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Chapter Seven

West

She stole my damn breath, her beauty astonishing. I wanted to memorize every inch of her flesh and take her places she'd never been before. I wanted to watch her smile and laugh, sleep and wake. I wanted her on her knees, her back, belly, and my fucking face.

I wanted to make her mine.

Traveling the country many times over, I had been with some gorgeous women and endured some mind-blowing sex. But Brooklyn wasn't just an ego fuck. Beautiful and provocative in ways I'd never felt with other women, she held an inner beauty, a deep soul, and deserved the world at her feet. Not some broken man who was nowhere near picking up the pieces of his harrowing past.

I stood in front of the bed, watching her swallow and her breathing accelerate as her gaze stayed glued to me rolling a condom over my cock. "Like what you see, baby?"

And there it was. That small, involuntary shiver rippling through her body. Those blue eyes burning with need. That tooth sinking behind her lip and the subtle nod. She was exquisite.

I closed the space between us, lowered my head to her ankle, then traveled up her thigh until I was met by slick arousal and the sweet, tangy scent of a woman that could turn the strongest man to fucking jelly.

"Oh." She drew in a breath as I moved my tongue through her slit and flicked a finger over her clit.

"You are so damn beautiful, woman. So wet and receptive to my touch. And once I'm done tasting this sweet pussy, I want to fill you with my dick and show you how a monster can make an angel come harder than they ever imagined possible."

Staring at me with those lust-filled pools of blue with the rasp of her breath growing heavy, she blinked away, shivering. Both were facets of vulnerability that had a feral groan lifting up my throat, and I began licking and ravaging her like the desperate man she made me become. She was heaven on my mouth and perfect like I knew she would be. With my face buried in her cleft, I thrust my tongue into her, licking with long strokes, parting the sensitive flesh, and flicking the bud of her clit. Her hips churned, her body bowed, hoarse pleas fell from her lips, and she gasped a breathy, "West."

"Baby, I've wanted my lips on your cunt since the moment I looked into your eyes. Do you want to come this way? With my mouth on you?"

"Mmm," she whimpered, her eyes heavy-lidded and her fingers tightening in my hair. I pressed two fingers inside her, stretching her and asking," How about like this? On my hand?" I added a third finger and plunged deep. She jerked, groaning and chewing on her bottom lip. "Tell me what you want, woman. Just say it, and it's yours. My fingers in your pussy? My tongue? Both?"

She exhaled. "I … I want…"

"Words, Brooklyn. You're a big girl and I'm certain you've said pussy before. Tell me what you want or else it ends right now."

Her eyes widened and she gnawed at her bottom lip. "Okay! Your tongue, dammit! I want your tongue in my pussy."

Though I knew a part of her wanted to stop me, I also knew the other part wanted the same thing I did. So, I eased my fingers from her and lifted her legs over my shoulders. Holding her in position and locking my eyes onto hers, I parted her with my thumbs then stroked my tongue through her hot, wet slit, slowly, intentionally, my gaze never leaving hers. Then I delved inside, consuming her honey, eating at her like a starved madman and basking in the intimacy between us. She tasted like fucking heaven, looked like a fucking angel. I drove deeper, licking into her, latching onto her clit and tugging at it, then licking again until she was whimpering helpless cries, her inner muscles clenching, and warm sweet liquid met my lips.

"How was that, beautiful?" I asked while watching goose bumps lift on the soft flesh of her inner thighs as I kissed my way up her body until my crown was at her entrance.

"Good," she whispered. "Perfect."

For a second, I just stared into her eyes that were liquid, heated, at the sexy splattering of freckles that ran over the curve of her nose, and at her gorgeous hair splayed around the mattress. Then, I lowered my lips to hers for a deep kiss to let her taste what I did, took her face between my hands, and pressed inside her in one bottoming thrust.

She arched into me, and that instant something passed between us. Damned if I knew what it was, but with my dick balls-deep, her gaze and its soft blue perfection staring into mine with something I hadn't seen before, all I knew was that I wanted. Christ Jesus, I just … wanted.

