I had no doubt that they were painful, would probably be tender in the morning, but I also knew that the masochist that lived inside her would enjoy it. When the waist of her jeans rubbed across the marks she would smile and remember where I'd been.
She groaned when I pressed my tongue back to her clit and swirled. I tasted her sweet arousal on my tongue as I flicked and pressed until her body shook and her knees tightened around my head.
“Mmm . . . not yet . . .” I murmured as I dragged my teeth along her clit, just to the point of pain, and then thrust two fingers into her tight cunt and hooked, curling my digits and finding that rigid bundle of nerves inside her and pulling. She exploded all over my fingers and writhed beneath me before I ducked my head between her thighs and lapped up all the sweet arousal.
Her body still heaving from her orgasm, I trailed my tongue up her flesh, licking and sucking at her nipples, before I placed a soft kiss at the hollow of her throat and plunging into her as hard as I could.
She grunted as I pushed her up the bed and pounded into her. My hips thrust in and out as I plucked and kneaded at the flesh of her tits. I flicked and twisted her nipples before leaning down to take one into my mouth. I sucked and bit, watching her face as it twitched with a mix of pain and pleasure.
She molded my lips up to hers in what I thought would be a searing kiss, until she titled my neck and sunk her teeth into the tender skin. I grunted and groaned as she sucked and laved her tongue along the mark. She pulled my flesh between her lips and nibbled at the skin until I was clenching my fists as the bite of pain sunk into my bones.
I yanked away from her, plunged my thumb in her mouth and felt her teeth run along the edges of the pad of my thumb. She was teasing, taunting, making me grow impossibly harder inside her.
I pumped into her, circled my hips as primal, raw grunts came from her throat and she arched off the bed and tried to slam her body back against mine.
“Stop moving,” I growled and smacked at her beautiful pert nipple. She didn’t hear me or didn’t care, because she continued to work back and forth against my thrusts, chasing my dick as much as I was riding her.
“Stop moving or I’ll stop.” I pinched at her nipple until her eyes shot open and she clenched her teeth together. That got her attention. Her eyes blazed back at me, the anger and pain and lust swirling in her fiery green depths.
“Got your attention, huh? Teach you to listen to me next time.” I swirled my thumb around the tight bud of her clit.
“You think so?” she breathed as she tensed her core and her pussy fisted around me and she came in pulsing waves. It was agonizing torture. The sweetest kind.
“Fuck.” I drew out of her, punishing her for getting off when I'd told her not to. I glanced down, my dick glistening with her thick arousal before I took it in my hand and teased up her length, then to her back entrance.
I tipped my head up, a smirk falling on my lips as I nudged between her ass cheeks.
“Do it. Make it hard. Unless you're losing your touch?”
I snarled, my eyes widened, and just like that, I came unleashed.
I grabbed her calves and thrust them high above my head, crossed them at the ankle and angled them over one shoulder. My feet planted firmly on the floor, I angled her in such a way that it would make her impossibly tighter around my cock.
I probed my cock against her back entrance again, teasing her as she watched me, a devilish smile on her face. I pushed farther, eased, in, breached the tight ring of muscle as she moaned and fisted at the sheets.
I held her ankles above my head as I seated myself inside her, pushing into her as far as I could get, my other hand fisted at one sweet ass cheek.
“Fuck me,” she growled; the challenge, the anger, the lust, the sex, the want—it all crashed in on me. Had my heart thudding and my body itching to own her, own every piece of her.
Dismantle her cell by cell and put her back together again, so she needed me. Needed me to live. I wanted to be the glue that held every shattered piece together so there was no living without me.
She did that to me.
Had me coming undone.
So I did. I grunted and poured everything I had into her sweet ass. Her soft body, open to me, taking me, letting me chase the pain and blackness away for one night.
“Do it,” she muttered. She knew. She knew that one last thing. Fuck, she always got me. And in that moment, I knew. I knew looking into those soulful green eyes that she was stronger than I’d ever been. She’d pulled herself together after I’d torn her apart, and I’d been the one to crumble. She’d come back for me, even when I didn’t deserve it. She had strength she didn’t even know she had. But I saw it. Right there, staring back at me. My everything.
I reeled back, plunged in again, and fisted at her breast, so hard it left red marks, before I leaned down and bit under her the curve of her breast as my other hand trailed to her throat. I bit. I bruised. I didn’t draw blood, but I had blood pooling under the skin, a red welt to mark her, where only she and I would ever see. My hand fisted around her neck, the delicate silk skin covering her windpipe; just a fraction too hard and she’d lose her breath.
I clutched my fist and pressed against her throat just enough to restrict her air, have her sucking in sharp breaths, desperate for oxygen and the sweet pleasure that would flood her system when I finally let go and she rocketed off underneath me.
Her eyes winced with the pain, but when they opened and I thrust in and out of her, the lusty smile that graced her lips spurred me on until I released my hand and exploded inside of her. She pulsed around me. Waves crashed through her body as she whimpered and moaned while I rode my orgasm inside her.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I gazed at her beautiful dark hair splayed across the pillow. I bent over, ran a hand through her long strands, and fisted. Pressed my lips to hers in a searing, take-no-prisoners kiss, and then slowly pulled out of her. This was the point where I normally traipsed off to the bathroom and washed off, cleaned myself of sex.
