Page 23 of Ruthless Salvation
“Come … during penetration.”
I leaned in so that my lips were close to her ear, my cock teasing her backside. “There’s no rules here, Stormy. I want back inside you. I want to watch your fuck-me lips part as I push inside you. If that heavenly pink pussy of yours wants to feel how painfully hard you make me, lay those palms on the counter and let me make you feel good.”
Hesitantly, she leaned forward. It was the most beautiful goddamn sight I’d ever seen. Ass pressed out, round and curvy and begging for attention. My hand absently caressed her smooth skin. The thought of my handprint marking her was an impulse I couldn’t resist. A resounding slap pierced the air as my palm made contact with her right ass cheek.
A tendril of worry surfaced that I might have hurt her, only to have it vanquished with intense satisfaction when she arched even further and produced a guttural moan.
“Fuck,you’d look incredible with my cum shot across your back.” I soothed the heated skin with a caress. “Do you touch yourself when you’re alone?”
“Yes.”
“Show me.” I adored the way she immediately obeyed except that she dropped her gaze to the sink. “Eyes on me.”
As soon as her eyes met mine, I surged inside her. She felt so damn good that my hands clamped down on her hips with a bruising grip. I breathed deeply, in then out, trying to maintain control of myself and not fuck her like a goddamn animal.
When I started to move inside her, Storm’s lips parted, and her hand picked up speed. She wasn’t just following instructions; she was feeling it. Lost in the moment with me.
Fuck it. Restraint is overrated.
I lay my hand flat on her upper back and bent her farther forward. “You drive me out of my goddamn mind.” My ragged words were the only warning she had before I pounded into her, pistoning relentlessly in pursuit of my sanity. As though somewhere deep inside her, I might find a cure for the madness that plagued me.
Stormy didn’t just steady herself against my assault; she pressed back into my thrusts with all her might as thoughshewere the one fuckingme. She rode my cock, her eyes never leaving mine. The sight unraveled my DNA until I was nothing but the most primal of my basic instincts. My body clenched with preparedness to fight off rivals, and my lips parted with the release of a savage roar. As the possessive bellow rang in the air, Storm’s inner muscles clamped like a fucking fist around my cock. She let out a wanton moan as her release overtook her. Wave after wave, her body seized and clenched, driving me over the cliff’s edge with her.
Never in my life had I experienced anything more fundamentally raw.
I had to wrap Storm in my arms and hug her to me to keep her upright, her body trembling all over. Our chests heaved in tandem as we steadied ourselves and processed what had passed between us. Not that it could be fully processed or understood, the same way the indiscriminate chaos of a tornado struck with no explanation. This consuming chemistry rendered us powerless.
Once I regained a granule of sanity, I eased my grip on Storm and allowed her to face me. Her tangled, sweaty hair fell in thick waves next to her face. I swept it over her shoulder, bringing to my attention that her breasts were still exposed. Her lungs froze for a second as I swept a finger inside the cup of her bra and eased it up over her breast.
I saw her entire tattoo for the first time and realized it had been inked over a scar. Only the upper edge was normally visible, peeking out from her shirt. Three flowers in full bloom with a bee buzzing above them. I should have known it would be something simple yet feminine. That was so …her. But the scar was a surprise. It looked like it might have been a burn, though the shaded ink made it hard to discern.
“What happened?” I started to trace the area, but Storm shifted away from me and righted her shirt.
“Car accident.” She kept her eyes averted. I might have said it was the effects of the awkward aftermath of a first time, but something told me it was more. She didn’t like to talk about the scar. Why? What had happened? I wanted to know. I wanted to know every goddamn thing about her.
I’d hoped beyond hope for both our sakes that tonight would rid her from my system. That I could let her be and not darken the glow that radiated off her, but fate had other plans. As we stood and prepared to go our separate ways, the gravitational pull I felt only intensified.
We were both in so much fucking trouble.
“Let me grab my stuff, and I’ll take you home,” I said gruffly.
“I can’t. I came with Micky, and I don’t want her to have to go home alone.”
I wanted to delay our separation as long as possible, and I sure as fuck wasn’t letting her wander the streets with Micky in this shit part of the city. I opened the door and stuck my head into the hall while unwinding my wraps. Bishop stood at a healthy distance. Smart man.
“You seen a girl named Micky try to come back here?”
On cue, the slender woman herself stepped into view, arms crossed harshly over her chest, and a look of supreme accusation hardening her feminine features. “You gonna let me have my girl back?”
“No.” I returned my attention to Bishop. “Find someone to take Micky home.”
“Thafuck?” Her voice followed me back into the room.
“All taken care of.” I slid on a shirt and pants from my duffel, then threw the rest of my crap in the bag. “Come on.” I took her hand in mine and led her from the room.
“Storm, honey. You okay?” Micky called from where Bishop kept her at bay.
“It’s all good, Mick. Promise.” Stormy shot over her shoulder. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”