I eased out then slammed back in and started driving into her hard, kissing her with the same feral urgency, and doing my best to reach the very end of her soul. She felt like nothing I'd ever experienced, every drive and thrust a whole new burst of sensations. I wanted every hole on her body. Wanted her to still feel me tomorrow. I wanted to ruin her for all other men.

"West." Panting, she broke the kiss—her lips swollen and beautiful, her eyes burning like blue fire—and lowered her hands down my back until she was gripping the globes of my ass. "How does something so wrong feel so right?" Her fingertips dug into my flesh as she hoisted her hips and urged me in deeper.

For fuck's sake, I was a criminal, a cold-hearted killer. We didn't belong together. Could never be anything beyond what we were in this moment. Yet, her words had me falling, weakening, and wondering if a damaged, soulless man like me could ever erase the past and mend what had been broken inside me when I was eleven.

Her face still in my hands, my thrusts deepening as she clenched around my cock, I ran the pad of my thumb around her lips. "I don't have the answers, sweetheart. I wish like hell I did."

"I want you," she whimpered. "Whether it's wrong or right or the most fucked-up idea I've ever considered, I want you. And this." She clenched her inner muscles, hugging my cock like a tight sleeve, then delved the fingernails of one hand deep into my ass cheek while lowering the other between us and pressing against my taint. Every muscle in my body tensed as a shitstorm of memories tried fucking with my head. A part of me wanted to grab her hand and rip it from her arm. You like that, boy?

Staring at me with the pad of her finger circling the small erogenous zone and brushing my balls with a mix of tenderness and sternness had me lost in licentious nirvana. Feeling a way I never thought I was capable of. Christ, I was done, seconds from blowing. I moved her arm, then shoved her legs up and started powering into her like a mindless animal while trying my best to hold back and let her come first.

"Did you like that?" she uttered with her eyes so blue and hungry. "When I touched you there?"

Shit, this woman was more than perfect, she was a motherfucking godsend. Before I could get the words out, she was squeezing the complete hell out of my cock like she was trying to absorb me. Cum was lifting up my dick and I was jerking, pushing her thighs back even more for depth, and unloading into the condom. And just like perfect clockwork, she moaned, ground her fingertips into my ass cheeks, then trembled beneath me before climaxing with a violent, sudden jerk.

"Christ, baby." Both of us panting and sweat dripping off my brow, my head fell into the curve of her neck. Everything about this and her and us felt so damn good, so much more than anything I had ever experienced. My heart thudded against my chest, dread knotting my gut. I still had to tell her about the camera and thoughts of hurting her again felt like blades being thrust through my heart. I'd rather walk through open flames than bring more disappointment to this woman's life. Since I'd worked for Stealth, I'd been strong, hadn't once let my feelings come into play.

But right now, I was a confused fucking mess.

"Jesus," she breathed while moving a hand through my damp hair.

I lifted my head and traced the curve of her jaw with my fingertip. "Yes, baby. Jesus," I repeated as I felt like I'd just died and gone to heaven.

She blinked toward my neck and ran a finger over the ink. "Is there meaning behind this? Does it have something to do with … what you do for a living?"

I huffed a laugh not meant to ring humor, then rolled onto my back. "No, baby. It has nothing to do with my job. The snake is a symbol of power, strength, and transformation. It signifies a nineteen-year-old boy who withstood a dark, ugly childhood finally being able to shed his skin."

Her eyes glazed with sentiment. "As in you?"

"Yeah," is all I said, not willing to discuss my past. Not ready to reveal a little boy with drug-addicted, cruel parents who did nothing but belittle and abuse emotionally and sexually.

"I'm a good listener." The pads of her fingers brushed over my neck while nausea did its damnedest to lift up my throat.

"How about you close your eyes instead? Take a few minutes."

She nodded and lowered her head to my chest. "I'm sorry, West."

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