17. Lucky number seven – Aurora
17
LUCKY NUMBER SEVEN
AURORA
“I t was you, Ro,” Seven says as I trace a finger over the lines that spell my name as if in a dream or maybe the sweetest nightmare.
My heart is a kick drum thumping in my chest. So loud I’m not sure I’ve fully heard him until his words catch and my lips part on a shuddering inhale, lungs aching for air.
It was me.
In this small way, it was me.
Because I told Seven. I poured my truth on him and he grew into the fist of my justice.
My skin feels hot and there’s a mosh pit in my stomach and when I look up at him, I find the same violent clash of emotion that I feel mirrored in his eyes.
There’s still dirt on his cheek. The blood of my enemy splattered along the triple seven tattoo on his neck. And fuck if he isn’t the most beautiful monster I’ve ever seen.
“I promised you if you stayed he wouldn’t be able to hurt you anymore.” His voice is low, barely more than a breath, as his cheekbones flare. “I keep my promises, Ro.”
My thighs squeeze and Seven’s hot gaze travels to my lips.
Before I can second-guess it, I shove the bat from between us.
It rings against the tile when he drops it.
There’s a snarl on his lips when he moves in like a shadow, crowding me against the counter, gripping the back of my neck to tip my mouth up to his. His kiss is hard, so hard it grips all of me in its electric vise, squeezing, twisting, breaking, burning.
“Fuck,” he pants against my lips, shivering as he pulls me tight to him with a fist in the back of my shirt. When I moan, it’s an animal sound in the back of my throat that he swallows, prying my lips apart to sweep in and taste me with a merciless flick of his tongue.
My breath hitches and Seven growls in response, whirling my body to press me into the solid surface of the refrigerator. I grasp for anything to hold on to, catching the door of the fridge as he runs a hand down my side.
Oh god.
“I knew,” he says breathily between claiming kisses. “I knew from the moment I saw you.”
His fingers catch under my thigh, hitching my leg up, opening me for him to press his cock against my core, drawing another half moan, half cry from my chest.
“I knew you were more .”
He thrusts his erection against me through our clothes, jarring me and the refrigerator. We shift to one side and I gasp as it opens under my hand. Seven swallows that sound, too, heedless as I grip onto the shelves inside the fridge, searching for a handhold as he tangles his body with mine, worshiping me with his hands.
Condiments and other items drop, break, and splatter as I fight for something to hold on to as Seven moves his mouth from mine to kiss a path down my throat, onto my chest. My shirt is ripped into two so he can continue his torturous descent between my breasts and down my stomach. He slows only to press two soft kisses to the bruises on the side of my rib cage. Almost sweetly. It’s enough for a bubble of emotion to swell in my chest like a deranged, lustful sob.
“Never again,” he mutters against my skin, so softly I barely hear him, and when he looks up at me from the space just below my belly button, I know I’m completely and utterly fucked. It hits me with the sort of terror that should only be reserved for convicts on death row, because that’s what I see in his blue, blue eyes.
My own death. Wrapped in black ink, eyes studded with Hades’s blue fire, lips made for sinning, and hands like branding irons as they squeeze and caress my skin.
I’m nearly beyond noticing the mess when a jar of green smoothie smashes at our feet and Seven lifts mine from the danger of being cut on the sharp glass, throwing my thighs over his shoulders as he kneels.
“The glass,” I gasp. “You’ll get hurt.”
I feel his smirk against my lower belly and hear glass crunch under his knees as he settles in the mess and angles my hips with rough intention.
Fuck. Fuck.
I find a handhold on a fridge drawer just as he hooks his fingers into my soft sleep shorts and yanks them down with hurried movements.
My breaths come hot and hard. Every second he drags it out feels like a millennia and soon we’ll run out of time and I’ll turn to dust in his hands if he doesn’t put out the flames.
“S-Seven,” I stutter between breaths, shaking as he maneuvers my shorts and panties, pulling them from one leg entirely to hang uselessly on the other as he grins up at me from between my legs.
“That’s my number, baby,” he croons wickedly. “Let me show you why it’s lucky.”
When his gaze drops to my bare pussy, I clench my teeth. Every muscle in my body is coiled and ready, like a finger poised over a trigger, and once he pulls it…
This weapon will kill every remaining ounce of sanity I’ve been clawing to keep for so long I don’t remember what it’s like to let go.
As if he reads my mind, Seven lifts my hips high enough to feel his breath fan over me, coaxing the flames higher. “I’ve got you,” he says. “ Let go .”
I nod, and his expression shifts as the warmth of his mouth closes over my pussy. I moan, gripping the shelves of the refrigerator tighter, and his eyes soften and almost roll as he gets his first taste of me.
Seven drags his unholy tongue through my folds, flicking it against that spot just there and it’s the gunshot I knew was coming, but it hits so much harder than I thought possible. The ricochet scatters reason to the wind like a buckshot and I move against him, needing his friction.
He replaces his tongue with expert fingers, rubbing me as he watches me come undone for him through hooded eyes. “So fucking wet for me, Ro. So fucking sweet.”
He sucks me into his mouth again, pressing his fingers to my entrance, and there’s a moment when I acknowledge that the same hands that killed a man—that killed Jesse—are about to enter me and it turns me on so fucking much that I have to wonder if I’ve gone insane.
