Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
FALLON
Ruin Me
The way we come together isn’t pretty. It’s a frenzied collision of desperation and need.
Air explodes out of her lungs when I roughly lift her in my arms and kick the bedroom door closed.
Our lips fuse together, my tongue fucking her mouth, the taste of her driving me wild, the scent of her intoxicating.
I push her up against the back of the door, and her pale-green eyes go black with lust, her perfect lips bee-stung and kiss-swollen. So goddamn breathtaking.
I’ve spent a lifetime obsessed with her, wanting her, loving her, but nothing could have prepared me for what she said. “I’m not going to stand here and beg the man I’m falling in love with to spend the night with me.”
She’s falling in love with me.
A broken angel and a man with a black soul.
We shouldn’t make sense, but somehow, we do.
I know I don’t deserve her. There shouldn’t be a happily ever after for a man like me.
But I don’t fucking care. Elizabeth is mine .
I meant what I said. I’ll destroy anyone who tries to take her from me. Including Jay.
Palming her face, I gently brush up her cheek with the pad of my thumb, a soft touch compared to the violence of desire pulsing through my blood. Her head tilts, just a fraction, accepting that small piece of tenderness.
“Fallon,” she quietly whimpers, the sound an exquisite melody.
My lips take hers once again in a kiss that is both punishing and tender. I’m claiming her, branding her as mine.
“Yes, Kitten,” I hush against her mouth.
Her hitched breath comes out as shallow pants as she fists the front of my shirt.
“Ruin me.”
With pleasure.
She gasps in delight when I rend her tank top down the middle, the fabric giving way like tissue paper under my hand and exposing her gorgeous breasts to my heated gaze. Seeing her like this, being able to touch her like this, kiss her like this?—
“You are so beautiful.”
My fingertips roam her creamy, silken flesh, and her body responds with sensuous beauty.
A moan, a sigh, the way she trembles under my hand, and how her skin turns to gooseflesh everywhere I touch.
I glide my other hand down the curvature of her torso…
lower, lower…tracing the contour of her hip, her thigh.
“How wet are you for me?” I graze a finger under the waistband of her jean shorts, brushing lazy strokes back and forth across her navel.
“Why don’t you find out?”
This is a side of her I’m meeting for the first time, and I fucking love it. My dirty girl.
Elizabeth writhes against me when I take my time pulling the zipper of her shorts down. She tortures me with temptation when I discover she’s not wearing any panties again. This woman is going to be the death of me.
I bite back a groan when I slide a finger up her slit. “I’m going to fuck you until your voice is hoarse from screaming my name,” I tell her, pushing two fingers inside her wet warmth.
“ God, yes ,” she moans.
While my fingers hurl her toward a quick orgasm, I kiss her sweet lips and get drunk off the little mewls she makes. Her nails dig into my shoulders as she rides my hand, taking command of her own pleasure.
“ Oh, god …Fallon.”
Her spine bows, her muscles lock, and I cover her mouth when she climaxes spectacularly, moaning my goddamn name. Don’t need the kids to wake up and hear me do filthy things to their mother.
Elizabeth crumbles in a replete mess of sated woman in my arms. “You are really good at that.”
My ego does a fist pump. “Just wait until I get my mouth on you.”
Her hum is dirty. “Other way around.”
My cock jerks at the image. Elizabeth on her knees, her perfect lips around my cock. Soon. I have so many fantasies I want to fulfill with her. So many things I want to do to her.
Scooping her in my arms, I carry her into the bathroom.
“Shower?”
“Something like that,” I reply, and the giggle-snort she makes is the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard. “Hold on to me.”
I slither her body down the length of mine and gently lower her to stand. She sways slightly on wobbly legs.
“I think you broke me.”
“Not even close, Kitten.”
Her hands slide up my chest, her lips pressing a tender kiss to my jugular notch. “You have too many clothes on.”
She taps my arms to raise them, and I obediently lift them above my head for her to remove my shirt. She bunches up the hem and slowly pushes it up my chest, her eyes following the movement.
“Don’t move,” she says when I reach for her, and I let my arms fall listlessly to my sides.
Dropping the garment to the tile floor, she splays her hands across my pectorals, her fingers lightly exploring.
A tease of a finger tracing the line of my collarbone, a scrape of a nail over my nipple, a press of her lips over my pounding heart, a glide of her palm across my abdominals.
