Page 87 of Beautiful Beast

Tears blur my vision, and I can barely make out the words on the container of cream that I brought, thinking that I was helping by bringing him an expensive scar treatment that I spent hours researching. It’s supposed to make a huge difference and has thousands of reviews.

“You want to change me,” he whispers. “And you’re the only one who has seen the real me in so many ways.”

Emotion clogs his throat, and I am such a jerk.

I climb onto his lap and bury my face in his neck, wrapping my arms and legs around him. “I’m so sorry. You just… You want to have surgery. I thought this cream could help in the meantime. I think you’re perfect exactly how you are.”

He lets out a long breath into my neck. “The surgeon gave me something, but I’ll ask him about what you brought. I know how much you like to research, and I’m sure it works well.”

His voice is a dull monotone, and I hate that I caused his happiness to drain.

“I’ve seen old pictures of you,” I say, and his body tenses. “I’m not saying thatIwant you to look how you used to. It’s just that you are so uncomfortable in your own body right now, and a scar is stealing your self-confidence. I thought… Maybe it would help you feel more like yourself again, even if you don’t end up looking exactly how you did before.”

“There’s no way that I’ll go back to looking like – or being – the same man that I was before Syria.”

My mind lands on the picture of Adam drinking a beer on the beach with a big grin on his face. I don’t care if he looks how he did before. I just want him to be as happy and carefree as he appeared back then.

Adam doesn’t deserve to live in a mental prison, and he’s almost incapacitated with anxiety whether he realizes it or not. And it causes him to sabotage all the good things in his life.

“No,” I agree. “You’ll be Adam 2.0, and a much better version because of what you lived through. We’re all a culmination of our experiences, and none of us are the same as we were last year. If we are, then we’ve become stagnant and aren’t living life right.”

He gives me a half-smile and leans forward to gently kiss my lips. “You’re pretty smart for only being twenty.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m twenty-four. And I love everything about you, exactly as you are.”

“I know you’re just trying to help,” he says softly. “I’m just… My head is a complicated place right now.”

“So, let’s do something simple.”

I massage his shoulders while I dip my head to kiss his lips. It doesn’t take long before he fully responds, his big hands holding my hips and rocking me along the length of his cock.

He stands with me in his arms and submerges us in the hot tub, the water enveloping my skin in a cocoon of heat and instantly sky rocketing my body temperature.

My hands are all over his chest and I try to kiss him urgently, but he slows the pace. Painfully slows it. His mouth is unhurried and methodical, teasing and tasting every inch of my mouth and making me ache.

For some reason, I don’t close my eyes and neither does he. I pull back, spreading kisses across his lips and jaw, watching his nostrils flare. We’re so close that I fully appreciate the wild mix of his cobalt blue irises, rimmed with golden green.

My breasts rub against the hard muscles of his pecs, the thin, wet material of my bikini top clinging to my pebbled nipples.

We’re still getting acquainted with each other’s bodies, and his hands are familiarizing themselves with my skin as though he’s trying to commit my curves to memory.

Violent shudders rack my body from our erotic exploration, and I want him so badly. I’m needy, demanding, and desperate whereas Adam is made of stone. He’s still tempering me, slowing us down, and driving me absolutely crazy.

“Adam,” I moan. “You need to fuck me. Right now.”

“We have all the time in the world,” Adam reminds me. “And I want to know how you taste everywhere.”

He’s sucking and nipping my jaw and neck, restless tremors making me shake and grind against his hard cock, seeking relief that only he can provide.

This man deserves royal treatment, and I am so sorry that I hurt him.

When words aren’t enough, actions fill in the gaps.

Every time he moves, his cock rubs against my aching pussy and I moan, heat spreading throughout my tingly limbs.

We’re dry humping like teenagers, rhythmically grinding and meeting each other on every stroke. With a growl, he rips my bikini top off and tosses it aside, moving his hot mouth from one of my nipples to the other until they’re both puckered and aching.

Adam grinds his teeth, trying to hold it together, to hold back.

---