Chapter 27 Cry Me A River #2
His hand stays right where it is, barely resting on my lower back.
He speaks into my ear. “Hey.” His forehead rests against the side of mine. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I know,” I whisper, but my voice cracks. “It’s not that. It’s just… they’re still there.”
His hand moves again, carefully this time, not down—just across. Comforting. A steady weight.
“I’ve seen them,” he says, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “That night. When the pictures were everywhere.”
I tense. His hand reaches around, tilting my chin to look back at him.
“And all I could think was how fucking strong you must be to have lived through it.”
Tears burn behind my eyes.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing my cheek, then the corner of my mouth. “Every scar, every line. Not because they define you—because you survived them. You’re still standing.”
I blink fast, swallowing a lump that comes from nowhere.
“I don’t want you to hide from me,” admiration thick in his voice. “Not your scars. Not your fire. I want all of you, Isobel.”
My breath hitches and I nod.
And when he kisses me again, it isn’t to devour—it’s to worship.
Tex’s hands skim over the open back of my corset, now loosened and slipping down my body. I let it fall. The cool air kisses my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of him—his body, his gaze.
I whirl around to face him, pushing his jacket off and unbuttoning his shirt.
His body is all muscle and defined lines, scars mapping their way across tanned skin. My eyes drag over every inch—his broad shoulders, the sculpted ridges of his chest, the way his stomach tightens under my gaze, the veins that climb up his arms.
I press my hand to his abdomen, fingers splayed and feel the heat of him. He stills beneath my touch, watching me with something fierce in his eyes.
“You’re beautiful,” I say before I can stop myself. Not in the fragile, pretty way—but in the carved-from-survival, devastating way. A body built to endure.
He clears his throat. “I’ve never been called that before.”
“You are.” I lean in to press a kiss to the scar on his side. “All of you.”
Tex pushes the rest of my dress down, letting it pool around my ankles.
He pushes me back onto the bed and stands over me.
His eyes trace over my breasts, my nipples pebbled.
The black lace thong is the only thing left.
He undoes his pants, and they drop to the floor, leaving him standing there in just plain black briefs. His cock is outlined by the fabric.
I lie back, chest rising and falling, and he follows me down, pressing a line of kisses from my collarbone to the center of my chest. Each one unravels a knot inside me.
His hands frame my ribs, reverent, as though I’m something divine. I arch into him, silently asking for more.
He groans low in his throat. “You’re going to drive me insane.”
“Good,” I all but purr, my voice hoarse with need.
His mouth captures mine again, this time deeper, more demanding, while his hand slides down over my bare stomach, past the waistband of my thong. He hesitates—just long enough to glance up and meet my eyes.
I bite my lip, pleading with my eyes.
He slips his fingers beneath the fabric. I’m dripping for him.
“Fuck,” he growls.
“You do this to me,” I admit, heat rising.
His lips smash mine again as his fingers stroke through me, slow and teasing. My thighs tremble around his hand. I run my hand up into his hair, burying my face in his neck as my hips move of their own accord.
“That’s it,” he says, breath hot against my skin. “Use me. Let me take care of you.”
My body obeys before my brain can catch up, heat building, cresting like a wave about to break. His fingers move in perfect rhythm, the pad of his thumb circling just right. I moan as pleasure hits me all at once.
I shatter with his name on my lips.
He kisses me through it, gentle now, hand stilling as I throb beneath him. My whole body pulses with aftershocks, my breath ragged.
When I open my eyes, his are already on me.
Tex strokes his knuckles along my cheek. “I’ve never wanted someone the way I want you.”
“Me either,” I breathe.
Tex gives me a devilish smirk as he drags his tongue down to my breast, circling around my nipple then sucking it into his mouth. I moan and he kisses down my stomach. I lift my hips as he pulls off my panties.
“I’ve thought about this.” He kisses along my hip. “About you.” His eyes molten. “About tasting you.”
Then his mouth is on me.
Warm, slow pressure makes my entire body jolt.
“Tex… sensitive.”
“Don’t worry, baby, I got you.” He smiles. His tongue moves with purpose, teasing and relentless, and my hips buck before I can stop them. He grips my thighs tighter, holding me still as he devours me like he has all the time in the world—like this was what he’d been starving for.
My fingers thread into his hair as pleasure coils low and tight, overwhelming in its intensity. He groans when I pull him closer, the vibration sending another wave crashing through me.
