Page 45 of Shattered Trinket
Because of our significant height difference, she has to sit higher on my body to reach my face, something I’d find comical if I wasn’t able to feel how thoroughly soaked her shorts are as her slick bleeds through them and my shirt, making it stick to my skin.
I have to stop myself from begging her to move just a little higher up so she can sit on my face, and my fingers twitch to reach down and slide inside to see just how wet she is for me. Before I can give in to that urge, however, she slips her fingers through mine, gripping each of my hands in a vise until my fingers close around her much smaller hands.
She locks eyes with me, and I raise my brow at her as if to say, ‘Well, you got me where you want me. So what are you gonna do about it?’. Her fingers squeeze my hands so tight that I can feel her nails pressing into the sensitive skin there. Without hesitation, she crashes her lips against mine in a desperate, breath-stealing kiss. Her soft, copper curls fall like a curtain around us, leaving us in our own little world where nothing else exists but her and me as her scent wraps around us, invading my senses and tempting me.
As Cozette nips my bottom lip, a pleasurable groan escapes me, surrendering to the unexpected role reversal and reveling in how seamlessly she took control. Her kisses begin frantic—fierce—with a passionate need I can feel down into my bones, all tongues and teeth as she vents her frustration at my teasing out on my lips. So different from any other time she’s kissed me, and yet I’m just as addicted.
At one point, she bites a little too hard, and I fuckingmoanas the sting of pain blends with the overwhelming pleasure consuming me with her lips on mine. She tries to pull back when the coppery tang of my blood hits her taste buds, and I’m helpless to stop the growl that sneaks through as my muscles tense at the thought of her stopping over a little nip. Her breaths pant out across my lips as she holds herself still, heart hammering against my chest as she tries to catch her breath while her lips stay slightly connected with mine. I can sense the hesitation in her, feel that she’s going to get lost in her head and retreat if I don’t ease her mind somehow.
“Hey,” I whisper softly against her lips, feeling a lump forming in my throat when her eyes meet mine and I see the hurt glaring back at me, regret flooding through my system like ice in my veins.
“Please don’t cry. I’m sorry, Dove. I didn’t mean to be so aggressive or growl. I wasn’t… I didn’t want you to stop,” I tell her gently, working my hands free so I can bring one up to swipe away the tears trying to fall and cup her cheek.
She nuzzles into my hand, cracking my heart open when she sniffles and pokes her bottom lip out as she pulls back enough to run her finger over the split in my lip that’s already stopped bleeding.
“I don’t like causing you pain or seeing you bleed,” she whimpers, and my brows furrow.
Deciding we should sit up so we can have a little chat, I wrap my arms around her back to hold her to me and maneuver us into an upright position before scooting more comfortably into the nest she built.
I lean against a mound of pillows, the right side of my lips curling upwards when I spot the bat I’d had with me all day, keeping it close to me so it’d soak my scent in. When I look back at her, her head is bowed, and she’s picking at her fingers.Placing one hand over both of hers to stop the fidgeting and the other beneath her chin until she’s looking at me, I let my eyes roam her face as I soak in every twitch of her features.
“You didn’t hurt me, Dove. I liked it. Loved it, even. Bite me, scratch me, leave marks on my skin so everyone sees and knows that I’m yours. Don’t hold back with me just because you’re afraid of hurting me. At the end of the day, the only thing that hurts me is whatever hurts you.”
She touches the scar on my cheek, and I close my eyes, leaning into her touch reflexively.
“Do you like… pain? Do you need it?” she asks, her tone timid and almost afraid, cracking my tough exterior into splinters.
I shake my head, rubbing her bare thigh, and mutter, “No, Dove. I don’t crave pain with my pleasure. But I crave everything you’ll give me, in any form. I want to see you completely unburdened by your mind as you let go and completely trust in your instincts without questioning yourself.”
She looks off to the side, biting her lip and tucking her hair behind her ears, and I rub her thighs as I give her time to sort through her thoughts.
“I don’t know what I’m doing or even what to do, and I feel so… so inadequate and silly admitting that to you. I want t-totry,want to learn with someone I care about and that I trust. I’m terrified, but I really want you to replace the memories, the imprints of the past left on my soul. Ineedyou to, Jeremiah,” she whispers out eventually, a tiny whimper escaping as her lips wobble, and I struggle to swallow around the lump forming in my throat.
“You arenotinadequate, Cozy. You’re just inexperienced, and there’s nothing wrong with that. As much as I know you hate it, I know your history, and I know you have a lot to work through, especially when it comes to intimacy. I can wait for you for as long as you need me to, because you’re worth the wait. Morethan worth it. There’s no need to rush things,” I tell her softly, my voice thick with emotion as I tenderly run my index finger down her cheek and neck.
“We can take things slowly, take our time and enjoy every moment together. You’ve got the power, baby. You’re the one calling the shots here, and we won’t do anything you don’t want to do. If you’re really determined, there are plenty of things we can try in the shallow end before we dive off into the deep end. We can learn what you like and don’t like together at your pace. If you need me to help guide you, I will, while you maintain every bit of control over the situation. Just tell me what you need.”
Seventeen
Jeremiah
I pull her down until her forehead rests against mine, needing that connection with her, and she lets out a nervous breath that brushes against my lips. Her lashes flutter, and this time when I notice the tears gleaming in her eyes, I know they’re not from fear or upset. She’s just understanding finally, and it’s impossible to miss the love shining from those vivid blue depths or the grateful way she’s staring down at me.
She shouldn’t have to show me gratitude because of my respect for her boundaries or willingness to move at her pace,and I wish she wouldn’t. But it’s something I understand because I know it all. I know every horrifying detail of what she has endured, and although I wish I could erase those images from my mind, I can’t even begin to fathom what it must be like for her to carry those memories after surviving them.
Closing her eyes, she cautiously leans forward to press her lips against mine again, much more careful this time as she keeps her teeth to herself, though I wish she wouldn’t. I want her to bite me everywhere, need to look down and see the indentions of her teeth marring my flesh after I have them permanently tattooed, so they never disappear and serve as a constant reminder that I’m hers.
Slowly, her kisses become more sensual, her tongue curling around mine as she gently cups my cheeks. As I tenderly lick her tongue, she releases soft whimpers that I greedily swallow, refusing to let them escape, because right here in this moment, they’re just for me.
Mine.
One day, she’ll have a multitude of reasons to express gratitude, not just for those who treat her with basic human decency and respect her as an individual.
One day, when she reflects on the past, the memories will hopefully become so distant that they’ll feel like they belong to someone else entirely.
One day… she’ll attain complete freedom, where her mind and soul can finally break free from all the burdens weighing down her spirit.
But until then, I’ll pour all my efforts into replacing the nightmares that torment her with beautiful memories that will light up her face with a smile instead of tears. I’ll make it my mission to replace the negative experiences she’s had with positive ones that she was always meant to have. Starting withher firstrealsexual experience, with absolutely no penetration, as much as my cock weeps in dismay in my jeans.