Page 169 of A Little Broken

My cock strains between us as she sucks on my tongue, well-aware of how close I am to stripping her down and marking every inch of her if it’ll convince her to stay. To admit she loves me, too, even if it’s scary. Slowly, my hands trail down her cheeks, then lower. I grab her throat to keep her in place, refusing to let her walk away when I know there’s a tiny voice inside her head begging her to do exactly that. When my other hand grazes the outside of her breast, I palm her fully, savoring the feel of her pebbled nipple against my palm. She gasps as I take my feel, massaging her through the thin fabric of her top. My knuckles are bloodied and bruised, and the kiss makes my busted lip throb in discomfort, but I can’t find it in me to care. Not about anything but the girl in front of me.

“Please,” she whispers. “Please. I need you.”

I kiss her harder, swallowing her plea while undoing the top button of her jeans and shoving them down her body and onto the floor. When she realizes I have every intention of giving her exactly what she wants, she blindly reaches for my pants and tugs them off me. The head of my erection bobs against her stomach, pulling a soft smile from Tatum’s lips. And I like it. That she knows what she does to me. That she likes what she does to me. The reminder proves exactly how many cards she holds when it comes to our relationship, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Slowly, she strokes my length from base to tip, and my balls tighten with need.

“Fuck, Birthday Girl,” I growl.

Gathering my precum against her palm, she squeezes me, well-aware of exactly what she’s doing and how close I am to the edge, despite not even being inside her. Grabbing her wrist, I shove her hand above her head, adding her second until she’s helpless and squirming. Without a word, I reach for her thigh,and she jumps, trusting I'll catch her. Once her legs are wrapped around my waist, I press her spine to the door again.

“Keep your hands up,” I order.

She nods, the blindfold still in place.

With both hands on her hips, I pull back slightly until the tip of my cock finds her wet slit. Then, I push inside her tight little body, one inch at a time, as her mouth opens on a moan. Once I’m fully seated, I press my forehead to hers, sharing her air while giving her a minute to adjust to the intrusion.

“I love you, Birthday Girl,” I growl. “I love your tenacity. Your grit. I love your body. Your soul.”

“If you’re trying to make me come with your words alone, you’re pretty good at it,” she whispers. “Now, if I could just convince you to keep moving, that’d be great.”

I smile and nip at her mouth. “I love your sass, too. Even when you’re a pain in the ass. And I don’t want you to say it back. Not until you’re ready. But I need you to know I love you. I’ll always love you. From now to forever.” Burrowing my head in the crook of her neck, I pull out, then push in again, desperate to feel her let me in physically after the mind-fuck we just endured. Her wet heat surrounds me and my eyes roll back in my head. She feels so good. Too fucking good. “Tatum, a condom,” I groan. “Shit?—”

“I have an IUD.” Her hands find my shoulders. “Don’t you dare stop.” I thrust into her again, this time even harder, and she whimpers. “Keep going. Please keep going.”

So, I do. As her nipples rub against my chest, my hips piston back and forth, driving us both toward oblivion. Her fingernails claw against my bare shoulders and her body shakes with every ounce of friction until I’m convinced I could do this forever. Maybe not last, she feels too fucking good, but being buried inside her like this? Feel her like this? Taste her like this? Touchher like this? It makes all the shit I’ve been through worth it. Everything. Every single thing. Because it led me to her.

Sweat breaks out along my skin as I suck on her neck, my balls aching with need. “Tell me you’re close,” I order.

“I’m close. I’m really close. I’m—shit.” The word breaks into a whimper as her body squeezes around me, and I spill inside of her, determined to fall over the edge right along with her. Muscles tightening, tingles spreading, cock jerking. I fall apart and ride the high, already craving the next time I can be inside her so we can do this all over again. As she drops her head back toward the ceiling, I trail kisses along her exposed throat, paying special attention to the tiny bruise I gifted her with. But fuck, if it isn’t hot.

“Can I take off my blindfold now?” she whispers.

With a smirk, I reach up and tug the scrap of cloth off, dropping it to the ground. She blinks in an attempt to let her eyes adjust as I cup her cheek and force her to look at me.

When our gazes connect, I repeat, “I love you. Just so we’re clear.”

Her mouth lifts into the smallest of smiles. “I believe you.” When it falls, she adds, “And that’s why this is so scary.”

48

PAXTON

The wind is cool against my bare chest as I drive Tatum home. Call me a sucker, but I didn’t think to pack a second shirt on the off-chance I ripped my first one apart. Even so, I’m grateful for it. The contrast of cool air to my heated skin and my heavy thoughts as Tatum clings to me on the back of my bike. The feel of her pressed against me is the only thing keeping me from spiraling. From tossing her over my shoulder and dragging her back to my place without giving a shit about her boundaries or her needs.

Maybe that’s the problem. Because I do care. Even if it kills me. Even if my boundaries and needs don’t align with hers. Like right now. She’ll always come first. Always.

We take the long way home, but even then, there’s only so much procrastinating I can do before I reach Tatum’s street. After we pull up to the curb, I cut the engine, climbing off my bike and slipping off my helmet. Reaching for Tate, I undo the strap beneath her chin, then set her helmet on the grass as she sits motionless. Numb. Staring into the distance. A shell of a person. Seems her afterglow has worn off since we left, and now she’s so lost in her head, she can’t even look at me. I hate that I’m the one to do this to her. To push her into this state, even if it’sirrational on her part and accidental on mine. It doesn’t matter, and sure as shit doesn’t dissipate the fog she’s lost in.

“Hey,” I murmur.

Her eyes cut to mine and she forces a smile. “Hey.”

I want to ask if she’s all right, but I’m not stupid. Of course, she isn’t all right. She’s still shaken. Scared. Of her feelings for me and what they could mean if she decides to accept them instead of pushing me away.

Please don’t push me away.

Threading my fingers through her hair, I kiss her forehead and breathe in her scent, letting the sharp citrus smell ground me. “We’re gonna be okay.”

Her head bobs in a jerky, mechanical nod. “I should go inside.”

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