Page 100 of That Sik Luv

I feel the sting of his teeth sinking into my shoulder as he bites down, holding me hostage to his release. I lie there, defenseless against the pleasure, legs spread open for him, as he gives himself over to me entirely. Feeling his cock pulsing into me as his hips roll against mine in short, shuddering motions, the sounds of his climax send me into my own. I tighten around him as the sensation hits me like a storm, tossing me into a flurry of cataclysmic and wondrous euphoria, lighting me throughout my body as ungodly sounds escape me.

He remains buried deep inside me, our chests sealed together as we control our breaths, silently just staring at one another in absolute wonder.

I don’t care how we got here. I don’t even care that my life is still in complete disarray. The very church I once wished to be a staple in wants me dead. I’m an orphan with no known parents, no known siblings, no known life outside the man seated deep within my walls. The one who’s slithering his way into the tight confines of my heart, controlling its every beat. The man that’s witnessed my self-surrender to a life of deception, and sunken into the mystic depths of my newly awakened soul.

Chapter forty-five

Assimilation of Touch

Ican’tstop.

I’m staring at my little doll lying here beside me, sleeping so peacefully.

Her black lashes tickle the tops of her soft cheeks, her rosy lips sit like a little heart on her face, perfectly sensual and lucious, and her beautiful, silky black hair lay thick and sprawled above her head. Her chest rises and falls in steady, slow breaths.

My cock urges me to wake her up. To interrupt whatever dream she’s in, awakening her to a better one. But a different part of me can’t bear the thought of disrupting something so peaceful. So pure.

I’d love nothing more than to suck those perfectly pink, fleshy nipples that press against my white oversized shirt covering her body, into my mouth, to spread those milky thighs and lap up my favorite source of hydration. Fuck, I could drink her in for days.

But she twitches her nose then nuzzles her head against my side, curling up into me, and my heart constricts while my body stiffens.

She does this in her sleep. Curls her body into mine, almost seeking it for comfort and warmth. It’s weird to think someone can be so fucking sexy while simultaneously looking cute. My face contorts at the idea. Her fist curls against her chest, her slim little fingers resting gently together. She’s as innocent as a baby rabbit in the woods, but wake her up, and guaranteed she’ll show you her fucking teeth.

She’s come so far for me, really coming into her own in my presence. But her words from earlier resonate; the longing to touch, to memorize every inch of my flesh against hers.

I’ve never wanted to change for anyone. The idea literally enraged me. I’d become who I was for a reason. I controlled my world and my surroundings now, not believing anything other than the truths I’d seen materialize before me. I had to. Losing the control I’d felt as a boy was a horror I’d never wished to revisit.

But with Briony, losing control doesn’t cost me my livelihood. It strengthens me because somehow she’s figured out how to empower me. She’s proven she won’t let me fall alone. She builds me up, just as I’ve done with her all along, accepting the broken man any way she can get me.

A form of the word love she talks about that I’ve never known. Selfless love.

She doesn’t do it to derive anything from me. This isn’t a transaction from which she gains anything from me. She sticks by my side because, for some strange reason, she chooses to. Briony gravitates towards the person I am with no conditions. Without equivocation. It’s an emotion I’ve never felt or known, and it takes some getting used to.

My fingers graze hers, and an idea comes over me. I lay my head back against the pillow, gazing up at the ceiling. Inhaling, I breathe in the scent of fresh apples from the top of her head, the shampoo I washed throughout her silky locks last night. Taking her hand, I hover it over my chest. With a clenched jaw, I trail her relaxed palm and loose fingers across my scarred and tatted flesh, exhaling slowly. From the mounds of my chest, down into the divot of the line of my abdomen, I move her hand by the wrist, adjusting to the gentle feel of her touch on me.

Breathing through the initial discomfort, I inhale her aroma again, and it calms me.I’m in control.

I continue this for a few minutes, just her fingers drawing soft circles across my skin as I guide her hand by the wrist. Finding myself enjoying the sensation, my heart calms and my breaths steady as lazy fingers trail up and down my abdomen. I lick my lips, tingling sensations forming below the sheets as my cock comes alive.

Visions of placing her soft palm on my growing erection overtake me as I trail her hand lower and lower. Her fingertips brush against the straining bulge sitting beneath the thin white fabric, and my abdominal muscles tighten as I breathe through flared nostrils.

Her head shifts next to me, and a soft hum leaves her throat. Feathery lashes blink against her upper cheeks before her head tips up and a lazy grin finds me.

A tightness forms in my chest at the simple smile. Her blue eyes, framed in thick, black lashes, focus on me before they look down at the place where my hand holds her wrist. Her brows knit as she peers back up at me.

“I was trying something.”

A soft look of understanding finds me.

“Well, by all means,” she whispers, smiling down at her wrist in my hand, cuddling her cheek back against me. “Continue.”

I readjust one hand behind my head, her head laying back on my bicep as I continue trailing her fingers over the muscles of my chest and abdomen again. She sighs, relaxing against me as I control her touch. Her fingers cross over a large scar near my lower abdomen, and I see her eyes focus on it.

“What’s that one from?” she asks hesitantly.

I trail her fingers along it. “One of the women who worked at Nox’s club ended up getting pregnant by a regular. An investment banker with a wife and family of his own, he’d clearly been neglecting. Once he found out about the pregnancy, he’d requested that she abort the baby immediately. She refused. So he found her in the alleyway after work, beat her into a coma, causing her permanent brain damage, and ultimately losing the baby in the process. Everything he wanted.”

Briony sucks in a careful breath at the severity of the story; her hand still relaxed as I move it back and forth over the lengthy scar.

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