I’m hot and swollen. Soaked, and as I slip a finger through my soft lips, his hand fists my hair and tips my head back. Angry eyes meet my excited ones, and his lip curls up into a sneer. “That wasn’t nice, linda.”
“Are you going to punish me?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I’m going to watch you come as I use your pretty little mouth.” Pulling away, he bends at the waist and gives me a kiss that curls my toes and sets my blood on fire. It’s fast and perfectly messy, but it’s over too soon and then I find myself choking on his cock on my next breath.
Javi’s stroke is near punishing, and with my hair wrapped around his fingers, I’m held still while he strokes in deep. He holds still when his balls meet my chin, tapping two fingers against the bulge in my throat and I swallow hard, breathing through my nose and ignoring the urge to gag.
I’m at his mercy. Being used by him.
I love it more than I should, but I can’t help and rub my clit a little harder while he stares down my body and begins to thrust in time with my fingers. “Faster, Mariah. Get yourself off while sucking my cock.” The two fingers on my throat become his hand and he wraps it tight, moaning each time he strokes in and feels himself expand my throat.
“I’m close,” I whimper around his shaft, spit dribbling down the side of my mouth and he wipes up the mess, pushing his thumb inside my mouth, further stretching me. I’m full. His taste dances on my tongue, but it’s when he pumps his thumb twice and then drags the glistening digit to my left nipple and pulls the piercing that I come.
I scream around him, eyes closed, and rubbing my clit faster as my orgasm takes me over. Pleasure grips me out of nowhere, the hold nearly painful as the pulsing wave consumes me until becoming a throb, and my body feels as if I’ve been electrocuted by a thousand pinpricks. But that’s when I start coming back to my senses and the guttural groans above me become clear.
Javi’s fucking my mouth with wild abandon. No stopping. No concern, he strokes in and out at a rapid pace while bottoming out each time, using my hair to guide my mouth.
He feels larger, his growls harsher, and when our eyes connect again, he stills. “Motherfuck.”
Spurt after spurt glides down my throat and I swallow fast, making sure to not spill a single drop.
We’re sitting in my bed an hour later, naked and with our legs crossed at the ankles. He’s to my left and quiet, humming now and then some tune I don’t recognize, and eating his slice of tiramisu while my phone lies between us. No shame. Not a care as his dick twitches each time my eyes wander lower.
And they do. A lot.
He’s muscles and control and danger.
He’s tattoos and a few scars that only serve the purpose of raping my psyche.
And while I’ve fought this thing between us, I know that here, like this, was inevitable. Javier Lucas didn’t take my no at face value and pushed and pushed until my will gave in. He’s been persistent enough for the both of us and while I still have a few reservations, I’m at peace with what’s happened.
Happy. Excited.
Is this fast? Yes.
Does my attraction to a man like him make sense after what happened before? No.
Moreover, he’s never given me a reason to doubt his word. He’s a man of integrity.
“I’m not a piece of meat, you know.” Javi’s rough voice breaks my appraisal, and I blush when the words hit me. I look away and toward my turned-off TV hoping for a miracle to break the now heated flush that covers down to the tops of my breast. “Not that I usually mind when it comes to you, but you promised an explanation and a search through your front door security feed.”
“You suck,” is my mature reply and he snorts, hand on my knee while his body shakes beside mine. “I do.” His hand sweeps higher, pausing just at the edge of my core and squeezes, grip firm. “And I’ll be more than happy to remind you after.”
A hard shiver rushes through me at the same time I slap his arm. “Maybe I don’t want you to show me.”
“You do.”
“So cocky.”
“I see no point in denying that.” Placing his now empty plate on the nightstand with his unoccupied hand, he shifts to face me a little, a subtle turn of hips that pushes those long, calloused fingers against my still-sensitive clit. “We both know who we are and where we stand; the only thing I need clarification on is the murder of Lane Dermot.”
“You swing without lubing me up first.”
His chuckle warms me even when I should be annoyed. “Always aim to please.”
“All right, dork. How much do you know?”
All traces of amusement die and he’s back to being the stone-faced killer I met weeks ago. “Nothing but what I told you. Please fill in the blanks.”
“Okay. But first…” I put my plate down and reach for the large afghan I keep on my bed at all times, pulling it over my naked body “…for distractions’ sake.”
“I’d rather you don’t.”
“I’d rather a few things as well, but they’re not conducive to this conversation.” Javi grunts but doesn’t pull my blanket away. Instead, he gives me his attention and waits with patience for me to begin. “Lane and I met years ago when I was still in high school, and we became friends. You know, the kids of affluent families that didn’t fully abide by the law and run in the same social circles, we bumped into each other a lot. He was older than me, a jerk to most and spoiled, but never disrespectful toward me.”
“How long did you date?”
“Two years, and no, I didn’t love him then or now.” For some reason, I’m ashamed to admit my faults to this man. To let him see me as anything but a smart, fierce, and independent woman. “My reality now isn’t what it was back then, Javi. I made bad choices. Let others dictate my life.”
“Malcolm?” There’s venom in his tone, and while I still don’t meet his eyes, I grab his hand and intertwine our fingers. Squeeze them. “Did he force you?”
“No. He hated Lane.”
“Then who?”
“My parents.”
“I haven’t met them.” Not a question, although his raised brow and pursed lips show displeasure. He’s demanding an explanation without uttering the words, but I read those warm brown eyes, and the anger in them isn’t directed at me.
“And you more than likely won’t for a long time.” Sighing, I reach over to the bedside table and pick up my bottle of water, twisting the cap off and taking a long pull. It gives me a small reprieve, the moment needed to explain the dynamic he isn’t aware of. “They’ve been exiled to Europe for the foreseeable future by Malcolm for their role and the audacity to try and pin the incident on me.”
“Incident?”
“I killed Lane the night he attacked me in this apartment two years ago. A few days before our anniversary/engagement dinner was to be held.”
16
PRIDE SURGES THROUGH my chest at her words.
She put the dog down with mercy because had he still been alive today—breathing and walking this earth—I’d have hunted him down and left his entrails for Mildred to find.