Chapter Seventeen #2
“But can you drink from me, since I’m a universal donor?”
Beckham’s gaze went far away. “I don’t know. After the last time…I could barely control myself.”
“That might have just been the connection. You said so yourself.”
“Perhaps,” Beckham said, his eyes dipping to the vein in her neck, then sliding back up.
“Anyway, Harrington wanted to pin something on me about your disappearance, but he couldn’t exactly tell me he had you in his clutches.
And since I came forward immediately, he had to go on as if nothing had happened.
The investigation wasn’t fruitful.” Beckham shrugged.
“He might still believe I’m part of Elle, but I have been careful about my involvement.
It was the reason I couldn’t come to you right away.
I needed to be seen out in public when you escaped so I had an alibi. It killed me to wait.”
Reyna’s heart wrenched at the words. “So, what does this mean for us?”
Beckham responded by moving back into her personal space.
His huge frame dwarfed her small body, but he slid his hands into her dark hair, tilting her head up to him.
Her body responded instinctually, melding against his.
He was hard and solid and strong. Then he brought his mouth down to cover hers and the world slipped away.
As everything with Beckham, he was not gentle or submissive. Once his lips were on hers, he commanded the kiss. His tongue breached the seam of her lips, opening her to him. She gasped as their tongues touched. He was coaxing and delving for more and more, and she gave him all she had.
Her head was light and dizzy. Her heart pounded in her chest. Nothing else existed outside of this moment.
Not the rebellion or Penny or the consequences of their actions.
She wanted nothing in the world more than this man.
He was responding in kind, and she was not going to let him get away this time.
He pulled back, and she reached for him, keeping him close.
He growled low in his throat. His hands skimmed down her neck, over her shoulders, down the curve of her waist, and to her hips.
He dug his fingers into her skin, pulling her tight against his body.
He backed her up into the footboard of the bed, and everything ignited in her core at the thought of how they could use that bed.
“Please,” she whispered against his lips shamelessly.
“Reyna,” he groaned.
“Becks.”
He held her at arm’s length. “You make it very difficult to stop.”
“Then don’t stop.”
“I can’t lose control with you again.”
“You won’t.”
“You said that last time, and it didn’t make it any more true.”
“It’s been so long, Becks.” Reyna reached for the waistband of his pants and tugged him back against her. “I had dreams about us.”
“Dreams?”
“Together,” she whispered. “Vivid dreams.”
Both of his eyebrows rose at that. “Incredibly difficult to stop.”
Her eyes were wide and desperate when she met his gaze. “I was trapped for eight weeks, Beckham. I dreamed of this moment. Don’t you…want me?”
His shoulders relaxed. “Of course I want you.” His jaw flexed, and for a moment, she thought that would be all that he would give her. That he’d leave in the night with her heart in her throat, desperate for him. “I always want you.”
Then his lips landed on hers, and there was a hurried desire in them, as if the only reason he had ever held himself back from her was out of fear for her safety. It eradicated her doubts. Left everything else they were dealing with by the wayside. She would think of them later. Not now.
“I can’t stay,” he said, walking her backward toward the bed.
“Okay,” she said as she ripped at his tie.
His hands found the edge of her pants and shucked them to the ground. “I have somewhere to be in ten minutes.”
“Fine,” she said, undoing buttons. “Ten minutes is enough.”
“You deserve more than a hurried fuck.”
She slammed her lips on his as her fingers touched bare chest. She wouldn’t beg again, but she wasn’t going to let him go without this. She couldn’t.
He groaned deep in the back of his throat, his control splintering as his hands ran along her ass and down between her legs. She was already wet, and the feel of his fingers grazing her through the fabric nearly sent her over the edge. This was real. It was real.
“I’m going to make you come for me.”
“Yes,” she gasped.
He pushed her onto the bed and ripped the fabric of her panties, laying her bare before him. His fangs traveled along the vein in her inner thigh. “I haven’t had enough to eat.”
She groaned. “We could…”
A finger slid inside of her, and her back arched against the comforter. “I don’t trust myself,” he admitted. “If I fuck you, I’ll drain you.”
“I trust you.”
“Don’t,” he said and then buried his face into her pussy.
His tongue ravaged her as if he had been dreaming about eating her pussy as much as she had been dreaming about him all those long weeks apart.
Her body hummed under his practiced measures.
The rough thrust of his fingers and the even swirl of his tongue and the scrape of his fangs against her sensitive core.
“Please,” she begged, unsure if it was for release or for his cock or for those fangs to bury into her. She wanted it all.
As his fingers pushed deeper inside of her, he curved them upward and then moved his wrist up and down. The curved fingers hit a sensitive spot inside of her over and over and over. Until her legs trembled and she clawed at the mattress and her body shook.
“Oh fuck, that feels…”
“More?” he teased, hitting the spot again as he lapped at her clit.
“Fuck!”
She squirmed as if to get away from the intense feelings crawling through her. She wanted him to bury himself in her, and she wanted it now. She turned feral as the pressure mounted, and then there was nothing to do but to hold on as it hit her full force.
She cried out his name into the silence as wave after wave crashed down against her. Her body shuddered and then fell flat as it all ceased, leaving her drifting among the clouds.
Beckham came back to his feet and carefully righted his shirt and tie as he watched her return to reality.
“Hey,” she whispered with bedroom eyes. “You should stay.”
“I wish I could, Little One.”
“You’ll come back?” she asked, rising to a sitting position.
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’ll come back.”
“Soon?”
He nipped her bottom lip. “Very.”
She nodded as she went to pull on a fresh pair of underwear and pants. “I hate this,” she said with her back still to him.
“I know.” He reached for her, pulling her chest against his in an embrace. He pressed his forehead against hers. “I’ll be back. This isn’t forever.”
She swallowed, ignoring that it felt like the end every time he left. Like she was back in her prison and she’d never see him again.
Beckham was to the secret door again when he turned and said, “Reyna, Sydney recorded your conversation about what happened while you were in Visage.”
“I know.” Reyna bit her lip, her stomach dropping.
“She let me hear it.”
Reyna’s cheeks warmed. “And?”
He tipped her chin up, and the fierce predator was revealed in his features. “One day I will rip out Harrington’s throat for what he did to you. That is a promise.”
And somehow, that was a relief.