“You’re so fucking sweet,” he mutters against me. “So good…”
One hand moves away from my thigh and his fingers plunge into me as he continues feasting on me. I moan loudly, my hips grinding against his face and fingers, chasing the release that is just there.
He growls against me, sucking my clit hard into his mouth, pressing his tongue against it, flicking it furiously.
I come undone, everything melting away. I press against him as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of me, prolonging my release. My body tingles, my toes curl. His name on my lips over and over like a chant.
He moves up my body and grinds his hard cock against me, straining against his pants, moaning into my mouth as we kiss.
“I want to make you feel good.”
He looks into my eyes. “You’re in control, babygirl.”
I kiss him, pushing myself up, and he backs onto his knees without breaking our kiss. I shift and slowly push him to lay on his back.
“My turn indeed.” I climb on top of him.
I watch his breath catch as I kiss down his chest, taking my time. I grind myself against his cock, just a thin layer of spandex separating us. My pussy clenches with the thought of him sliding inside me, but I’m not sure I’m ready to go there yet.
“Isobel, you don’t —”
“I want to.” I place my hand on his chest and move myself further down.
I need this, not for validation or approval. But because I want to take back every part of myself that has ever been claimed without consent. I want to feel powerful in my own skin again. I want to be the one to unravel him.
My hands slip beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs. I watch his abs flex as I tug them down and exposed him fully. My cheeks flush with heat, but I don’t look away.
His body is truly a work of art. All hard lines and tensed muscle, veins, strength wrapped in control, but not with me. With me, he gives me the reins.
I wrap my fingers around his thick cock, slowly stroking once, remembering how he did it to himself when he watched me that night, and the groan he lets out goes straight through me.
“Jesus,” he breathes, head falling back. “You’re going to fucking ruin me.”
I don’t answer. I just lean in and brush my lips over the tip — soft, testing. He jumps in my hand, a low curse tumbling from his lips. His skin is soft and smooth, like velvet. I run my tongue over it, and he moans. I’m so turned on by his moans. I need them on repeat.
Then I slide him into my mouth, inch by inch.
His hand finds my hair, not to force or hold, just grounding himself. The control in his body begins to splinter apart, and I can feel it in the way his hips buck slightly, the way his breathing comes in jagged pulls.
“Fuck, Isobel—” My name comes out like a prayer and a warning all in one.
I hollow out my cheeks, trying to remember everything I’ve ever heard, read, or imagined. But more than that — I just listen. To his body. To the way he mutters my name, the way his thighs tense beneath my palms, the way he gasps when I swirl my tongue just right.
I have power. I have him unraveling.
I keep moving my head up and down, pressing my tongue against him. Letting him hit the back of my throat, and he curses, and my eyes look up to him. His gaze locks with mine, heavy with desire. He continues guiding me, his hand in my hair.
I pick up speed, my hand playing gently with his balls. He groans, his fingers tightening against my scalp.
He’s shaking by the time he swears again, and then he’s spilling into my mouth, hot and salty and overwhelming. I take all of it, because I want to.
I pull back slowly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. My lips tingle, and my throat burns a little, but I feel… proud.
And when I look up, Tex is staring at me like he’s never seen me before.
His chest rise and falls like he’d just fought a war, and the awe in his expression makes my cheeks heat again for a whole different reason.
“You’re incredible.” His voice is rough but filled with admiration.
He reaches for me, hand sliding behind my neck to pull me close again, and I go willingly — breathless, trembling.
He kisses me and his hand slides between my legs once more.
“You’re dripping.” He bites my lower lip gently. “You love sucking my cock don’t you?”
I nod, and as I lie next to him, he leans over me.
“Can’t leave you dripping like this.” He smiles, sucking my nipple into his hot mouth.
His fingers work expert circles on my clit again and I’m so close already.
“Rub yourself,” he commands into my ear.
My hand snakes down my body, and he pushes two fingers into me.
It’s perfect, my body squeezes around him as he picks up speed and I rub my clit in tandem.
With my other hand, I pull him to me and kiss him hungrily, and before I know it, I’m coming again.
I moan loudly into his mouth as he works me through my release.
Wave after wave, my body shakes. When he finally stills, we’re both panting and his eyes find mine.
My limbs feel like jelly as he places a soft kiss to my lips.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He moves and offers me his hand, and I take it.