Chapter 31
Lizzy
He pulls back with a hungry look in his eyes. “Do you want to go to my bedroom?”
“Here’s good.” I’m certain my legs couldn’t carry me across his house right now. I can barely feel my toes after the earth-shattering orgasm he just gave me.
He nods, then crawls up my body, not giving me an inch of space. Not that I want it. I’ve been fantasizing about this man for far too long. Well… not as long as he has. The thought brings a smile to my lips. He’s really wanted me for six years.
“Why’re you smiling right now?” Bash grunts with a frown.
“How long have you wanted this?”
“You know how long I’ve wanted you.”
“I just can’t believe it. You’re amazing.” I throw my arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. He hungrily returns it, digging his hand into my hair.
When he breaks the kiss, he pulls a pillow from behind him and lifts my hips, positioning the pillow under them. I shoot him a questioning look, to which he grins.
“It may have been a while since I’ve done this, but I still know how to please a woman,” he says around his smirk. The glow in his eyes says it all. He hungers for me.
“How long?” I have to ask because there’s no way it’s been six years. Granted, it’s been that for me. And partially because he’s cock-blocked me for years. But he’s a man.
He looks at me with a soft smile and brushes a piece of my bangs out of my eyes.
“Angel, I haven’t touched a woman since I first laid eyes on you.
How could I substitute perfection with ordinary?
No one compares to you, Lizzy. I can’t stomach the thought of touching another woman when you’re all I can think about. ”
Tears well, brimming in my eyes. I beg myself not to shed any, because the only thing worse than crying during sex is crying before sex. He won’t want to fuck me if I’m crying.
His eyes widen, and before he can freak out, I shush him. “I’m okay. These are happy tears. I just never thought I’d have this kind of love.”
“You’ve had my love longer than you could imagine.
At first, it was intrigue that quickly turned to obsession.
But the longer I watched you, as you unknowingly bared your soul to me, I began loving you.
With every act of kindness, every ounce of intelligence, and every unique quirk, you drew me in until I couldn’t help but fall for you.
I know you better than anyone else. My love for you is as true as the sky is blue. ”
His loving words and soft expression unleash my tears. I only let a few fall, and before I can wipe them, Bash is there, kissing them away. Warmth spreads through my chest at the gesture.
When he shifts down slightly to look me in the eyes, his boxers brush over my core. My very naked core. Which brings me back to the present.
“Enough with the emotions. What I really crave is your dick.” I laugh as I tease the band of his silky boxers. His abs tighten at my touch, and a hiss leaves his lips.
“We don’t have to–”
“You’re not getting out of this, Sebastian,” I cut him off. Trying my hardest to look sexy and flirtatious despite my red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks, I dip my hand into his boxer briefs. “So, are you going to take your pants off or do I have to do it?”
Heat instantly fills his gaze as does indecision. After a moment, he mutters, “No time to waste,” then flings off his underwear.
I look down, needing to see his dick. And what a dick it is.
Laying between his legs, pointed towards the sky, is the perfect dick.
Just slightly bigger than my purple friend.
Silently, I thank my past self for never using it outside my bedroom.
Although, the thought of giving Bash a show has my heart accelerating and my core tingling.
Reaching down, I wrap my hand around his velvety member. He sucks in a harsh breath, his eyes shooting closed. Only for them to fly open when I stroke him. He watches with a mesmerized expression, but when he twitches in my palm, he pulls away from me.
“Give me… a moment,” he begs, closing his eyes and doing what seems to be a meditation exercise.
Pride fills me at his lack of control. At having him so close to the edge with just a few touches. I feel sexier in this moment with this god of a man at my mercy than I’ve ever felt before.
Finally, he opens his eyes. Snaking his hands between us, he spreads my thighs, opening me for him. He strokes his fingers through my core, spreading my wetness. “So fucking wet for me.”
My mind empties at his crude, rough words. Words that have me on edge. He has just as much control over me as I do over him. Reaching down, I direct him to my entrance. He watches intently, and finally, finally, he starts to push in.
Each inch is agonizingly perfect. His pace is slow. I’m not sure if he’s trying to savor the moment, torture me, or maintain control. Either way, it’s too slow for me. I wrap a leg around his waist and use my strength to pull him the rest of the way in.
“My impatient angel,” he murmurs as he starts rocking his hips.
“My torturous boyfriend,” I answer with a growl of my own.
He shivers at the title, then pumps his hips. The sounds of our skin connecting and our moans mingling has me close to combusting. Stars dance in my vision, but I fight the feeling, needing to prolong our ecstasy.
He lifts my legs into his arms, changing the angle, hitting a magical spot inside of me. Curses fly from my lips of their own accord. And when he lifts one leg at a time up against his chest and over his shoulders, my curses turn to howls.
“Fuck, look how flexible you are,” he says with a growl as the cords of his neck bulge.
I reach an arm up and trace them. He yanks my hand away and brings it to his mouth, sucking on my fingers. I clench around his member as he sullies my digits. I never realized something like this could be so sensual.
Then he pulls my fingers from his mouth. As the light hits them, they glisten with his saliva. He moves our hands lower, placing them over my little swollen nub. But he doesn’t pull his hand away, just rests it on top of mine.
“Show me how you like it,” he demands.
The first little circle shoots up my spine and, by the third, I’m on the edge. I start to slow, trying to make myself last longer, but he growls in my ear, “Keep going.”
“But I’m so close,” I whimper.
Bash meets my helpless gaze with a needy one of his own. “We can go again. But right now, I need you to come, because I’m about to combust.”
He starts moving my hand over my clit how I had been, controlling the movements.
I let him lead, and my legs start shaking.
He lets out a low groan, as I tip over the edge.
Lights dance over my vision as I’m transported to another dimension.
I can barely hear my name on his lips, a chant praising me, as ropes of cum fill me.
When I come back down, he’s hovering over me, his muscles trembling from his release. He doesn’t pull out though; he just hovers over me, giving me a full display of his body.
For the first time, I really study him. Or, well, I study the tattoo on his left pectoral. I noticed it earlier, but between the attack and confessions, I didn’t really look at it.
And when I decipher what it is, his lone tattoo, my head spins.
Looking up, I burn under his expectant gaze.
Glancing back at the tattoo, the only one he has, everything locks into place.
Everything he’s been telling me about his love and obsession for me.
Because he inked me into his skin. Permanent and forever, like us.
Lightly, I trace my fingers over the five-lined skink on his chest. The symbolism isn’t lost on me.
He first saw me saving one. His first memory of me, of me taking Fern home and caring for him is inked over his heart forever.
And suddenly, his pattern change makes sense, because someone did break into my home and switch out my sick lizard with a replica.
Because Bash would do that for me. I bet Fern passed away while I was at work and my sweet Bash wanted to save me from that pain.
“Oh, Bash,” I murmur in a heavy voice.
His large hand covers mine, and he presses them against his chest on the tattoo right over his heart. “Of course I marked you on my chest. You’re my Lizzy, my lizard queen. That day changed my life. You changed my life and gave me a purpose. You’re my purpose, angel.”
It’s hard to form words over the lump in my throat, because this is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. He didn’t know if he’d ever get to be with me if, if he’d ever even get to introduce himself, but he still marked me permanently over his heart.
“I love you,” I whisper as I cup his cheek. I lean up and kiss him. It’s sweet and loving. Soft and gentle. And soon, it turns into lovemaking.
And when we finish, he cleans us and carries me to bed. I succumb to sleep before my head even hits my pillow.