Page 41 of Barbed Wire Hearts

“No,” I whisper.

“They do. And at night, instead of looking at each other like normal sunflowers,” he says, his shoulders tense. “They look at the ground. At the radiation there. You’re the sunflower, princess,” he whispers. “And I’m the toxic waste.”

My breathe stutters and I find myself reaching up to cup his face. “Or maybe you’re just the sunshine,” I whisper. “Either way, I see you.”

He jerks back like I physically hit him, his eyes taking in my expression, the way I’m looking up at him. He pulls away and turns his back to me, his shoulders heaving. I go to take a step toward him, to comfort him or to make sure he’s okay, I’m not sure, but I don’t get the chance. Before I can reach out for him, he spins and yanks me against him so hard it almost hurts.

“I’m not strong enough to resist you,” he growls.

“Then don’t,” I argue.

He shakes his head. “You’re going to regret that, Kate, but that’ll be your burden to carry.” And then he slams his lips against mine in a brutal, desperate kiss.

Wiley is a hurricane. Dakota is the sea. But Levi? He’s a forest fire. When he kisses me, I grow hot with his inferno. There’s no build up to it. There’s no gentle coaxing of lips. One moment, I’m fine, and the next I’m being charred.

I feel small in his hands as he grinds me against him, as his large hands cup my ass and drag me closer. We’re so close, there’s no way to know where one begins and the other ends. We breathe each other’s air. And when his hand brutally grips my hair and jerks my head back, I gasp in pain, but my hands don’t stop gripping his chest. I don’t stop grinding my pelvis against the zipper of his wet jeans.

With our clothing sticking to us like it is, it proves difficult to remove them completely. I reach for Levi’s shirt where it tucks into his pants and yank it out, but I have a hard time getting the shirt off him once I get the snaps undone so I leave it hanging around him, his chest and abs on display. I stroke my fingers through the light smattering of hair across his chest, groaning as he leans down to bite at my neck. There’s no way we’re going to be able to get these jeans off. I know that. He knows that. But neither one of us seems to care.

He reaches between us and jerks my shirt out of my jeans. Unlike me, he doesn’t waste time trying to unbutton every button. Instead, he rips my shirt open, sending the buttons flying. I gasp, reaching up to feel the damage, but he bends me backwards over one of his forearms and then uses his other arms to push back on the front of my neck, until I’m barely standing upright, and only remaining so because of his hold.

“A fucking sunflower,” he groans as he leans down and shoves my bra up with his face. His beard scratches against my skin, driving me insane as I bend to his mercy. “It pisses me off how much I want you.”

“Show me,” I pant, my chest heaving.

His eyes meet mine. “Show you what?”

“How much it pisses you off,” I answer, not looking away. “I’m not scared of whatever demons you think you carry, Levi.”

Fire ignites in his eyes. “No?” He leans closer, his breath fanning across my lips. “Not even when I fuck you in the hay like a two-dollar whore?” He nips at my chin. “Not even when I continue to fuck you as you beg me to stop?”

I stop breathing. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

The pull of Levi’s lips isn’t a smile so much as it’s a challenge. I’ve always been stubborn. I’ve always spoken before I’ve really thought things through. But here, in this lean-to out in the middle of a pasture, there are no rules. There’re no societal expectations. There’s nothing saying how I should act or who I should be afraid of. I’d be lying if I said I don’t want Levi with a vengeance. The way he’s looking at me, like he both wants to eat me alive and destroy me at the same time, I want whatever he can give.

He lets me go so suddenly, I nearly fall, only saving myself when I grab onto the wood against the wall.

“What—” I start to ask, but I’m distracted by the sight of Levi jerking his own shirt off completely. He reveals all that he is, including the scars. I’ve never seen the scars before. A large one cuts through his stomach, splitting him from his hip to the base of his ribs. It’s puckered as if the tear was jagged rather than smooth. I’m about to ask, to reach out and touch, but Levi reaches for the belt buckle at his waist and my mouth dries up.

He watches me as he slowly unbuckles his belt, but he doesn’t pull it away. Once open, he reaches for the button of his jeans and the large hard on I can see pressing against his zipper. When he frees his cock, I stare with wide eyes.

I’d thought Wiley was big, but Levi is fucking massive. He’s a large man, so I shouldn’t be shocked, but his size definitely translates to his cock as well. Long enough to make me nervous and thick enough to know I’ll need some build up, Levi is impressive. I lick my lips, hungry for him. He doesn’t shove his jeans off, knowing full well he won’t be able to with how wet he is. Instead, he peels them away from his hips and leaves them resting there.

With a quickness I don’t expect, Levi lashes out, his hand fisting in my hair to drag me closer. I stumble, tripping over my own feet as he shoves down and forces me to my knees before him.

“This would be better if you were wearing mascara,” he groans. “I wanna see you gagging on my cock, your eyes watering, makeup running down your face as you take me deep.”

His hand doesn’t release my hair as he pushes me forward until my lips touch the tip of him. He rubs it there, teasing, looking down at me as if I’m something to both be treasured and used. He’s so tall, I can’t just sit back on my heels. I have to remain upright. My hands reach out to grip his thighs, knowing where this is going.

“Open,” he orders and my lips pop open without hesitation.

He doesn’t praise me for following his orders. My reward is him shoving his cock past my lips so deep my back immediately bows with my gagging. He presses deeper, groaning as my fingers dig into his thighs hard enough to leave marks. My eyes water immediately. Only when I start frantically slapping at him does he pull me back. I take in a great gulp of air, trying to prepare myself before he jerks me back down on his cock. He starts to brutally fuck my face, his cock hitting the back of my throat and then going deeper. There’s no checking to make sure I’m okay.

“Your throat feels so fucking good,” he grunts. “I could fucking paint the back of it a hundred times and still want more.”

Tears run down my face now and I fucking love it. Despite this brutality, despite how rough he is, my pussy is so wet, I’m leaking into my jeans. He uses my throat like his own personal toy, and I’m desperate for more. All the while, his hand stays roughly gripping my hair to the point of pain as he uses it for leverage to fuck my throat faster. When he groans and his cock jumps in my mouth, disappointment fills me for a moment before he jerks out and moans. He grips his cock hard, hissing between his teeth, as some of his warmth coats my tongue. I swallow it before moving to lick the tip again, but his hand in my hair jerks me back.

I grin. “That wasn’t so bad,” I tease.

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