Page 21 of Marked By Blaze

“Don’t,” he growls against my skin, nipping at the sensitive spot behind my ear. His breath sends a storm of goosebumps running over my skin as he speaks. “Don’t touch me unless you want this to end in seconds, angel.”

“It’s goddess,” I try for humor, despite the storm of heat rolling through my system.

“Goddess,” he repeats, his mouth dropping to my neck and sucking a bruise on my skin. A tremble runs through my body as his hand tugs at the gown, pulling it down as he covers the my exposed skin with kisses. “You have the strength of one, that’s for sure. No one can bring me to my knees faster than you.”

My eyes snap open at his words, but they don’t stay that way as his lips close around my nipple, sucking the bud through my bra. “Oh God!”

“I can’t think straight around you. I can’t stay away,” he grinds out, almost like an accusation as he tugs down the rest of the dress. It slithers down my body before falling to the floor, leaving me only in my bra and panties. “I’ve been replaying our time together over and over in my head. I thought about burying my face between these luscious thighs and licking your hot pussy until you were crying out for me.” Blaze backs me to the couch, and I fall back. He follows me down, pinning me to the cushions. My lips part on a moan as he rolls his hips over mine, his erection brushing my pulsing sex and making the fire inside me burn brighter. “I’m not letting you go this time, Ingrid.”

“I don’t want you to,” I say, my heart opening up for this man who sends butterflies fluttering through my stomach everytime I think of him. Blaze is the sexiest man I have ever seen. But he’s not just good looking. He is gentle and takes care of me. He’s protective, and maybe it should matter that he’s associated with a dangerous motorcycle club, but that doesn’t seem relevant when it’s just us two.

He does more than send butterflies fluttering through me. Sometimes, especially when he’s close, it feels like a swarm of bees. I find that I like the feeling, and I’m done fighting it.

He says he wants me—flaws and all—and I believe him.

He grasps my chin, and I watch with bated breath as he leans down and brushes a kiss over my birthmark. His lips linger, and my eyes flutter to a close as I revel in the feelings swirling inside of me. “I love you,” Blaze says thickly, but he barely gives me a moment to react to his words before his mouth locks with mine. I moan as his tongue grazes mine, heat spreading through my tummy, and I find myself rolling my hips against his. Blaze pulls back to look at me, and there is heat in those dark eyes. “I want you to understand that I am not going anywhere. In all of my thirty-two years, I’ve never wanted another woman as much as I want you. Never had murderous intent at the thought of someone else so much as looking at my woman.” I bring my hand to his bristled jaw, my heart racing with every word. “You are mine, Ingrid. I will kill anyone who fucking touches you.”

Coming from someone else, I would find such possessiveness unsettling and surprising, but I see it in his eyes. He means every single word. A man jealous because of…me?

“There’s no one,” I croak, my eyes swimming with affection. “There’s never been anyone else, and there will never be.”

“Damn right,” he says, leaning in, and then we’re kissing again. He fucks my mouth with his tongue, his groans mixing with my own fevered cries. He rolls his erection over my sex, his hand fondling my tits over the bra before going lower. “You feel so fucking good, angel. Want you.” I gasp when he slides his hand between my thighs, rubbing his middle finger over my panties, cursing under his breath when he finds them damp with my arousal. I’m so turned on; my nipples are so hard, they hurt, and my sex pulses wildly with need only this man can sate.

“Want you,” I echo desperately, running my fingers over his robust chest and up his shoulders. He hisses out a sharp breath, and I catch a pained expression cross his face before it disappears. I glance at his shoulder, remembering at the same time Kyle talking about Blaze being sent off to deal with club business.

Oh God, did he get hurt?

I bite back a moan when Blaze pushes his hardness against my thigh before he pulls my panties aside and slides his finger between my folds. “So goddamned wet,” he growls.

“Wait… Oh!” I cry out when his thick digit grazes that sensitive bud of nerves between my legs. “Blaze—”

“Let me take care of you, angel.”

I close my hand tightly around his before he can wipe out the few brain cells I have left, pausing his movements. “I want to take care of you first,” I say firmly, gently touching his shoulder.

“It’s nothing.”

“I don’t think so.”

Those dark eyes narrow on mine, but they don’t scare me. “It can wait—”

“You want to make me feel good, but I won’t knowing your shoulder’s hurting.” I shake my head, set on using his words against him. “Let me take a look first. I have a First Aid kit in my bathroom. W-we have all night to…do the other stuff.” I nudge him back, blushing wildly as he pulls his hand from between my open thighs. I watch with heated embarrassment as he brings the single wet digit between his lips.

I awkwardly climb off the couch and turn toward the bedroom, shrieking loudly when he slaps my ass. “Ten minutes. You have ten minutes, then you’re mine.”

Chapter Nine

Blaze

“Sit here.”

I've been in this room a dozen times before, but I make no indication of it as I sit on the queen-size bed. The room is small with pastel walls and a bed adorned with white linens that smell faintly of lavender and a couple of colorful throw pillows sitting at the headboard.

My eyes shift to the small bookshelf filled with novels, and I wonder if she's noticed that I fixed the squeaking bottom drawer. There's always something that needs fixing in her home, but it was something to do while I waited for her to come around to the idea that my interest in her is genuine. She won't have to stay here much longer anyway. I’m buying a house and moving her in the first chance I get. Ingrid is more than enough motivation for me to finally move out of my apartment in the clubhouse.

All thoughts scramble when Ingrid steps between my thighs in nothing but her panties and bra. My heart starts jackhammering in my chest as I look up, and fuck, she's doing that thing that never fails to drive me crazy—worrying her bottom lips as she tracks her eyes over my chest and shoulders.

Christ, she's the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Those sky blue and earthy brown irises are so fucking gorgeous. How the fuck was anyone ever able to convince her that she isanything short of perfect? Every inch of this woman is fucking gorgeous, and I want her underneath me this second.

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