Page 72 of Jagged Line Paradise

I am more than fucking satisfied when I see the black lines of her eye make-up start to run from the corners of her eyes where they water, her lips pink and skin flushed, her gasping and coughing, her trembling body.

I’m just about to ask her if she’s okay, but then she moans, tilts her head back, opens her mouth fucking wide, and sticks out her tongue for me.

“Dios mío,” I mutter, then shove back inside her mouth roughly. I thrust in and out in slow strokes, savoring the feel of her tongue along my shaft.

The best part of this is the way her thighs twitch, the way her hand runs down her body, inching toward the perfect patch of ginger curls that point me to her sex. She wants to touch herself, but she can’t; she can’t because of the belt I tightened around her legs. She’s not allowed to come without me inside her and I want to drive her crazy first.

I reach down, grab a fistful of her breast and squeeze. Her back arches and I let go, just long enough to slap her hard right over her nipple before fisting a handful again. “Play with your tits,” I tell her, and it’s as if she needed the command to steady herself.

Instantly, her fingers are on her unexpectedly dark nipples. She rubs her hands over them before grabbing, twisting, pulling, teasing herself into pleasure until she’s arching off the bed and kicking her feet.

I wanted to come first, build up anticipation for her, make her wait until I got a second hard-on so I can fuck her raw. But seeing the way she squirms makes my heart pound incessantly, almost painfully, insistent that I take care of her ache. I can’t stand to see her aching. My throbbing heart demands I fill her every need, immediately and precisely.

I pull out and step back, letting go of her head. She rolls over on the bed and pushes up on to her hands and knees, legs still locked together. She tosses her tangled hair back over her shoulder and stares at me with heat as she wipes the back of her hand across her wet mouth, panting to catch her breath. Her eyes are wide and wanting, lips parted to draw in haggard breaths, back arched in a pose that demands sexual attention.

“Give me more,” she whispers desperately, her tongue wetting her lips. “Please, give me more. Come on my tongue.” She opens her mouth for me, crawling forward.

Whothe fuck is this spectacular woman?

I intend to launch myself at her, pounce on her, mount her, and fuckher, but her eyes make me pause. Her eyes are more expressive in this moment than I’ve ever seen before. I’ve never seen so many raw emotions in a single look. There’s desire and hunger there, of course, but there’s so much more.

I can see the ghosts of her past dance across the green, the shadows that plague her, the pain of her whole goddamn life. I want—no, Ineedto take her pain away. I need to find a way to burrow inside her soul and banish the spirits that lock her in time. There’s so much more to her, so much stuck in the shadows of a life that has always been haunted.

The beast doesn’t want to hurt her—it doesn’t want to prey on her. It just fucking wants toplay.

Her eyebrows slant toward her nose as she catches my pause. Her head tilts and she bites her lip. “Andrés?” She lifts her hand, reaches forward tentatively, then drops it again to the mattress. “Please?” Her voice has turned from wanton lust to desperate pleading, and I can’t take it.

I pounce onto the bed and she quickly sits back on her heels as I come forward, rushing to her on my knees. I grab her face with both hands, and I kiss her like I’ve never kissed any other woman before, not even her. This kiss is my complete and total surrender to whatever this is between us—this beautiful, painful, perfect, haunting thing between us. Our mouths part and our tongues glide as she throws her arms around me and crushes me in her hold.

I let my lips slip down to kiss her neck as I reach between us, panting like a dog, to unbuckle the belt around her thighs. I tug, whipping it off from her legs and tossing it across the room, the metal buckle hitting the wall with aclangbefore landing on the floor.

I grab her, twist her, and push her onto her back, falling with her and immediately find her lips. She parts her legs for me as her hands rub over my back, reaching for my ass, holding me down on her. I mold her to the mattress, wishing I could somehow be closer.

I need to be inside her.

“Please,” she whimpers as I kiss her cheek, moving toward her jawline. “Please, I want you inside me. I need you…” her voice breaks and it nearly kills me.

I want to fix her.

I want to save her.

I want to make her whole again.

With a groan, I push inside her as deep as I can go. And for the first time in my whole fucking life, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Chapter 19

Avalon

I’M WHOLE.

I’m one complete piece for the first time in my life and it’s the most painfully pleasant sensation I’ve ever known. Andrés is inside me, but not just physically. He fills every sense, casting out the shadowed spirits and sending the spiders scurrying away.

He’s buried to the hilt inside me, but he doesn’t move—he just trembles above me. I wonder if he feels what I feel. I worry that maybe he doesn’t. He keeps his hips forward as he shifts, staying deep within me as he raises up on his arms to look down at me.

His eyes are dark the way they always are, but they’re clear now, not clouded. It’s probably just the way the bright fluorescent lights reflect off them, but the chocolate color is somehow lightened, flecks of honey brightening them brilliantly.

They flicker as they shift across my face, watching me as I watch him back. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I wish he would tell me. I’m afraid to ask because I don’t want to spoil this.

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