Chapter 47
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
ELSIE
Beckett’s hands grip my ass like he’s staking a claim—rough, hungry, and absolutely locked in. His mouth takes mine, hard and deep. Forget control. Forget composure. All I know is I want him, right here, right now, and nothing in the world is going to stand in my way.
His fingers trace up my back, big palms pressing me closer, until there’s not a fraction of space left between us. I’m barely breathing as my insides melt into a messy, desperate puddle of goo. My legs tangle with his on the couch, and I can’t get enough.
His lips leave mine for a second, and I just about launch myself off the couch from the loss of contact, but then he’s grabbing my face, hands warm and strong, thumbs stroking across my cheeks like I’m breakable or precious or both. I shudder, my heart slamming against my ribs.
“Jesus, Elsie,” Beckett mutters, voice all wrecked and low, “You drive me fucking crazy.”
I can’t even start to process that, because his mouth is on mine again, softer now but still wild underneath, like he’s barely containing himself.
His tongue teases my bottom lip, and holy hell, I lose my mind.
My hands lock around his shoulders, digging into hard muscle.
He’s built like a damn superhero, broad and unyielding, but the way he cups my jaw is gentle.
Like I’m the most important thing in the universe.
I arch into him, craving more contact, more heat, more everything. My skin is on fire. It’s like he flipped a switch, and every nerve ending in my body is scrambling to get to the surface.
Beckett’s breath brushes my ear, scorching hot and ragged as his hands slide down to the curve of my waist, anchoring me against him as he kisses me senseless.
But then his lips trail down, dragging a line of open-mouthed kisses along my jaw, and when his stubble rasps against my skin, I nearly combust. Holy hell, the friction is everything.
Every soft scrape is a jolt of pure electricity, causing my lady parts to wake up and tingle.
I tip my head back, shameless about giving him access to my neck, and he doesn’t waste a second.
He finds the sweet spot just below my ear, licks it, then bites down gently.
“Beckett!” His name comes out as a gasp, a plea, a full-bodied surrender.
His grip tightens, like he’s the only thing keeping me upright. Maybe he is. I’ve never felt this greedy, this needy, in my entire life. Not once.
He kisses a path down the side of my throat, dragging his teeth just hard enough to make me shiver.
My hands are useless now, just tangled in the cotton of his shirt, desperate for more skin.
I want to feel him, not just through my clothes, but everywhere.
I want the sensation of his heat pressed to mine with no barriers between us.
His scent floods my senses—cedar, spice, and something uniquely Beckett, sharp and masculine. All my focus is on Beckett and the way his tongue flicks out to tease the hollow of my neck.
Any hope of keeping things slow and casual has been thrown off the balcony. “Please,” I whisper, arching into his kiss, “I want you.”
Beckett pauses, lips warm against my skin. His breath stutters, and for a second, it feels like the world stops spinning.
“You sure?” He drags his mouth back up to my ear, voice thick and barely controlled.
I don’t hesitate. I’m not that girl tonight. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
I reach for his collar and haul him up to meet my eyes, pinning him with every ounce of courage I have left. “Seriously. No games. I want you.” My voice doesn’t even sound like me.
His eyes darken, pupils blown wide, and he lets out this rough, hungry sound that goes straight to my core. “If we do this,” he grits, “I’m keeping you forever.”
I swear my ovaries just exploded.
“Good,” I whisper, practically vibrating. “Forever sounds great—”
I don’t even get the whole sentence out before he’s on me again, kissing me so deeply I see stars.
I can’t think. Hell, I can barely breathe as Beckett shoves up to his feet and lifts me right off the couch, hauling me against him like I weigh nothing.
My legs wrap around his waist as he grips my hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a bolt of pure want right through me.
“You belong to me now,” he growls, voice thick and ragged as he pins me tighter, and holy hell, I light up from the inside out.
He kisses me like he’s starving, and I know I’m completely lost.
He carries me straight to the bedroom like it’s nothing, his hands digging into my ass, his mouth devouring mine every step of the way.
There’s nothing gentle about the way he touches me now, and honestly?
I love it. I want it rough. I want to feel him everywhere, all at once, until I can’t remember my own name.
We hit the closed door, and Beckett shoves it open with his shoulder, never breaking the kiss, never letting me take even a single breath that isn’t filled by him.
