Pres moans, arching her back as she rubs against me purposefully. “God, Beck. How do you do it?”
“Do what?” I pepper kisses along her jaw.
“Make me feel so alive. So wanton.” She gasps when my hand slips between her thighs. Fuck, she’s still soaked. “I never thought I’d feel this way again.”
I’m sure she’s sensitive, so I’m careful to keep my touches feather-light. “I could ask you the same. I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.”
She frames my face with her hands, turning me toward her. “No, you’re not getting it, Beckett. I haven’t felt any kind of desire in a long, long time. I didn’t even feel the need to touch myself. I thought that part of me was dead, and I was honestly okay with that.”
I move my hand to her back so I don’t distract her. If she’s going to say something like that, I need her to explain before letting my imagination get the best of me. Pres had more than a healthy appetite when we were first together. I understand her reluctance to be intimate with that abusive fuckface she married, but to lose her desire entirely? To not be concerned about its disappearance? Something had to have happened to cause that.
“Why, Pres?” I draw figure eights on her lower back, directly over those fucking initials. Knowing Presley, she’s especially sensitive to that particular scar, and I need to prove to her that it doesn’t bother me. Not in the way she’s worried about, anyway.
“I learned to use sex as a tool, and in doing that, it became a matter of self-preservation rather than satisfaction. Sebastian was... when he’d get in that zone, I knew that if I didn’t offer up my body, he’d take his rage out on me with his fists. It seemed like the lesser of two evils at the time. During... he wasn’t exactly kind, which made my interest dwindle even more until there was nothing left.”
“Presley, did he... were you forced?” I hold my breath, waiting for her answer. In the time it takes her to respond, I’ve reminded myself five times I cannot flip my shit in front of her, no matter how horrifying her answer may be.
She gives me a sad smile. “No. As much as I hate myself for it, I went to him willingly.” Pres looks away, staring at something over my shoulder. “Except for the last time.”
I’m trying to remain calm, but it feels like my blood is literally boiling. I’m vibrating with unspent energy, which I really need to get in check before I scare the shit out of her. I climb out of bed and practically rip my dresser drawer off the track when I pull it open to grab a pair of boxers. I’d rather not have my dick hanging in the breeze while I’m trying to avoid going nuclear. I clasp my hands on top of my head and pace the small space in between the bed and dresser, taking deep breaths.
Presley sits up in bed, clutching the blanket to her chest. “Beckett? You okay?”
My eyes swing to hers. “No, I’m not fucking okay!” Damn it, too loud. I take another deep breath and try again, this time lowering my volume. “How can I be okay with something like that? The more important question is, are you okay? When did this happen? When?—”
“Right before I came back.” She clears her throat. “When I first got here... did my mom ever explain why she wanted you to stay away from the house?”
I shake my head in reply, doing the breathing exercises I learned during counseling. In for four counts, out for eight. In for four... out for eight.
She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I was in bad shape, Beckett. I thought Sebastian was actually going to kill me. He’d never taken it that far before, probably because I didn’t usually fight back. But that night... I found out he was having an affair. I don’t know why that set me off like it did, considering everything else that’s happened over the years, but I refused to back down. I felt so betrayed—which is ridiculous when I think about it—and I flew off the handle. While I was yelling at him, he got this manic look in his eyes that I’d never seen before. It’s like he was looking right through me, so on instinct, I ran, but I never even made it to the elevator. Anyway...” Presley pulls her knees up to her chest under the covers. “While he was... I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. I didn’t want him to have any more of my tears. So, when he was done, he beat the crap out of me until I blacked out. I’d never seen him lose complete control before that night. When I woke up, he was gone. I was pretty out of it—the doctor said a concussion will do that to you—but I knew that if I didn’t take the opportunity to leave at that exact moment, I’d never have the chance again. I somehow managed to get dressed and make it down to the lobby, but the effort must’ve taken too much out of me because they told me I passed out. I woke up again in the ambulance, but I was still too groggy to remember much.”
