Luke answered her prayer by meeting her halfway as she impaled herself on him.
She’d never made love so slowly, so deliberately, drawing out the pleasure until it almost felt like agony. So hard and pulsing inside her, Luke slid in and out of her leisurely until she was on the verge of losing her mind.
“I can’t. I can’t continue, Luke. I need it harder. I can’t come like this. It’s too much.” Her voice was raw and now she shuddered, covered in sweat.
Luke sat up, pushing himself even deeper, positioning her legs around his waist. In that position, he continued to sway his hips after robbing her of any sort of control. Her breasts pressed against his torso, his chest hair abrading her sensitive nipples to the point where she moved even harder against him. Her lover cupped her face, pushing her damp hair away. This was way more unsettling than being naked before him. Strong arms came around her body, plastering her against him, his low voice reverberating through her being, setting her ablaze.
“Stop fighting, baby. Just stay with me. Only me. Shut down your brain on what to expect and only feel what I feel for you. The first time I laid eyes on you, you infuriated me, but all I could think about was turning you over my desk, lifting your skirt, and plunging myself deep inside you, just like I am now. And when we did it, do you remember? It was savage and raw, and I can still recall the sensation of emptying my balls inside you when you screamed as you came.”
The images he brought to her mind sent electric shocks through her core, her pussy greedy, but Luke kept a tight grip on her hips, maintaining the slow pace.
“Your fire drew me. I can’t help but touch you, but it’s not enough. I need to see if you’re as wet as I am hard. Constantly. And even if you make me cum like a freight train, I want more. Your mind, your trust, your heart.”
Sloane opened her lips to speak, but it was impossible to utter a single word. Emotions shut her up, clogging her throat, squeezing her heart. Her body shivered, the orgasm she’d believed impossible hovering just out of reach.
Her body’s senses were overloaded, but it was how Luke reached into the very fabric of her heart and soul that made her tumble.
“How I wish you could see yourself like I see you. You’re courageous, beautiful, and frustratingly stubborn. You’re so much more than the Vigilante or your addiction. Trust my body if you can’t trust my words, Sloane. One day you’ll believe in yourself and allow yourself to be part of your team for good. Allow love into your life. You’re worth it, Sloane. I love you.”
Her arms tightened around him as she cried out, her orgasm sweeping over her like a warm wave, making her drown in the pleasure and Luke’s scent. Lost to reality, the man in her arms shouted, his own pleasure overtaking him.
How could this incredible man believe in her when she’d never believed in herself? Seeing through her weaknesses when she couldn’t forgive them? Offer her so much when she was so afraid to give? She hadn’t thought life would be so cruel to put such a man on her path while she was this broken.
Tears fell from her eyes, all the energy in her body draining until there was no strength and her vision edged with black, as she was overwhelmed by love for the first time in her life.
Chapter 22
“Sloane!”
At her name, Sloane once again burrowed deeper under the covers. The outside world annoyed her, and she never wanted to deal with it ever again. It wasn’t the first time someone had yelled at her through the closed door. At first it had been Devin, who’d tried every joke he knew. Then Melina, whose worried voice almost made her cry again. Lance just yelled, and he’d even launched his big body against the door in vain. Sam, Joshua, Arno, and Nieve, all the team members had attempted to coax her out, but Sloane ignored them all.
In fact, she tried hard to shut off her brain, return to the oblivion of sleep. How long had it been since Luke had left? The moment his face materialized in her mind, she stopped breathing and her throat clogged with tears. After the most incredible sex of her life, scratch that, the most meaningful connection of her life, she’d woken up cold and alone. When Sloane went looking for him, she’d discovered all his things were gone. Lance had told her he’d left hours before and didn’t want to be contacted anymore.
There was no way to express the hurt she’d felt. No amount of pain, no hardship or sorrow she’d ever faced could compare to the state of her heart at that moment.
Her mind blanked until she found herself back in the room, locking the door behind her, even using a chair to block it, making sure nobody would bother her until she felt steadier, until the fact Luke had abandoned her, turned his back on her, didn’t make her want to scream in agony.
The locked door wasn’t to prevent people from intruding, but to keep her from leaving. Once the tears had dried, and desolation infiltrated every crevice of her heart, another hunger took hold, one she hadn’t felt so keenly in years. Sloane knew that if she left the room, her first stop would be to one of the city’s dark alleys, and not as the Vigilante, but as its counterpart, a much darker and ruthless demon she wasn’t sure she could vanquish another time.
The desire was gnawing at her like never before and it made her huddle even deeper under the covers, as if she could bury herself into the mattress.
“Sloane, please talk to me. I just want to hear your voice.”
Ben McKenzie’s soft drawl came from the other side of the door. Ben, the unshakable, the know-it-all, the profiler.
Even behind the door, under the covers, she’d heard him walking, the familiar thumping of his white cane following his steps on the creaky floor. The last thing she wanted was to be analyzed. It was useless. She was useless.
“Leave me alone, Ben. I’ll come out when I well damn please.” She almost didn’t recognize her own raw and trembling voice.
“No problem. If you don’t mind, I’ll sit here for a while.”
Was he serious? With a sigh, Sloane lay still. From the other side of the door, she heard rustling and a loud thump. True to his word, he was sitting on the floor outside her door.
Half expecting to sink back into her own abyss, praying for numbness, it was burning annoyance that drew her out of bed, and had her marching toward the door. How good it felt to be led by anger.
“Get lost, Ben! Preferably away from my door.”
“Want a coffee?”
Sloane threw her arms in the air at that nonsense. She could play that game too. “Do you have any cocaine? I could do with an upper right now. At the point I’m at, I’d even try something harder.”
Ben didn’t answer her. Her anger fizzling, she sat on the bed, hands shaking, her body bathed in a cold sweat. It felt so similar to the withdrawal symptoms she’d experienced during her rehab, fainter, but just as scary.
“I think waffles would go great with coffee. Or pancakes with butter. I love butter with syrup. I drown my pancakes in them. Even burned, they taste great with syrup.” The more he talked the more her stomach unknotted before rumbling. “Why don’t you take a shower while I go prepare pancakes? Make it quick, I’m hungry.”
Ben moved and shuffled behind the door before walking away.
Alone, Sloane stood, then hesitated. Standing at the end of her bed, she knew she was about to make the most important decision of her life but couldn’t make up her mind which way to go.