But I couldn’t bear to leave her.
Instead, I threw the comforter over our naked bodies and tucked her into my side, sucked in the musky scent of our lovemaking, and fell into a dreamless sleep.
I woke to my fist wrapped in Mia’s dark hair. Wild curls splayed across the pillow we shared. We were huddled together in her little twin, and I never felt so connected, so a part of her, when she was tucked into my body, our legs entwined, her hand wrapped around my torso like I couldn’t pry her away.
I wasn’t sure if this meant anything for us. It'd meant something to me, being with her always did, but I had no way of knowing what she was thinking.
The thought of my brother, tucked into his warm bed with his beautiful wife and their unborn baby warmed my heart, and a great sense of peace settled over me. He was good. And I was good. Mia had saved me, and then I’d saved her.
I traced my thumb along the soft slope of her cheekbone and over her eyebrow. She was stunning in the dim light of morning.
I pressed a kiss to the warm curve of her neck and I felt her heartbeat beneath her skin. I closed my eyes and sucked in the soft honeysuckle scent that emanated from her.
“I didn’t remember you being such a creeper first thing,” she murmured and stretched her arms above her head.
A grin tipped my lips as I watched the blanket slide down her body and hint at the delicious curve of her breasts underneath. I untangled my hand from her hair and ran it down her neck. I pushed the blanket farther down and revealed her pert tits to the cool air. The nipples puckered and I swiped at one and pinched.
“Ouch.” She swatted my hand away and rubbed her nipple.
“That’s even hotter.” I raised my eyebrows as I watched her fondle herself.
“I bet it is.” She grinned and turned toward me in bed, her head propped on her arm as she watched me, a soft smile curving her rosy pink lips. The silence stretched between us as we held each other's eyes.
“Did you . . . drink last night?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I would be lying if I said it didn’t cross my mind, but I was so fucking worried.”
“About what?” Her eyes bore into me, empathy rolling off them.
“You. Us. I didn’t know what it all meant. I hated myself for so long. I didn’t know if you could forgive me.”
“There was never anything to forgive.” She smoothed the pad of her thumb along my temple. “Ever. You’ve always done what you thought was right. Your perception of yourself was always skewed, but I saw the real you. I’ve always seen you.”
I tossed her words around in my head.
“Maybe we should go to church.”
“What?” I barked out a laugh. Religion had never quite been my thing, and as far as I knew, it wasn’t hers either.
“Worship at the altar for our past transgressions. Retribution. Forgiveness.”
“Mmm . . . I'm happy right here worshiping at the altar of this,” I murmured as I nipped at her neck and trailed a hand over her tits and down to cup between her legs, thrusting a finger inside of her hot pussy.
“You’re sinful.”
“Never claimed to be anything but.” I thrust my finger in and out, the evidence of our lovemaking still inside her. Me inside her. I hadn’t used a condom. Mia and I never had when we were together since she used an IUD. My mind darted back to the first time we were together again, outside her parents’ house against the tree.
I'd used one then.
I'd protected myself with her, because she didn't know who I'd been with. I wouldn't put her at risk. Didn't want her to think I hadn't thought of her safety.
Because the truth was I did.
I thought of her all the time.
“I missed this.” I pulled away from her body and ran my palm up her pubic bone, traced the vibrant tattoo that was a mirror image of my own on her hip, up her soft stomach to whisper beneath her breasts.
“And I like this here.” I dusted a thumb along the fiery red bruise left under her breast where I’d bitten her last night.
“I do too.” She licked her lips as her eyes trained on mine.
“I’m glad. Means you’re mine.” I’d said it, said what I’d been aching to say for months. I'd wanted to lay claim to her just like I did the first time almost two years ago.
“And what if I said I didn’t like it?” She grinned and I realized she wasn’t touching me. I was touching her, all over, but she wasn’t touching me back. My mind obsessed over that realization, wondering what was going on behind those pretty green eyes.
“I wish I could say I would change, I could be fixed, but . . .” I trailed off and averted my eyes. She’d urged me on last night. Begged me to make it hurt, but maybe I’d misread her. I shouldn’t have left bruises on her body. Her ass was fiery red, bruised thumbprints dusted along her hips where I'd dug into her as I sought my release, and those bite marks that so frequently decorated her breasts when we were together glowed. I tore her apart like a wild fucking animal, consuming her for my own selfish benefit, to prove to her that she was mine—she couldn’t live without me.
But clearly, she could. She had.
“Hey.” She grabbed my chin and turned my eyes to hers. “I realized something about you long ago, Ridge Wild.”
“Oh yeah?” I tipped my head and smiled at her.
“Other than you have a smile that melts panties.” She smacked my cheek playfully.
“Other than that.”
“We don’t have to fix each other. We don’t need to. You’re not perfect, and I’m not perfect, but we’re perfect together. It was never about fixing you; it was always about loving you.” She dusted a kiss along the corner of my mouth.
My eyes danced around her dark features, soaking her up, before I pulled her in tighter to my body and planted a kiss on her lips.
