Page 65 of Centering Kaos

“Don’t you dare hide yourself from me,” I said. “If I’m yours, then you’re mine, and I like to play with my toys. Last time we did this, it was all fast and furious like we were a couple of teenagers afraid of getting caught. This time, I want to worship your body like it deserves. Lie back and try to relax.”

Surprisingly, she did as she was told, watching me as I stripped out of my clothes and settled myself between her legs at her feet. Grabbing her right leg in both of my hands, I kissed the inside of her ankle. With her hooded eyes fixed on me, she continued to watch as I worked my way up her calf, kissing every inch of her soft, pale skin. I found a ticklish spot behind her knee, and a spot on her inner thigh that made her break out in goosebumps. Her breathing took on an erratic edge as my lips approached her honeypot. I skimmed over the sensitive folds and dropped back down to repeat the process with her left leg. By the time I spread her lower lips and blew on her clit, she was panting and writhing beneath me.

“You like that?” I asked.

“God, yes.”

She hadn’t felt anything yet. “Good.” I licked her from entrance to clit.

She about jumped off the bed. “Oh, oh, oh!”

Had that son-of-a-bitch never gone down on her before? I wanted to be pissed about his neglect, but honestly, I felt relieved. This could be something only we shared. I let the stubble of my jaw slide against her inner thigh, teasing. “Want me to do that again?”

“Yes.” Her answer sounded a lot like a prayer. She was so needy and perfect.

“You sure?”

“Less talking. More—”

I licked her again.

“God, yes. More of that.”

I got down to business, sucking, flicking, and swirling my tongue around her clit until she was fisting the sheets and speaking in tongues. I slid two fingers into her heat and took her over the edge. She tasted so damn sweet I made sure to lap up every bit of her honey before working my way north. I hadn’t gotten nearly enough time with her incredible breasts, and they called to me, pleading for my attention. I showered them in kisses and nips while Tina ran her hand over my head and neck, and her gentle touch was surprisingly erotic. As I sucked one of her nipples into my mouth, she tightened her grip on my hair.

I liked that. I liked it a whole fucking lot.

I paid homage to her breasts until she was fully worked up again, and then I headed north, kissing my way up her breastbone to her neck. Covering that delicate spot behind her ear, licking her jaw line, letting her taste herself on my lips.

The heat between her legs called to my cock, promising a warm, safe haven. As I lined myself up at her entrance and slipped inside, it didn’t disappoint. Wrapped in her silky-smooth heat, I hissed out a curse and started moving. She groaned against my lips.

“You feel heavenly, angel.” I was trying to keep my pace slow, but my god, she was so damn tight. Gritting my teeth against the intense torture, I ground my hips against her and drove in deeper.

Holy shit, she felt even better when I was sober.

By the grace of God, I managed not to come until she did, but once she squeezed the life out of my cock and cried out my name, I was done for. Gripping her hips, I thrust myself deep, emptying everything I had inside of her. Collapsing, I tucked her against my side and pulled the blanket up to cover us.

“I love you, angel.”

I could feel her smile against my chest. “I love you, too, Darius.”

Feeling happier and more content than any fool had a right to, I drifted off to sleep.

Epilogue

Tina

KAOS WAS GETTING patched in. I didn’t fully understand what that meant, but gathered it was an important step in his motorcycle club. He wanted me and Dylan there to celebrate with him. I was still kind of sketched out about the whole motorcycle club thing, but I trusted him. Besides, after all he’d done for us, supporting his promotion was the least we could do.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worn makeup, but I was nervous and wanted to look my best. I concealed, powdered, lined my eyes, and then started swiping mascara onto my lashes. At the first swipe, the brush slipped out of my hand, bounced off the countertop and plopped right into the toilet.

Shocked, I took in the damage. Black streaks ran across the pale countertop, slashed the toilet seat, and marked up the bowl. Not to mention that my brand-new tube of mascara had been sacrificed to the potty gods. Disgusted with this turn of events, I put on a rubber glove, fished out the mascara, and tossed it into the trash.

Since only half of the lashes on one of my eyes had been coated, I used a makeup wipe to carefully remove my mascara. Peering into the mirror, I cursed my wimpy, insignificant lashes. It was Friday night, almost a month had passed since Matt’s attack, and my bruises were long since gone. In fact, the whole ordeal was behind me. Between the video evidence that Morse had provided and Matt’s coworkers that Link and Havoc had somehow persuaded to narc, the court had convicted Matt of numerous charges including attempted murder in the first degree, child endangerment, aggravated assault, and discharging a firearm in a public place. It would be at least thirty years before he even became eligible for parole.

My life was seriously looking up… despite the whole toilet mascara incident.

Cleaning up the rest of my mess, I gave myself one more once-over in the mirror and decided I looked presentable. Pushing away from the counter, I headed downstairs. It was time to go.

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