She circles to my back, and my muscles quiver under the brushstrokes of her lips as she kisses each scar that mars my skin.
Elizabeth and I are the same in that respect. We both wear Peter’s mark.
“You’re beautiful,” she says, each kiss healing the wounds left by my half brother.
Needing to touch her more than I need air, I turn around and drop to my knees. “Not as beautiful as you,” I reply, dragging the denim of her shorts down her legs.
Elizabeth looks down at me, her hair a waterfall of sunshine as it falls over her shoulders. Standing before me, every part of her gorgeous body bare—there are no words that can express how stunning she is.
Wanting to give her the same attention, I make love to the butterfly tattoos that meander up her side, kissing each one before doing the same to the faint pink line of her C-section scar. Her fingers thread through my hair when I brush my nose over her soft pubis, breathing in her scent.
A trickle of something wet splashes on my arm. Then another. Teardrops. Tilting my head, I gaze up at her just as another tear falls silently down her cheek, and Elizabeth smiles.
“Good tears,” she says, cupping my face and gently urging me to my feet.
She undoes the button of my jeans, pushing them over my hips. They fall the rest of the way, and I step out of them, kicking them to the side.
Elizabeth’s expression flares with surprise, her gaze locked directly on my cock. “Is that…?” Her eyes fly up to my face. “You have a piercing?”
I chuckle at her excited reaction. “Yeah.”
“Can I touch it?”
My chuckle turns into full-blown laughter. “Baby, you can touch me anytime you want. You don’t need my permission.”
She huffs with embarrassment, even though her eyes light with discovery. “I’ve never seen one before. Did it hurt when…you know?”
“Like hell.” But the pain of getting it was worth it because she’s about to find out how good it’s going to feel when I pound her G-spot with it.
I almost come like a pubescent teenager when she takes me in her hand and gently strokes the silver barbell.
“It’s cold.”
“It’s also very sensitive.”
Her grin is wicked with sinful intent. “Yeah?”
“First time I come isn’t going to be in your hand.” I kiss the pout on her lips and open the glass door to the shower, turning the handle all the way to hot. Steam begins to billow within seconds, and I carry her inside the large shower stall.
Warm water beats down over us from a large waterfall showerhead, plastering her long hair to her body.
The image she creates—nude, wet, and utterly captivating—makes me almost feral.
A blush of arousal tints her cheeks when she looks at me.
It’s the same silent thrum that ignites every time I look at her.
I run my hands up her thighs, to her breasts, over the peaks of her rosy nipples, wanting to memorize every inch of her. Every curve, every freckle.
“I love how you touch me.”
“How do I touch you?” I ask, taking a nipple into my mouth and sucking gently.
Her chest vibrates with her soft moan. “Like I’m precious.”
I rise to my full height and take the small bottle of liquid soap from the shelf, lathering some between my hands, and playfully drop a dollop of sudsy foam on her button nose. “Because to me, you are.”
Even though I told her that I couldn’t be gentle, I temper the rage of my desire and enjoy being with her like this, existing in a sweet moment. Just her and me and the tender quiet of us.
Elizabeth gathers some of the foam from my hands and lathers it down my arms, following the bold lines of the vines branded on my skin.
“When did you get this done?”
“Had it done piecemeal whenever I came back stateside. Harper’s friend did it,” I reply, dropping down to my haunches. I lift her right foot and set it on my thigh.
“Bastard?”
“You know him?” I ask, washing her feet.
“When they say people know one another through six degrees of separation, it’s not a lie. Bastard Ink was who did my butterflies. They do pro bono work for the nonprofit that provides tattoos for trauma survivors. Harper said that he did her survivor tattoo.”
Slowly rising, I glide my hands up the contours of her hourglass figure. “Everything is connected in some way.”
“Like us,” she says, reaching for the shampoo. “Bend down for me a little. You’re too tall.”
Hooking her around the waist, I lift her off her feet. “I like this much better.”
She smiles as she lathers my hair. “I may see the merits of your way.”
Her hands massage my scalp, and I melt into a puddle of relaxation. This is a new experience for me. The simplicity of intimacy. Of having someone take care of you.
Elizabeth plays with my hair, alternating between flattening the strands with her palm and spiking them to create a mohawk. “Let’s get you rinsed.”