I realized finding her, fighting for her, was about forgiveness, some twisted sense of retribution, coming to terms with our pasts and learning that they don’t define us, but only serve to shape us, make us who we are, make us better people.
As I looked at her, I realized I had two options. I could go back in the direction I’d come from, or I could go forward in the direction I wanted to go.
I was shit without her, but fortunately, when I was with her, she was my other half. My matching piece. My mirror image. My perfect opposite.
“What are you thinking?” she asked when I pulled away and hovered over her.
“That I want inside this body again.” I grinned and gripped at her hip.
“Romantic.”
“Never claimed to be that either. I don’t love you, My.”
Her eyes widened in surprise.
“It’s so much more than that. I live for you. I’m shit at life without you. And I think I’m finally good with that,” I whispered against her lips before kissing her again.
Mia and I never got married. It wasn’t a conscious decision necessarily; it just never happened.
We went back to Portland after that weekend at her dad’s place in Rock Island, after our lives were turned upside down yet again, and she never left my place. She slowly moved in, one dress, one pair of shoes, one bag at a time, and she hasn't left.
And I'm so glad for it.
It’s been four years since we found out our worlds were impossibly linked, more than we’d ever even realized from the beginning.
And four years later, we were stronger than ever. When I met her, I'd found me.
I thought back to the day I'd run into Amy in Portland this past winter.
Valentine's Day and I was walking out of Aristelle with a bagful of lingerie and other delicious playthings when I spotted a familiar dirty blonde across the street.
Amy.
She turned, a smile, shining eyes, rounded belly.
Amy was pregnant.
Relief flooded through my system when I made my way across the street.
“Can we talk for a minute?”
Her mouth popped open. She wrung her hands together and then turned to her friend, asking her to give us a minute.
“You look great, Amy.” I nodded at her protruding belly after we'd stepped away.
“Thanks.”
“You’ve got this glow.” I took in her flushed cheeks, eyes that seemed to glisten with happiness.
“Concealer.” She grinned. “Little sucker is already messing with my sleep.”
“No, really, you look . . . really good.”
“Thank you.”
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything. I never should have done what I did to you. Starting from the beginning.”
“All water under the bridge. I'm so far beyond what we had . . .” She patted her tummy again.
“I see that. I'm glad that you've . . . moved on.”
“Me too”
“I’ve just felt so fucking bad for so long.”
“Why?”
“I caused your miscarriage, Amy. I used you from the beginning. I was such an asshole.”
“I won't deny that.” A smile turned up her cheeks, “But I knew, Ridge.”
“Knew what?”
“What you were trying to do. I know now I could have been anyone that night in the bar. I was trying to force it, trying to replace her. But I think she was irreplaceable.” She nodded to the bag in my hands.
“Yeah, she is.”
“And you didn’t cause my miscarriage. They happen all the time.”
“I’m really glad it didn’t affect things . . . permanently.”
“Me too.”
“Is he good to you?”
“Adam? Yeah, he’s amazing.” A soft smile tugged at her lips.
“I’m glad. You deserve it.”
“You deserve it too, Ridge. Drop the guilt, you always deserved more.” She smiled softly. “I’ve got to get back, but I’m glad we talked.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Ridge.” She p
laced a friendly kiss on my cheek.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Amy,” I mumbled before she turned and walked back to her friend.
I hadn't realized, even four years later, I was still carrying so much guilt about Amy, but that encounter had freed me a little bit. I couldn’t take back what I'd done to her, but I also hadn't broken her.
“Can we have ice cream for dinner?” A small voice pulled me from my memories. Two matching floppy-haired boys looked up at me, one with icy blue eyes, the other’s searing green.
I looked at Mia, a silly smile on my face.
“Well . . . I don’t know if your mom would appreciate that . . .”
Mia rolled her eyes as she snuggled Gavin to her neck.
“So, let’s do it!” I grinned and swiped Grant into my arms and we strode across the park to the ice cream shop, overlooking the harbor in Rock Island.
“Chocolate or vanilla?” I held the little guy’s hand in my own.
“Both,” both boys shrieked simultaneously.
Beautiful little boys. Every time I looked at their little round faces, I couldn’t help but see my brother and me when we were little. I hoped they wouldn’t have to face the challenges we had, but we were in a good place now, and I hoped they’d always have that bond we now shared.
“Okay . . . chocolate vanilla twist it is.” I grinned and pulled out my wallet to pay for the ice cream.
The four of us plopped down on the bench, all sticky faces and hands as they licked at their cones in the July heat.
“Uncle Ridge?”
“Yeah, buddy?” I swooped in and licked at Gavin's ice cream cone when he wasn’t looking.
“Are you and Aunt My ever gonna give me and Grant cousins?”
“Not for lack of trying.” I grinned at Mia. Her green eyes flashed in embarrassment before she leaned over Gavin's head to smack me on the chest.
I winced. “Ah! Watch it, I'm healing. You should be nursing me, not beating me.”
She smirked as I dusted my fingers over the fresh ink on my chest. For her birthday, just above the flower dedicated to my mom, I'd inked her name on my chest.
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