Page 116 of Unbroken

There were a few golf clubs, bats, two sledgehammers, and a crowbar. She scanned the options available, running her fingers over each of them before choosing one of the bats. Testing the weight of it in her hand, she hit the barrel against her other palm.

There was a sort of bright intensity in her eyes that made me move quicker. Although I wasn’t planning on fully participating and leaving most of the breaking to her, I still grabbed a sledgehammer and handed her a pair of goggles before opening the door.

Even wearing the thick clear goggles, she was fucking perfect. She spun in a circle, surveying the room, while I headed straight to the control panel on the wall. In less than a minute, the playlist I’d curated began thumping through the speakers on the ceiling.

Her excitement and smile were contagious. “You’ve thought of everything,” she hollered over the music. I shrugged and motioned to the room with the sledgehammer in my hand.

“Go for it, sweetheart. Break shit.”

She tossed the bat and gripped the handle in both hands. Her first swing was hard and fast and shattered the screen of an old TV. She hadn’t hesitated or contemplated what she might hit first.

From where I stood behind her, all I could see was the exaggerated rise and fall of her shoulders. Pieces of the TV had splintered off, and the cracks in the screen ran through it in no particular pattern, spearing off in every direction.

With another deep breath, she unleashed herself on the rest of the room, swinging the bat with enough force that anything in her path was immediately decimated. It was kind of beautiful to watch her free all that anger she’d been holding onto.

With the hard rock beat echoing around us, she shatteredseveral glass bottles on top of a large piece of furniture and nailed an old computer tower sitting next to it. Then she began swinging so quickly that I couldn’t identify an item before she wrecked it. Glass shattered, and pieces flew everywhere. Minutes passed, and she didn’t let up.

Finally, when she’d nearly annihilated one of the two side tables in the room beyond recognition, she turned toward me. Each breath was coming out in a difficult, ragged pant that I couldn’t hear over the music, but I could see in the way her chest rose and fell. Tears were streaming down her face, and my heart was as broken and shattered as everything in the room.

I took a step, ready to comfort her or do whatever I needed to, but she beat me to it. The bat slipped from her grip and clattered unceremoniously to the floor. She strode toward me, her long legs quickly eating up the space between us as she tugged the goggles off her face.

She dropped those to the floor, too, and I didn’t have much time to react before she slammed her mouth over mine. Having never actually put them on, I released my own goggles from my grip and tossed the sledgehammer to the side.

The impact of her body was forceful enough that I staggered back a few steps before finding my balance once again. My back hit the wall, and Blakely’s hands clasped either side of my face. The softness of her palms was a beautiful contradiction, to the thick stubble along my jaw.

My own hands found her waist, slipping over the smooth, satin fabric of her skirt as I held her close. Although it wasn’t necessary, she was tugging herself closer and closer until all the space between us vanished.

Our hungry kiss wasn’t pretty or well-choreographed. It was a clash of teeth and tongues, a frenzy of need and clawing desire. I could taste the pent-up emotions on her lips and feel the unburdening in every hurried touch of her fingers.

“Fuck me,” she muttered against my lips, not breaking our kiss. “I need you, Devon.”

There was a split second in which I considered that it may not be a good idea. Jason was gone, and so was everyone else, but that didn’t mean we should take advantage of it.

My brain was trying to reason why we shouldn’t, as my cock quickly shot to attention behind my jeans and was cataloging every reason why we should. Like she already knew my internal battle and how I was wavering, Blakely reared back just enough that she could look up at me.

There was only confidence in her expression, and her tone was serious when she confessed, “If you don’t get your cock inside me right now, I might scream.” That, combined with her nails digging into my jeans as she palmed my cock, was more than enough to snap my restraint.

I’d already clocked the one table still standing in the middle of the room, so I knew exactly what I was doing as I lifted her into my arms and set her ass on top of it. Wasting no time, I pushed up her skirt until it was gathered around her waist, and I could see the black lace panties hidden underneath. The same ones she’d teasingly strutted around in for several minutes earlier that evening while I was trying to get us out of the house on time. When she knew I couldn’t do what I really wanted to do.

She panted and lifted her hips to tug her skirt even higher. Running my thumb over the center of her panties, I groaned at the wetness already dampening the fabric. “You are quite literally the culmination of all my fantasies. The fact that I’m not inside you twenty-four-seven, whether it be my tongue, my fingers, or my cock, is a fucking feat.”

While I spoke, I pushed her damp panties to the side and repeated the same motion, running my thumb up and down her center without the pesky fabric in the way. She gasped when my warm finger met her heated flesh.

“Already so wet for me,” I said, and she nodded. I looked down and watched my thumb tease her needy clit, enjoying theway her back bowed and she inched closer. “Gorgeous girl with the most gorgeous cunt.”

She growled, and my eyes shot to hers. She lurched forward and wrapped a hand around my neck while the other dove between us and began working my belt. Our mouths resumed that hungry kiss, our lips colliding brutally.

“More,” she begged.

Overcome by the feeling of her pussy and before I had time to register anything more, her hands were reaching into my briefs and pushing them down to free my cock.

I hissed when her hand wrapped around me, already on the verge of exploding just with the anticipation of being inside her and the heat of her palm. She twisted her hand, pumping hard several times before I growled just as she had and circled my hand around her wrist.

I lifted her arm to my neck, where her other hand had a tight hold of my hair. Her nails dug into my scalp as I leaned forward. She was wet, but still, I poised above her pussy and spit directly onto it. It slipped down around the crown of my cock, and I held her panties to the side as I spread it around her opening.

“Oh, fuck,” she moaned, but her words broke off when I sheathed myself inside her in one quick, hard thrust. I crowded her over the table, placing one palm next to her hip and gripping her upper thigh with the other.

There was nothing graceful or gentle about it. My jeans still around my hips and her skirt indecently rucked up, we were the image of sudden, demanding desire. Desire that couldn’t be ignored and wouldn’t dissipate until it was finally satisfied.

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