Page 51 of The Dark Obsession

“You don’t sound too convinced. I should make sure you really mean it.”

Before I can stop him, his mouth is back on my skin, biting my neck.

There’s nothing soft about his touch anymore as he marks every piece of exposed flesh, leaving a burning trail in his wake.

Too lost in the sensations taking over my body, I whine at the loss when he suddenly pulls back, tugging his shirt over his head.

I’ll never get enough of the sight of his bare, inked torso.

My eyes landing on the bulge straining painfully against the fabric of his cargos, begging to be released, and I swallow hard.

With a loud tear, Tyson rips my tank top straight down the middle, ripping the flimsy fabric off my body.

Cold air hits my naked skin, goosebumps erupting all over as his eyes roam my bare chest, lingering at my heaving breasts. Without a bra, he can see my nipples harden fully under his dark gaze.

Feeling self-conscious under his intense scrutiny, I instinctively move to cover myself but he’s back on me, our chests pressed together, making me bite back a moan at feeling his bare skin sliding against mine.

“So fucking gorgeous, baby.” His lips return to my body, hungrily exploring every newly uncovered inch.

Latching onto my nipple, his tongue swirls around the peaked bud before he sucks hard. All the while his calloused hand palms my other breast, giving it the same mind-shattering attention.

A voice at the back of my head keeps screaming at me to stop this before there’s no going back, but I can’t.

I crave his touch too much.

Giving into the delicious assault, my hands start roaming his back, feeling the extensive, long scars along his warm skin.

Reeling back, Tyson sits on his heels with a strained look in his eyes that has my chest tightening.

He looks even more massive from below. A broken warrior of death.

I hope he sees the reassurance in my gaze as I push myself up, hesitantly running my hands over his abdomen. Showing him that I’d never judge his suffering as I savor the feeling of his solid muscles flexing beneath my fingertips.

He doesn’t push me away, seeming to relax more under my gentle touch.

I lower my head, placing open-mouthed kisses all over his chest and abs. Taking special care to trace his scars with my lips, I let him know that I want this as much as he does.

I really do.

Somewhere between his soft lips and piercing gaze, I stopped caring about right or wrong, letting myself feel.

Letting myself give up control.

Given how sheltered and introverted I grew up, I lack any experience with men at all. Though it’s not entirely my parent’s fault. If I really wanted to, I could have met someone in my mother’s snobby social circles or at least tried to sneak out.

The thing is, I never cared enough to get to know anyone on a deeper level and certainly didn’t trust them with my body.

Until now.

Barging into my life without any regard for the walls I’ve so carefully built, Tyson doesn’t give me the choice.

Every day he breaks down my boundaries, tearing through them like they’re nothing. And I gladly let him.

My train of thoughts get interrupted when I’m shoved back down as Tyson makes his way down my body like he can’t get enough.

Kiss after kiss, he leaves nothing untouched.

Stopping at my pelvis, his fingers slip under the waistband of my leggings. He begins pulling them off, the small whimper of protest I let out getting quickly silenced with a harsh bite to my hip, turning quickly into a moan.

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