Page 53 of Rock Bottom

A slow, easy grin spread over his face. “God, I love how British you are,” he said and pulled me into another kiss.

Church straddled my lap, grinding against me through our clothes while the credits played. Neither of us had paid very much attention to the film, which wasn’t surprising since we’d spent the whole movie kissing and touching. That was the surprising part. I hadn’t had a long, drawn-out make-out session like that since I got kicked out of the one-dollar theater when I was fourteen. I hadn’t wanted to.

Sex for me was usually little more than a hookup with someone I met at a concert, or an escort I had to pay for it. The way I lived my life didn’t leave a lot of room for people and relationships. I thought that was what I wanted, what was expected of me. Making out with Church for over an hour was nice. No, better than nice. It was amazing, and he was really getting into it.

He let out a sweet, needy whimper as I pulled his head to the side and moved my lips to his neck. “No marks this time.”

“C’mon, kitten. Maybe just a little one?”

He sighed. “Dante…”

I lowered my hands to his ass and started kneading. God, he had such a great ass. “What if I put it somewhere nobody else but me can see?”

Church leaned away to look down at me, his perfect, pretty lips pressed into a pouty line. I was sure he was going to tell me no with the way he was looking at me, but instead, he pulled his shirt over his head.

My heart clenched as I took in the dozens of scars he’d revealed. Dark marks slashed their way across his skin in random places, some small and others several inches long. Scattered among them were circular marks and rough patches where the skin must’ve been burned away.

I didn’t need to ask what’d happened. He’d already told me that he was in a Syrian prison.

“It’s not pretty, is it?” he said, tossing the shirt aside.

He was perfect, and the scars didn’t detract from who he was. If anything, it told me how strong he was to have survived such horrors, but I didn’t know if that was the right thing to say.

I ran my fingers over the biggest one where his chest hair had never quite grown back and looked up at him. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

“As long as you’re not put off by it. They don’t stop there, and you should know what you’re getting with me.”

“I’m not put off. I’m getting everything I want.” My thumbs brushed over his nipples, and he arched his back into my touch. “You like that?” I asked and did it again.

He groaned and nodded. “They’re really sensitive.”

“Perfect.” I grinned and latched onto the perky pink little nubs, rolling them between my fingers.

Church tipped his head back, and I seized the opportunity, closing my lips over the hollow of his throat. He’d asked me not to leave any marks there, and after seeing all his scars, I’d lost the will to give him anything but pleasure. I showered his skin with soft kisses, working my way down.

I let my hands trail down his chest, admiring every inch of him. How had he gone seventeen years without someone snatching him up?

You can’t have him either, Dante. This arrangement is only temporary. I pushed the thought away. I could worry about the fallout later. Right now, I had the perfect man in my arms, begging for my attention. He deserved to have everything he wanted and more.

I lowered my head, pulling one of his nipples into my mouth and sucking hard. Church cried out, and the sofa creaked as he tightened his grip on the back of it. His hips moved frantically, grinding against me like the friction of our bodies was the only thing he needed in the world. As good as it felt, the position was awkward. Church might’ve been the perfect man, but that height difference was a pain in the neck. Literally.

I released his nipple with a wet pop. “Lie back for me.”

Church slid off my lap and I got up while he laid his head back against the arm of the sofa, stretching out so that his legs were hanging over the other side. It was adorable trying to watch him fit into spaces that were much too small for him. It almost made him look innocent. The pink flush on his face and neck definitely helped with the look.

I climbed back on top of him, straddling his waist, smirking when his hard cock twitched under me. “You okay there, kitten?”

He nodded quickly.

“Is that a yes? I can’t hear your brain rattle.”

Church hissed as I ran my fingertips lightly over his ribs. “Yes.”

“I’m not too heavy?”

He opened one eye and arched an eyebrow. “Not even close.”

“Of course not. You don’t work out every morning outside my window for nothing.” I chuckled and bent down to lick his nipple.

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