Page 7 of Wicked S.O.B.

One small hand leaves my shoulder to frame my jaw. “I know.”

“I’m an asshole for treating you like this.”

Her hand trembles against my cheek. “Have mercy on me, then. Let me come.”

I lower myself onto my elbows, still moving within her. Still lost in the mindless intoxication of her. “I will, baby. I promise. First I need to kiss you. Will you let me?”

Another wash of tears floods her eyes. Her nostrils quaver as she inhales. “Yes. Of course.”

The strength of her power and compassion knocks down another layer of my anger. My forehead drops to hers. “I’m sorry.”

Both hands frame my face. “Kiss me.”

I let go of every last fucking thing and take her mouth with mine. She half sighs, half groans as our tongues meet in a benediction only we have the power to afford ourselves. My cock thickens inside her as the last anchor holding me to reality snaps. The backs of my eyes prickle as I selfishly lose myself in everything that she is.

Her orgasm pulls at me, milks me with hard, addictive tugs I’m helpless to resist. Our gazes connect as she begins to jerk through her bliss. I increase the tempo of my thrusts, wanting to make it last longer for her. But kissing and fucking her at the same time—a pleasure I denied myself when we first met, back when I was Q and she was Lucky, back when we were supposed to just be two strangers using one another—has become an exhilarating combination that seals my fate the moment it begins.

Kissing Elyse is its own special trip to ecstasy.

A white-hot bolt of lightning shoots up my spine. My balls draw up and tighten, and I plead for one last desperate thrust before I’m roaring with the pleasure-pain of our fucking. I flood her cunt with every last drop of me. She takes it and begs for more with sexy whimpers and demanding hands.

I kiss her down from a mind-bending pinnacle and then collapse into her arms when our bodies still.

We lie like that for fuck knows how long. The ambient temperature in the room ensures our cooling bodies don’t get cold. At some point, we fall asleep, or maybe we just drift mindlessly.

When I open my eyes again, I’m beneath her, and she’s sprawled on top of me. I’m still inside her, and her beautiful weight is glorious and solid and present enough to keep me breathing. Her eyes are shut but I know she’s awake because her hand is caressing the skin above where my heart should be.

I wrap her tighter in my arms, and my gaze leaves her long enough to dart around the room. It all comes rushing back. My loss of control.

“I can’t function when you’re gone. Don’t leave me again.”

Her hand freezes. She says nothing. I’m terrified.

“Say it, Elyse. Say you won’t leave me again,” I press.

“I can say it, but I know you won’t believe me.”

“Say it anyway.”

Her lips firm for a moment before she lifts wide hazel eyes to mine. “No. Do you know how it makes me feel to know the words I say to you don’t mean anything? That it’s only a temporary salve that helps you for just a minute before you go back to doubting yourself? Doubting us?” Her voice is low and heavy with hurt. Hurt I put there.

I turn us to the side, still without dislodging myself from her, so I can see her better. What I see shames me into resting my head between her breasts. She wraps her arms around me, and I breathe her in. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes, you do. You just don’t want to do it.”

Residual anger threatens to raise its head, but I’m spent. “I’m done listening to that quack.”

She stays silent for a long while and then sighs. “Okay.”

That gets my attention. Because it sounds uncannily like acceptance. Like surrender. I raise my head. “Okay?”

“What do you want me say, Quinn? You fight me on everything.”

I flex my hips, my hardening cock welcoming the heady viscosity of her pussy walls. I love the way her pussy feels when she’s crammed full of my cum. “Not everything.”

Her pupils dilate as she loses herself in pleasure for a moment. But even the sexy smile she gives me is tinged with sadness. “No. Not everything.”

Where the depth of my hopeless rage terrified me before, now it’s her sad serenity that’s making my withered soul scream in terror.

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