My back slams against the wall, and he pins me there, his body hot as a furnace, his cock pressing right up against me, thick and hot through our clothes.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice is all gravel and sex and pure, desperate need.
I can’t even form words. My hands are in his hair, yanking him closer, and I’m grinding my hips against him because I need him so bad.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Elsie. I’ve wanted you since the second I saw you.”
My brain completely short-circuits, and my body buzzes as a million volts of energy surge through me. The only thing that matters is the solid, unyielding man caging me in.
I manage to string together a few words, though it takes most of my brainpower. “Clothes off. Now.” Wow. So eloquent, Elsie.
He chuckles, the sound hot and wicked. “Bossy. I like it.”
I fumble for the hem of his shirt, dragging it up, desperate for more skin. He helps, muscles flexing in his arms as he yanks it over his head and tosses it somewhere behind him. For a split second, I just stare.
Holy mother of God. This man is a walking orgasm.
His chest is broad, covered in a light dusting of dark hair, with a tattoo sprawled across his bicep and part of his chest. Holy hell, I want to lick it.
My mouth actually waters. Beckett is the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my entire life, and he’s here, in my bedroom, looking at me like I’m his last meal.
“Your turn.” He grins, all wolfish and wild.
I don’t even pretend to hesitate. My sweatshirt is gone in half a second, hair flying everywhere, and I nearly get stuck in the sleeve, but it’s worth it for the way his eyes go molten. He stares at my boobs like he’s been starving for years and just discovered there’s an all-you-can-eat buffet.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he rasps, voice so guttural it barely sounds human.
I can’t stop my own hands from shaking as I peel off my leggings, leaving me in plain black panties and a sports bra that suddenly feels like a medieval torture device.
I want him naked. I want his mouth on my skin and his hands everywhere, and holy hell, I want him inside me so bad I’m actually shaking.
Beckett’s gaze is pure hunger, so intense my knees threaten to buckle. “You want my hands on you, sweetheart?”
“God, yes.” I barely recognize my own voice. “Please.”
He stalks closer, those big hands landing on my hips, and in one smooth motion, he peels my sports bra up and over my head. The elastic snaps free, launching my boobs right into his palms, and he groans.
“Fuck. I need you.” He palms me, rough and greedy, rubbing his thumbs over my aching nipples until I’m moaning and arching into his touch. I swear, I’ve never felt so completely out of my mind with need.
His mouth crashes down on the swell of my breast, sucking hard enough to make my eyes roll back in my head. Holy hell, I’m seeing stars.
Beckett is relentless, licking and biting and sucking my nipples until I’m a boneless heap pinned to the wall, moaning like I’ve never even heard of dignity. My hands fist in his hair, and I drag him in closer, needing more, needing everything right now.
He groans my name, voice so filthy my knees practically give out. “God, you taste good. So soft, so fucking perfect. I could spend the rest of my life right here.”
Okay, ovaries, calm down. But seriously, if he keeps touching me like this, I’m going to combust. I arch harder, shoving my tits into his face because, apparently, I have zero shame left. He laughs, low and wicked, then flicks his tongue over my nipple and bites down just enough to make me tremble.
I whimper, so needy it’s embarrassing. “Please, don’t stop, Beckett.
” His mouth covers my nipple, and he sucks hard, and holy freaking hell, I almost come on the spot.
The pleasure is sharp and bright. My back bows off the wall, and my legs actually shake as he lavishes my breasts with his mouth and hands, not stopping, not even slowing down.
He backs me into the bed, one hand finding the curve of my ass, squeezing hard enough to bruise.
“Tell me you want this,” he growls, voice nothing but gravel and need.
I don’t even hesitate. “I want you. All of you. Right now.”
He lays me back on the covers, coming down over me, caging me in with his size and strength.
I drag him closer, lips meeting his. The roughness of his stubble scrapes a line down my neck as he devours the column of my throat, then dips lower, hands already mapping out every inch of me like he’s memorizing the route.
I should be mortified. Completely naked, curves and all, sprawled out like a centerfold while he’s still partially dressed.
The thought barely finishes before Beckett leans down and drags his mouth up the side of my thigh, catching my hip in his big hands and squeezing. “You’re perfect, Elsie. Every fucking inch.”