Still holding her, I stand under the spray as she washes the suds from my hair. Her ministrations slow, and something shifts in her eyes.
“Fallon?” she says, her voice going husky.
I have to adjust my grip when her legs wrap around my waist, placing my achingly hard cock I’ve been trying to ignore right at her pussy. Eyes on me, she licks her lips and rotates her hips, and the tip of my shaft notches at her entrance.
“ Elizabeth ,” I warn. There’s only so much willpower I can muster with her naked in my arms.
She braces her hands on either side of my face, her fingertips digging into the back of my neck. “Make me yours.”
Not able to withstand her command, the chains of my desire break.
She lets out a sexy grunt when I push her back against the beige tile wall.
With my weight holding her in place, I let my hand wander her body, caressing her curves and tracing patterns on her soft skin.
She shudders, her body becoming increasingly responsive to every movement of my fingers.
My thumb brushes against her nipple, making it flush a deeper shade of pink and harden under the attention.
“More,” she entreats, and a contented hum leaves her lips as I languidly stroke my tongue over her wet skin.
I’m a man on a mission, wanting to steep her in pleasure so she feels nothing but me and my touch. My mouth. My body.
My hand roams the concave of her hip, which gives way to the valley of her waist before it comes to rest on the swell of her stomach.
“Mine.”
My need for her is too great, and I can’t wait any longer.
“ Yours ,” she moans as I sink my cock into her paradise.
Fuck, she’s tight.
So good.
Every sensation, every sound, comes alive.
It’s too much and not enough. It’s every fantasy I’ve had of her come to life, but the reality of finally having her is overwhelming.
Life-altering. My heart splits wide open, the love I had buried inside pouring out.
It’s painful and wonderful and… everything .
I love you. I love you.
Her chin tilts downward, eyes transfixed on where our bodies are connected.
“The piercing…feels really good.” Her breath catches as she intently watches the slow glide of my cock as I ease out of her and thrust back in. “More intense.”
“For me, too.” And not because of the metal barbell, but because of her.
Her desperate whimper electrifies me as I thrust into her with increasing urgency.
“Kitten, I’m not going to last much longer.” Thrust. “It’s been a very long fucking time since…” Thrust. “And you feel too damn good.”
“Don’t hold back,” she gasps.
My middle finger journeys down her taut abdomen to the apex of her pleasure.
I press firmly against that sensitive cluster of nerves, and a tidal wave of ecstasy crashes over us, her walls convulsing with intensity, gripping me with a fierce, relentless squeeze.
I can feel my control rapidly slipping, and I need her there with me.
My fingers spin in a dizzying crescendo, faster and faster, each swirl unleashing a cascade of shudders that ripple through her entire body.
Every thrust, every firm stroke of my thumb on her clit, detonates an unstoppable chain reaction that builds and builds until we’re on the brink of oblivion.
What began as gentle becomes relentless, each stroke of my cock, each press of my thumb on her clit, igniting a fire within us that feeds off itself until neither one of us can hold back any longer.
Tenderness turns to punishing as we chase our orgasms. Her moans become louder and more desperate, and she cries out my name as frenzied currents carry us higher and deeper into each other until we catapult off that cliff together…
…and fall.
I love you. I love you.
Our chests heave in gulps of air, our mouths finding each other, our kiss slow and sensual as we ride the aftershocks. The energy that sparks between us is palpable, always there and ever-present, even in the quiet afterglow when our bodies are spent.
“Let me make a memory,” she says, mapping my face, exploring my lips, my eyebrows, the creases at the corners of my eyes, like she’s discovering them for the first time.
I nuzzle her neck. “Good?”
“ So damn good.”
“Happy?”
She tugs my earlobe with her teeth. Kisses my shoulder. My neck. My lips. “ So damn happy.” She lowers to her knees, and the sight of her kneeling in front of me short-circuits my brain.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Wrapping one hand around the base of my cock, her lips close around me, and she deep throats my dick until she gags.
My eyes roll in ecstasy. “Jesus, Kitten. Your mouth. So fucking good.”
Hollowing her cheeks, she works my length with her tongue, and it doesn’t take long for her hot, wet mouth to have me spilling down her throat.
Those pale-green eyes lift, and I’m a goner. “Now, take me to bed.”