Page 54 of Broken

A growl rolls in my throat. “You’ve got me.”

She sinks onto my cock, allowing me to fill her tight pussy inch by exquisite inch. I grab onto her hips, sinking my fingersinto her flesh. She throws her head back and moans while her silky heat grips me tight. I swear I’m going to lose myself in this woman.

I hiss out a breath. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“You feel so good inside me, Nate. I…” She sucks in a ragged breath. “Nobody has ever made me feel like this.”

I bite down on the soft skin of her neck. “And nobody ever will, corazón. You’re mine.” I pull her down and thrust my hips at the same time, bottoming out inside her and making her cry out a strangled moan. “I’m going to fill your greedy cunt with my cum and then I’m going to eat it out of you.”

“Holy shit!” Her inner walls ripple around me, milking my cock with hungry squeezes.

I roll her over me, rubbing her clit against my skin until she’s mewling like my feral little spitfire. Her pussy grips my cock with a series of tight squeezes that has heat searing in my balls and fire burning my thighs. I hold her still and drive into her, causing water to splash out of the tub in waves.

My climax bursts out of me, and I sink my teeth into her skin as I pump every drop of my release into her wet heat. When she’s teetering on the precipice, I pull her off me and set her on the edge of the tub, spreading her legs so I can feast on her dripping center. The taste of our release coats my tongue, making my heart pound in my chest. “Fuck. We taste so good, corazón.”

“Nate,” she whimpers, threading her fingers in my hair and riding my face. I flick her swollen clit with my tongue, and she comes apart for me, shaking so hard I have to work to hold her in place.

Lying back in the tub, I pull her to straddle me again and slide my tongue into her mouth, letting her taste how good we are together.

“I love dinner with your family.”She lets out a contented sigh. “Can we do this more often?”

I press a soft kiss on her head while tracing my fingertips up and down her spine. She lies on top of me, naked and thoroughly fucked for the second time tonight. “We’ll do it as often as we can, corazón.”

She hums and presses her cheek into my chest.

“Now tell me what the deal is between you and your brother.”

She tenses in my arms, but I only hold her tighter. “What do you mean?”

“You’re always on edge around him. You bristle when he comes near you. Do I need to kill him?”

She pokes me in the ribs. “No!”

I give her another tender kiss. “So tell me.”

She wriggles. “He’s just not a nice guy.”

“Yeah, I’m going to need more than that, Spitfire.”

She lifts her head and stares into my eyes. “You really want to know?”

I arch an eyebrow at her. “You think I would’ve endured that awful movie about cheerleaders if I didn’t want to talk to you after?”

She presses her lips together like she’s trying not to laugh and then rests her head back on my chest. “He was always a bit of an asshole, but I never saw him much when I was a kid. He was always out with his friends. Then after Dad was killed—” She sucks in a shaky breath. “He said it was my fault. No, he convinced me it was my fault.”

Anger vibrates through my entire body. “He did what?”

She shifts, and I allow her to roll onto her side and turn to face her. “We were all supposed to be at the beach that weekend, but my best friend Hayley was having a pool party for her thirteenth birthday. I begged and pleaded to stay home so I could go, but my mom said no. I threw an almighty tantrum.” A tear leaks from the corner of her eye. “And Dad said I didn’t deserve to go to the beach or the party, so we both stayed home. But the next day, Dad let me go to the party. I realized he scolded me for show and had always been on my side about the party thing. I swear he was always so understanding of teenage girl drama.” A sad smile flickers over her face. “But if we had been at the beach like we were supposed to be, he never would have been home when those men tried to rob us. He’d still be alive.”

I wipe the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs and cradle her face in my hands. “Jesus, Mel. You must know that doesn’t make it your fault.”

She sniffs. “But if I hadn’t acted like a spoiled brat—”

Jesus. I could murder that prick with my bare hands for making her carry this guilt around all these years. “You were thirteen years old. Acting out is what you’re supposed to do.”

“I know that, but… I don’t know, Bryce made me believe it, you know? He’s used it against me my whole life. And the truth is if it wasn’t for me… If we’d all gone along with Bryce’s plan to go to the beach that weekend, my dad wouldn’t be dead.”

A spark of suspicion ignites. “It was his idea to go?”

---