Page 68 of These Rough Waters

I groan around his shaft, urging him on, wanting the taste of him on my tongue. I take him all the way back, using my hands to pull him forward as my eyes flick up to his and his reaction is almost instantaneous. He curses loud, muscles shaking as his hips jerk and he spills into my mouth. I eagerly swallow it down, reveling in the look of ecstasy that paints Torin’s face. I pull him out of my mouth gently, licking up the underside of his shaft which causes him a shiver and grin up at him.

“Little doe,” He rasps, cupping my chin and swiping his thumb at the corner of my mouth before he reaches down, lifts me abruptly and carries me across the room, spreading me across the kitchen counter until he’s pressed between my legs and leaning over me. His mouth crashes down onto mine, capturing my whimper as he grinds between my legs.

“I told you I was addicted,” he grins on my mouth, “There’s not enough seconds, minutes or days for me to worship this body. Not enough time to explore every fucking inch of you, to make you scream my name and come all over my cock.”

My head tips back as he grinds forward, already growing hard.

“And I fear, little doe,” he kisses down my jaw, “that I am so far into this addiction there is no way out for me. I cannot and will never get enough of you.”

His hands shove at the leggings, pushing them down as he lifts off me, chin tipping down to watch as he exposes me and rips off the pants, discarding them on the floor. His fingers trail up the insides of my legs before he stops at my inner thighs, flattens his palms, and spreads me apart.

I had no words, I was struggling to even breathe as his words and his actions and his devotion warms me through, from the tips of my toes all the way to my skull.

But there was this nagging at the back of my head that it was too much and me, I was not enough. There were too many secrets and omitted truths. How do I even look at the possibility of letting a man back into my heart when I couldn’t even tell him who I really was.

He kisses me again, softer this time as his cock pushes into me, slowly, filling me, inch by inch while his mouth claims mine. He stills when he’s fully inside, head dropping to my shoulder before he pulls out and thrusts back in, grinding against my pussy as he goes. I whimper, capturing my lip between my teeth as if to stop both the barrage of emotion and the cries of pleasure from escaping.

He thrusts hard but slow, keeping our bodies joined at every point, him deep inside of me, chest to chest, hands gripping and touching, seeking more and growing desperate.

“Let me hear you, Maya,” He growls against my neck, “I like it when you sing for me.”

Fucking hell, where did this man even come from!?

My legs tighten around his hips, his cock sawing in and out of me at a pace that both made me crazy because it was too slow, and had me almost weeping it felt so good.

“I realized something,” He says, slamming into me once more, and then again, and again, my teeth finally releasing my lip to let out a cry of pleasure, “That before you–”

“Don’t,” I beg.

He lifts then, stilling his hips as he stares down at me, reading my expression. His face is a mix of understanding and regret, so he doesn’t speak, he captures my hand and presses his mouth to my palm, thrusting into me before he then lowers my palm to his chest, right over the thumping beat of his heart, and on his face is everything I stopped him from saying.

And it unravels me.

My climax slams into me hard, and I cling to him, holding on for dear life as wave after wave spasms my muscles and my scream is stifled by his shirt. He holds me, drawing out my pleasure with each pump of his hips until he stills and groans, spilling himself once more into me.

“I know,” He whispers shakily, my hands still clawing at him to get closer, be closer, “I know, little doe.”

And that’s the worst part about all of this, I think as he pulls out of me but doesn’t let go, that he did know.

He knew how damaged and broken I was but wasn’t running.

And perhaps that scared me most of all.

I wouldn’t survive another broken heart.

Thirty-three

I’d left Maya with an invitation to my place later. She’d tried to decline, using the excuse of Harper finding out about us should she accept but I’d quickly shut that down. Harper had seen us together and we’d been on our very best behavior and besides, I was certain the kid knew something was up.

After some coaxing, with my mouth and my fingers, she’d accepted, and I’d laughed at her pout after when she realized I’d coerced her into it using her own body against her. It would be the only manipulation I’d use, besides, the girl had to eat, and I was going to feed her.

Perhaps not the way I fed her my cock while she was on her knees, gagging on my length as I fucked her pretty mouth. Shit, that was a memory I wasn’t soon to forget. Seeing her on her knees at my feet, plump lips stretching around my cock, doe eyes on mine as she grins, her teeth scraping across the sensitive skin. And then she swallowed every drop I spilled into her.

But no, as much as I wanted to feed her that again just to see her like that, I was actually going to feed her.

One thing I’ve noticed since I’ve been spending time with her every night these past few days, is that she feels this need to look after me, to feed me, to ensure I have a drink and food, to make sure I’m comfortable even if it means sacrificing her own time to do so.

That wasn’t how this was going to work.

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