Page 82 of Shadows of Justice

He puts me down and gets to work on my shorts, the soaked material sticking to me. We’re out of the rain, under the wraparound porch roof, but the slickness of our wet skin sliding together still feels mouthwatering. He pulls them and my thong down in one swipe, and then undoes the button and zipper on his jeans. While his hands are occupied I pull on his T-shirt, needing his skin on mine like color needs light. He lifts his arms but leaves his jeans loose around his waist, his hard cock springing free. He pulls back slightly to take me in—mostly bare, droplets still cascading down my skin.

His eyes feast on my body for a moment as both of our breaths mingle in the space, looking like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

“There hasn’t been a second that’s gone by that I haven’t been driven insane by the memory of you,” he says, his voice like gravel. He pumps his veiny length from base to tip, wetting his lips. His hungry eyes lift to meet mine. “By the loss of you.”

My heart is hammering in my chest because I know exactly what’s about to happen. If the memory of him inside of me isn’t enough to make me come undone, the feral beast staring at me is.

In one fluid motion, he lifts one of my legs to support it under my knee and enters me fully. I groan into his mouth and he swallows the sound, his tongue entering me at the same moment as his hardened length. The feeling of him stretching me open is the sweetest release as he drives into me again and again at a dizzying pace. The wood siding digs into my back, the sting adding to the delectable burn of his cock. With his other hand he reaches down and circles my clit, putting perfectly applied pressure exactly where I need it. I bite my lip, the tension already coiling in my belly. I can feel the pressure building, about to erupt in a way that only Leo can work out of my body.

A moan breaks through me and his eyes flash open, a dangerous smirk spreading his lips. Instantly his pace slows and he removes his thumb from my pussy, the crest I’m chasing moving out of my reach. I whimper pathetically, unable to hold onto any semblance of pride around this man.

He strips me down to raw, clawing need. Every time.

“No, Genevieve,” he purrs, “silencio, mí amor.”

I kiss him hard, moving my hips. We both groan as the action slides him deliciously slow, in and out of my pussy. I’m dripping down my legs, unable to differentiate now between the rain and my juices. He starts to move again, and I remove his arm from beneath my knee and place his hand over my mouth, needing all the help I can get. Then I snake the leg around his waist, pulling him even deeper inside me.

“Fuck me, Leo,” I say against his parted fingers as another crack of lightning strikes nearby. “I need you. I’ve needed you.”

His eyes smolder and he picks up his pace again as his thumb returns to my clit. He dips his head to bite the sensitive flesh of my neck, just below my ear. Another cry escapes me at the same time the thunder rumbles, drowning out the sound, the pleasure too much to keep inside. The pressure builds again, coiling tightly, feeling like I’m going to combust in an explosion of sensations. His hand leaves my mouth to circle my throat, the pressure making stars dance in my eyes.

I can tell he’s close. He moans along with me, my hips bucking to meet him thrust for thrust.

A final, fiery crack pierces the sky, covering my strangled cry as the wave of pleasure crests and crashes over me. My eyes pinch shut as my inner walls convulse around him and he rocks, bracing a hand against the wall for support to keep us both upright. I feel his cock pulse, spilling himself inside of me as he releases a primal, satisfying groan. The answering thunder shakes the house, vibrating my legs and rumbling in my chest.

As I’m coming apart in his arms, I feel the fragments of myself piecing back together.

He rests his forehead against mine, both our breaths jagged and labored. He threads our fingers together and brings them to his lips, placing a kiss on each of my knuckles. His scars interlace with my milky complexion, creating a perfect painting of what opposites we are, but of how well we meld as one.

He grips my chin and kisses me again, this time slow and reverent, savoring me—worshipping me. I open my eyes and see him staring at me, the crazed wildness tamed—at least for now.

I watch him, afraid to even blink. Afraid that I’ll wake up from this dream.

Chapter Twenty-Seven - Imperfectly Perfect

Sunday, August 23rd

Ishiver, my body coming down from its high, and I’m suddenly chilled in my dripping state.

Leo notices and bends to pick up our discarded clothes. As we dress, we exchange smiles and soft laughter when our eyes meet. I suddenly feel somewhat shy, the shock of the whole experience fading and reality starting to set in.

Where in the blazing fuck do we go from here?

The storm is passing, the rain reduced to a light sprinkle and the rumble of thunder only a low growl in the distance. Before either of us can speak, barking distracts us. Leo’s head turns toward the sound, taking in the sight of my wrinkly meatball who's fogging up the windows with his feigned aggression.

“You got a dog?”

I shrug, biting my lip. “My therapist thought it would be a good idea.”

He nods and caresses my face, pushing my wet hair back. I must look like a drowned rat, but he’s gazing at me like I’ve had a full day at the salon.

“Let’s get you both inside and warm,” he says, buttoning his jeans. I feel my eyes widen.

“A-are you sure?” I say, suddenly more nervous than before I walked into The Roost. “You don’t have to . . . you know. Don’t feel pressure.”

“I don’t,” he says. “I’d love for you to come in. Unless, of course, you’re not comfortable.”

I search his eyes, something akin to vulnerability in them. He’s as nervous as I am, but it’s a good nervous—I think.

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