Page 15 of Hold Us Close
“I hurt you,” he whispers. “All I do is hurt you.”
“Landen, don’t. Don’t get like this. It was an accident.” Reaching my hand up, I stroke the rough stubble on his jaw.
His pain breaks over both of us and I’m trembling from the sheer force of it. Placing his hands on either side of me on the counter, Landen braces me in his arms. Resting his forehead on mine, he sighs. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t stop hurting you. Literally. Everything I do hurts you in one way or another.”
My heart aches for him. He does hurt me, but not in the way he thinks. He hurts me by not seeing what I see when I look at him. Sliding both of my hands around the back of his neck, I whisper, “I’m tougher than you think, Landen.” I’ll never tire of the way his name feels on my lips. Even when they’re swollen and hurting.
“Tell me what to do, baby. Tell me how not to hurt you.” He stares down at me with pleading eyes. All I want is to make him understand. I love him, anger and all.
“Kiss it better,” I say, pouting my injured lip at him.
His brows dip in confusion. He’s the broken shell, and I’m the water. Need pulsates within me. The need to wash over him and ease his pain, smooth the jagged edges he uses to hurt us both.
The warmth of his breath teases against my skin. Stretching to kiss him, I’m startled when he grips my chin in his large hand. A small whimper escapes as I stare into his tortured gaze. For a split second, I’m terrified. Swallowed whole by the fear that he’s about to tell me he can’t do this—or just doesn’t want to. But then he sighs and places his lips within a centimeter of mine. “Do you remember our first kiss?”
I nod. How could I forget? It was only a few years ago, in California, in an alley outside a nightclub. It nearly crushed me, my need for him. “Of course I do,” I whisper, my lips barely brushing against his.
He peppers my jawline with whispered kisses, causing me to shiver. “It was the first time I ever controlled myself. Held back. Didn’t give in to the inferno burning me up inside.”
“Oh yeah?” I breathe, my chest rising against him as I do.
His nose traces the trail left by his hot mouth. “I’d never really been able to control myself before. Before you.”
My head lolls back as the muscles in my neck give out. “Glad I could help you with that.” I feel the curvature of his mouth as he smiles against my neck.
He groans as I pull the string that holds my robe closed. “Layla.”
“Sometimes losing control is a good thing, Landen. Sometimes I want you to. I know you’re careful with me, and I appreciate that. I do. But sometimes…”
His strong hands stroke up my inner thighs and I gasp as he spreads my knees apart. “Sometimes what, baby?”
“Sometimes I want you to lose control. Want you to take me however you want. Wherever. Whenever. As hard or fast or rough as you need to.”
“Jesus, Layla.” His eyes are wide as his lust and fear mingle in his stare.
“I’m serious. Let me be what you need, Landen. You’ve always kept me still when I needed you, when I was falling apart.” I brush my nose against his. “Let me be that for you Don’t run. Don’t break anything.” I lean up so that my mouth is next to his ear. “When all that aggression builds up, just…give it to me. However you need to.”
He bolts upright as if I’ve literally shocked him with a live wire. “Baby, I’d…I’d hurt you.” Shaking his head, he stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. He takes a step back as if I’ve become dangerous to him somehow.
Reaching out, I use the waistband of his jeans to pull him back to me. Licking my lips, I gather all my courage and look up at him. His gaze penetrates mine and I tug the hair at the nape of his neck. “You wouldn’t. I promise. Fuck me, Landen. Just let go. Give me your anger. I can take it. I want it.”
Turmoil burns in his expression. We’ve made love countless times. He’s always gentle. Always thorough and attentive. But I’ve watched him play soccer, watched him lose his temper. I know what’s inside of him. He needs more than slow, sensual love-making, and I want so badly to give him what he needs. Just like he’s always done for me.
If fucking me will siphon off some of his excess rage, I’m ready to take whatever he can give. Maybe I need it too.
Crashing my mouth to his, I ignore the scream of pain from my injured lip. When he tries to pull back, I yank his hair even harder. My heels dig into the denim covering his ass as he presses against me.
His teeth scrape my bottom lip, causing me to moan out loud. He lifts me from the counter top and I let my robe slip all the way open. Wrapping my legs around his waist and hanging on for dear life, I tear at his flesh with my hands and mouth.
Air whooshes from my lungs when he slams my back against the refrigerator door. Something that must’ve been on top of it crashes to the floor. Bottles clank together inside but we don’t stop.
“Dammit,” Landen bites out when we run out of breath.
“Don’t stop,” I pant, struggling to suck oxygen into my lungs.
He shakes his head, and I can see him warring with himself. What he wants is battling it out with what he thinks I can handle. “What about the…” He clears his throat and lowers me to standing. “What about the baby? I don’t want to hurt the—”
“You won’t. I checked. Unless you have a baseball bat in your pants, I think we’re fine.”
