Page 22 of Redemption

“You’re lying.”

I shake my head.

“Do you know how fucking much I want you?”

I widen my eyes and shake my head again. He grabs my waist and pulls me to him, putting his mouth to my ear.

“Let me show you how much.” His hand slides over my ass and dips in between my legs, pushing into my heat. “So wet for me, Ker.” He pulls my panties aside and a jolt runs through me as his fingers slide along my folds and then push inside.

I gasp and buck, speared by his fingers that begin to move in me. In. Out. Slide over my clit. Thrust inside. Pushing, prodding. I tremble in his firm hold, lost in the heavy sensation of pure want, of a need for release I had forgotten I even craved. Suddenly, he pulls out and pulls my panties down my legs. I step out of them, tremors running through me. Kneeling, he grabs my thigh and lifts it as he presses his nose against my pussy. I cry out when his tongue starts circling my clit. Teetering on the edge of an orgasm, all I can do is grab his hair and go along for the ride.

He shoves his fingers inside me again and thrusts hard as he keeps teasing my clit, his tongue expertly twirling, flicking the swollen nub. I begin to shake before I finally come apart completely, nearly blacking out, thrashing in his hold, my knees folding. He scoops me up before I fall like a rag doll and carries me to the couch. I’m so dazed, I barely register where I am.

He lets me down on my back, and moves in on me, snapping open his belt. The rattling pulls me out of my fog and as I look up, I see a man with a gaze so dark it looks like he’s going to hurt me. His jaw clenches and he’s the most frightening thing I’ve ever seen. I push at his chest and scramble back.

“Wait,” I gasp.

He grabs my ankle and pulls me to him. “No. No more waiting.” His voice is a low growl, so primal it sends spikes of heat and fright through me, a confusing mix of sensations I can’t even begin to sort.

“Don’t move, Kerry. Not one inch. You hear me?”

I swallow hard and nod, looking up at the magnificent male towering over me.

“Good girl.”

He grabs the hem of his T-shirt and pulls it over his head, revealing a broad chest, all muscles and hard planes, light caramel colored skin beneath a carpet of dark hair. A large tattoo snakes from his back and up over his left shoulder, with the head of a dragon sitting on the front of the shoulder, moving with the rippling muscles. On the inside of his right forearm, he has an ornamented cross, the size of my palm. He looks absolutely amazing. Tossing the shirt, he holds my gaze with his black eyes as he pulls the belt out of the loops, slowly, inch by inch. When it falls free, he leans in, catches my wrists and wraps the belt around them, tightening it and fastening it.

“Hey!” I lift my arms and pull, trying to break free, but he slams them back down against the armrest.

“Shh. Don’t move. Don’t be afraid, Kerry. We’re just… playing.”

He traces his fingertips along my arms and down to my chest, brushing past my nipples that immediately peak. He circles them through the fabric, pinching lightly, making me arch, spikes of renewed need shooting straight between my legs. He flattens his palms and caresses down along my ribcage, to where the shirt ends and naked skin begins. His hands are hot, a bit calloused, and rasp slightly as he pushes up my shirt, past my breasts, over my head, leaving it hanging on my arms.

His fingertips trace my chest down to the lower right side of my belly, to my little rose tattoo: a green stem with leaves and thorns and a deep red crown.

“Pretty.”

“I put it over my appendectomy scar. The thorns because of the pain when my appendix ruptured. The flower because I’m happy to be alive.”

Christian gives me a gaze that darkens briefly and plants a kiss on the rose. Moving up along my chest, kissing and nibbling, he makes me gasp from the heat that rushes to every patch of skin he touches.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he moans as he leans in, catching my lips. “Give yourself to me. I’ve wanted to fuck you so badly since I first saw you. You have no fucking idea how horny you make me,” he mumbles against my lips. Then he claims me, devouring my mouth, his tongue never asking entrance, but forcing its way in. I gasp as I let him take every little corner and crevice, battling him, taking back what I need as well. He tastes delicious, of spices, and him, the essence that is this man. Never breaking the kiss, he lets his hand slide down along my side, to my hip, gripping my flesh a little too hard, demanding, as if he owns my body. Nudging my thighs apart with his knee, he then dips his hand in between my legs, finding my soaked core.

“So wet,” he pants, “so wet for me, Kerry.”

I writhe under him as he thrusts his fingers inside me, pushing in deep, making me gasp.

“Do you want me here? Do you want me to fuck you?”

I’m too far gone to do anything but nod. My heart pounds like mad and everything is him, his taste, his scent, his heat.

“Tell me.”

“What?”

“Tell me to fuck you. Tell me you want me. Now.” His voice is husky, rough, demanding, leaving no room for hesitation.

“I— I want you,” I gasp.

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