But maybe I already was to begin with.
Seven pushes into me with one finger, then with two, stretching me, and it’s all happening so fast.
It’s crazy. Chaotic. Completely out of control in a way that I am utterly powerless to stop as he fucking groans against my pussy, the vibration of the sound rolling over me like a tidal wave that leaves goosebumps in the wake of its destruction.
I’m caught in his undertow, and drowning, I think, doesn’t sound like the worst way to go.
He pushes in a third finger and before I know it, I’m there. Gasping for air. I can’t fucking breathe.
I can’t think of anything but the orgasm ripping through me as I tremble and cry out, coming so hard the edges of my vision black out and every muscle locks.
Seven continues to fuck me with his fingers and tongue through the release, and I squeeze around him, spasming against the fullness of his three digits inside of me. When he pulls away, he licks his lips before swiping the back of a hand over his mouth.
“You’re so fucking pretty when you come.”
My core tightens as he shifts, hands gripping my ass to hold me up as he rises from the floor and pulls my legs around his waist and buries his face into the crook of my neck, breathing me in.
“Tell me I can fuck you,” he says, his voice hot and husky against my neck, more of a demand than a question, but he could ask me for anything right now and I’d be powerless to say no.
“Please.” He punctuates the word with a thrust of his hips, making me feel him against my dripping core.
I moan. “Yes.”
Seven lifts me infinitesimally higher. High enough so that my ass is able to rest on the shelf inside the fridge as he unzips his jeans with frenzied motions, pulling himself out. My mouth waters when I see him. Thick and long, cut with a vein that I desperately want to trace with my tongue.
He gives himself a firm stroke before grabbing my hand to drag it between us, replacing his hand with mine, guiding my fingers to stroke him until he’s shivering beneath our joined touch.
I slip my thumb over his wide tip, gathering the perfect bead of precum there to rub onto his underside in tight little circles as he starts to thrust into my hand. He grows impossibly bigger, even harder as he throws his head back and steps forward, tipping his hips to line himself up with my pussy.
A strangled sound I don’t recognize comes from my own chest as he nudges my entrance and I take in every inch of him between us, finding ink over his base that spreads up to where his Adonis belt disappears beneath his shirt.
He’s much bigger than any man I’ve ever had, but it doesn’t scare me. It’s a challenge, and I fucking accept.
I angle my hips, pressing against him enough that his tip dips into my warmth and even that pressure is enough to unravel me all over again.
I growl as I yank him to me, taking what I want from him this time, tasting myself on his lips as he deepens the kiss and thrusts into me. The pain brings everything into startling clarity. Makes it real. So vividly real that I scream into his mouth.
Seven doesn’t give me time to adjust, I don’t think he can. His fevered kiss and labored breathing and the way his muscles are tight and shuddering where my hands press against him tell me he’s lost in me just as much as I’m lost in him and it makes me feral for more.
He uses me as an anchor with one hand on my hip and the other clutched around my shoulder, pushing me onto him as he shifts back and slams harder into me with a primal sound in the back of his throat.
The fridge rattles and shakes, more items cascading onto the floor as he fucks me, each thrust coming faster than the last, harder as he slams his hilt against me. He’s doing something I’m not used to. With each thrust is a slight flick and roll, his hilt hitting my clit in the perfect punishing rhythm to make me come.
I’ve never come from a cock alone. Didn’t think it was possible. But when my orgasm builds, I chase it, thinking about how good he feels. Not just his cock, but him. The connection between us is bright. Completely electric in its intensity.
This man killed for me. He walked right into my nightmare and murdered my demon.
He barely knows me, but he heard my story and he decided that my enemy shouldn’t get to keep breathing and he did something about it. He kept his promise. And that deranged part of me that stayed when I needed to throw out my crowded thoughts wants to show him how grateful I am.
The fridge smashes against the wall and the counters, clanking like it might come apart as he fucks me into it.
“You’re so fucking tight.”
When he pulls back to look into my eyes, I show him how close I am and his face goes beautifully, tragically taut. His full lips part and his brows draw together, but he doesn’t stop. “That’s it, Ro. I need you to come on my cock. Please. I need to feel it. I need to?—”
He cuts himself off with another groan that comes out through his clenched teeth.
Oh my god, he’s going to come.
My face flushes hot and I explode on his cock.
“ Fuck.”
Seven’s lips trap mine in a brutal kiss as he fucks me through my orgasm, denying himself as long as he can. The sensation races through my body like a thousand hands squeezing and twisting and pulling in a symphony that is equal parts pleasure and pain until I’m crying at its intensity.
Seven gasps out a strangled sound against my mouth and pulls out, fisting his cock as if strangling it when his hot cum spurts onto my belly. This time when our lips part, he drops his forehead to mine and our quick breaths mingle in the air as he runs a thumb along my jaw. I taste the salty tang of his seed as the warm digit runs down the middle of my lips and I suck it inside, wanting to get a better taste.
He sighs, resting his forearms on either side of my head against the shelves like he isn’t ready to move away just yet. When he speaks, his voice is a sultry whisper against my neck and I can feel his smile in the words. “I’m so fucking glad you hit me with your car, Aurora Bellerose.”