I lean against the dresser, curling my fingers around the edge. “What did the police do when you told them what happened?”
Presley gulps. “I didn’t tell them anything.”
“What?!” I scrub a hand down my face. “Why the hell not?”
Her hazel eyes narrow. “You don’t get to judge me, Beckett.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m not judging you. I’m curious why you’d let him get away with that when you had the chance to report it. Surely, the hospital documented all your injuries. He should be behind bars, Pres.”
She shakes her head. “It won’t happen. He’s too powerful. He has too much money, too many connections, and he’s too damn manipulative. Millions of people adore him, Beck. He’s their savior. Sebastian is a smooth talker, and he’s well-practiced at deception. The charges would never stick. The only thing an accusation like that would do is make me a target for the media.”
I finally feel like I have enough control over myself to be near her again. I sit next to her on the edge of the mattress and weave our fingers together. “Honey, you don’t know that. You can’t let him get away with this.”
Pres sighs. “I’ve made peace with it, Beckett, and I need you to respect that. Karma will bite him in the ass one day, hopefully, sooner rather than later. I’ll be happy if I can get this divorce to go through without any problems. My attorney said it should be pretty simple since I don’t want anything from him. Provided he doesn’t contest it, that is. I just want to be done with that part of my life so I can move on.”
I don’t like the idea of him getting away scot-free, but I decide to let it go for now. If Presley doesn’t press charges, I just might need to personally teach that motherfucker what it’s like to be pounded on by somebody bigger than you.
I cup my hand around the back of her neck and press our foreheads together. “I really wish I would’ve said something that day. Maybe none of this would’ve ever happened.”
I can feel her frowning in understandable confusion. “The day I left?”
“Well, that too. But I was referring to the time I saw you in New York.”
She rears back. “I’m sorry, but what? When did you see me in New York?”
I run my finger along the crease between her brows. “Right after your engagement was announced.” Her eyes widen. “I talked Clayton into giving me your address, and I took the first flight out.”
Presley shakes her head. “I don’t understand. We never saw each other in New York.”
“That’s not entirely accurate,” I correct. “I saw you getting out of a car with him. I had this big plan. I was going to beg you not to marry him, to come home with me, but I couldn’t do it. I was fucking miserable without you, but you seemed genuinely happy. I didn’t understand how that could be true, but I saw it with my own eyes. I knew I had to let you go. Now, I really wish I would’ve been more selfish.”
The green in her eyes brightens with unshed tears. “It was all an act, Beckett. I was trying to convince myself I could be happy with him, but I never was, not even in the beginning. I never loved Sebastian. I almost left him at the altar, but I thought the damage between you and me had already been done. I was afraid to be alone with nothing but my depressing thoughts. I was incredibly sad, and it was eating me alive, so I had talked myself into staying with him. That was before I knew who he really was. I thought I’d be a fool to walk away when he was seemingly so perfect.” She wipes her tears as they spill over onto her cheeks. “God, I’ve made too many stupid decisions out of fear.”
Fuck.
A part of me is relieved she never really loved him because that confirms what we had was the real deal. But the other part is filled with regret for all the things she and I left unsaid. All of this could’ve been avoided if we learned how to communicate better. I slip under the covers and coax Presley into lying down next to me.
“Pres, I need you to promise me something.”
She sniffles. “What?”
I brush my hand along the side of her torso. “I don’t want to make the same mistakes. If you’re struggling, or if something’s on your mind, I need you to talk to me. I mean full disclosure, no matter how hard it is, or if you think it’ll upset me. Can you do that?”
Presley searches my eyes. “Can you?”
I brush the back of my hand over her tear-stained cheek. “Yeah, honey, I can. Because the alternative... the possibility of losing you again, isn’t a road I want to go down.”
She outlines my lips with her index finger. “Me neither, Beckett.”