Page 131 of A Little Broken

Trailing his mouth along the underside of my jaw, he murmurs, “Anything else?”

“Your face isn’t half bad, either.”

He nips at my throat. “And?”

“Your cock is top tier, too.”

Sucking my skin into his mouth, he drags his tongue along the small patch of flesh. Teasing. Tasting. Warning.

“And my shining personality?” he prods.

I lift a shoulder. “Meh.”

With a low laugh, he cages me in on both sides, staring down at me as the moon and softening firelight outline him. “Meh?”

“Meh,” I repeat.

When he starts to pull away, I cling to his shoulders. “Okay! Okay! Your personality is a solid B+.”

He rolls to one side, smacking my ass, surprising the shit out of me.

With a yelp, I squeal, “Hey!”

Another bruising kiss silences me as Paxton slides his hands beneath the hem of my shirt, massaging my breast as his tongue teases the seam of my lips. I’ve missed this. This feeling. Being cared for. Appreciated. Worshipped. And not by just anyone. Let’s be real. No one’s ever cared about me. Not like this. Fucked, sure. But appreciated? Worshipped? It’s different. He’s different. Even the first night we met, he was different, and even though a not-so-small part of me could feel it, I was too petrified to label him as anything but a rockstar, and it might be one of the biggest mistakes of my life.

Cupping my breast, Paxton kneads me softly until my nipple pebbles against his palm. The feeling shoots straight to my core, and he rips his mouth from mine, trailing kisses along my throat. His head disappears beneath my shirt, and he sucks my nipple into his mouth.

Ooookay, yes. Yes, that will do just fine.

I writhe beneath him, the heat of his tongue too much, yet not enough. Not even close. My back arches, and I hold him to me, lifting my hips in search of friction.

“We’re wearing too many clothes,” I announce.

“Is that an invitation?”

“Lose the pants or watch me play with myself,” I dare him. My hands start their descent before he even has a chance to make a decision. The sound of my zipper mingles with the crackle of the fire as he drags my jeans down my legs, exposing every inch of me. His eyes glow with interest, and his lips part with need. It’s a heady combination. I force myself to stay still when I feel like I’m burning up from the outside in. The same familiar zip follows, and he pulls his erection out, pumping it slowly in his fist as I lay beneath him. And boy, is it a sight to behold. I zero in on the veins along the back of his hand, and the sight turns me on even more. Shit, I could watch him all day. Tugging and rubbing and turning me into a wet mess. Unable to stand it, I let my knees fall apart and spread my folds, slowly circling my clit while biting my bottom lip. I could come like this. Just like this. With his eyes on me and his cock in his hand.

“Fuck, you have no idea how sexy you look like this,” he growls, staring as I play with myself.

My lips curve up. “I think I have an idea.”

His attention flicks from my fingers to my eyes. “So cocky.”

“I believe you’re the one who’s cocky,” I point out. “Pun intended.” He chuckles. “And I’m the one who’s empty,” I continue. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

A low rumble claws its way up his throat as he reaches for his jeans, retrieving a condom from the back pocket. Placing the thin foil between his teeth, he rips the package open and slides it on before grabbing my thigh and dragging me closer to him as he stays on his knees. Tugging me into him, my lower back and ass completely off the ground, he lines himself up with my entrance, the head teasing my opening as he holds me in place.

This is it. The last moment I could say no. The last chance I have to shove him back in the box with all my other one-night-stands. But I don’t want to. I want more than one night. I want a chance. A chance to prove I can do this. I can connect with someone without feeling guilty or like I’m cheating on a ghost. I can enjoy this. This moment, this connection, this feeling.

With his fingers digging into my thighs, Pax waits, a question in his espresso gaze. I lower my head in the smallest of nods. Satisfied, his hold tightens, and his attention drops to where our bodies connect as he thrusts into me.

Watching the need in his eyes. The obsession. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

He pulls out, leaving me with just the head before pushing in again, his movements torturously slow and deliberate.

“Touch your clit,” he orders.

I slip my hand between my thighs, feeling him enter me as I circle my clit. It feels incredible. I feel incredible. He feels incredible. Every inch of him. My body stretches around him, accommodating his size as he picks up his pace, hitting the little bundle of nerves inside of me, making me feel like I’m seconds from exploding. Sweat clings to my skin, leaving me hot and tingly.

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