Obscured Love

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Obscured Love Page 12

by Delilah Mohan


  The fucker walked her to the door, and I had to watch as he kissed her on her cheek like some fucking gentleman, all the while knowing his hand was practically up her dress earlier. Then, as he walked away, a smug smile took over her face and I lost it. I lost every ounce of control I had been barely hanging on to and let it bubble over into an explosive rage.

  She opened the door, still wearing that self-satisfied smile, and all I could do was let all my anger spill into one solid sentence, expressing my feelings, “Are you fucking kidding me!”

  She stopped in the doorway, staring at me, not budging an inch. Any other time, I would feel bad for scaring her, because God knows I would never hurt her, not a single finger would ever touch her to cause pain. Right now though, I couldn’t trust myself to not crush the beer bottle in my hand, so there was no way I would let myself get close enough to her to give any sort of reassurance.

  She slowly reached behind her and shut the door. Not taking her eyes off me, she turned the lock. She took a few deep inhales before her heels began to click as she walked across the tile to the table she always puts her purse on. She sat her bag down, before saying, as if she hadn’t just been gone half the fucking night, “What’s wrong?”

  What’s wrong? Really? Is that how she was going to play this? “What’s wrong? What. Is. Wrong? What’s wrong is you were gone half the fucking night and you didn’t even have enough decency to fucking call me.”

  “My phone was dead. See.” She held up her phone as if that mattered. “I was with Ben and Myra; it was no big deal.”

  “Ben and Myra weren’t answering their phones, either. How many fucking times have I told you to keep your phone charged? What if there was an emergency?”

  “There wasn’t an emergency. It’s fine.”

  I calmly set my bottle on the coffee table, before bringing my hands to my hair, tugging at it while I tried to compose myself. I paced a small circle, taking deep breathes. It didn’t help, nothing was calming the burn I was feeling. “I thought you were dead.” I choked out, sounding less composed than I hoped, but there was nothing I could do about it now. She heard my voice crack, she knew I was weak. “I called you for hours, Lotus, and all I could think about was what would happen if you were hurt and needed help and I would never fucking know it.”

  She held up her hands as if calming a spooked horse, “But I’m fine.”

  “I didn’t fucking know that.” The boom erupted from my mouth before I could stop the shout from happening. She made me lose all my control and she didn't even realize it. “But you know what I did know, Lotus? After calling you repeatedly for hours?”

  I took a step toward her and she took a step back. “What?” came the whisper from those pretty, red painted lips.

  “I knew you were out with that fucking prick, and you let him touch you. His goddamn hands were all over you and you did nothing to fucking stop him.” I took another step toward her, she took another back.

  “We danced . . . big deal.” Even with her eyes wide like a fucking doe, she threw me attitude, like none of that mattered. But it did, because the video couldn’t hide the fact that she enjoyed his touch. It was written all over her face.

  “You liked it.”

  “I like to dance.”

  “You like him.”

  “He’s one of my closest friends.”

  My voice rose again, my emotions making controlling it damn near impossible. “You shouldn’t be hanging around him, he’s nothing but trouble.”

  Her voice rose equally loud, “You don’t even know him, Beck.”

  “I know he’s everything wrong. He has piercings, lots of them. He lets you fawn all over him and it’s disgusting how you baby him. Don’t even get me started on all his fucking tattoos. Everything about him attracts trouble to sweet girls like you, Lotus.” Somehow all my advances had ended with me bracing my arm on the wall above her head, the same wall she backed up against to avoid being too close to me.

  She was quiet, obviously afraid to enrage the beast but unwilling to compromise her stubbornness. “What’s so wrong with tattoos? You have tattoos.”

  “And I’m completely wrong for you, too!” I slammed my palm above her while I shouted only a few inches from her head. She flinched but she didn’t look away.

  The air was stiff around us, the electricity so strong, I swear I felt my hair move from the static. The only sound was my erratic breathing and the wayward beats of my heart. Still, she didn’t move . . . She made no attempt to escape the wrath of my irrational anger or even try to push some space between us. Instead, without a single word spoken, she slowly reached her hand up and gently placed it against my cheek, using her thumb to slowly stroke against my skin.

  I closed my eyes, leaning into her touch, knowing I should pull away and stop her but wanting to feel this; her touch, affection, some semblance of caring . . . just for a few more moments. It took all the strength within me to finally open my eyes, just to find her curious sapphire eyes looking at me tenderly. I raised my hand to hers, with every intention on stopping her strokes and pulling it away. Instead, I wrapped my fingers around her wrist and held her tightly in place.

  Her eyes burned into me, and as much as I told myself I should, I couldn’t bring myself to look away. That right there, that feeling of acceptance, was something I longed to have for so long that facing it head on petrified me. But in that moment, I no longer cared about all the reasons I shouldn’t let Lotus in, and began to wonder what harm it could cause to just have her once.

  It might have been the beer I drank, or possibly the beginning of an adrenaline crash, but either way I did the only thing I could think of. The only possible thing that could calm my soul and soothe the current that still ran through my veins.

  I pushed Lotus up against the wall, securing her body tightly against my own, and let my lips crash into hers. Transferring all the fury and tension in my body to her.

  Chapter 15

  LOTUS

  I didn’t know what to expect from Beckett, but I wasn’t willing to apologize to him knowing I did absolutely nothing wrong. After watching him tonight, I suspected that whatever this was, it ran deeper than he was letting on, not that I would ask because he wouldn't surface his weaknesses.

  It was shocking really, the way he practically folded into me, seeking my touch the moment I laid my hand on his cheek. I let my thumb graze softly at the skin just under his eye, trying to soothe his restlessness. His eyes closed and in that second, I had never seen anyone look more vulnerable. My heart broke for this man. This man who felt he wasn’t good enough for me, or anyone for that matter.

  I thought he was going to stop me. The moment his arm shot up and his fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist, I thought for sure he was going to pull away and this moment would be over. Lost in a wave of other small moments and carried off to sea, never to be thought of again. Instead, he surprised me, holding my wrists tightly in place like he, too, didn’t want to lose this.

  When his eyes opened and locked with mine, he held my gaze, challenging me to take away what I had just given. The absolute truth was I couldn’t look away. Looking away felt like I was betraying him, and hadn’t I just broken through? There was no way I was going to back down from the challenge he was issuing, I never had and I never would.

  But the only thing I hadn’t prepared for, the one single thing my beer fogged brain hadn’t quite registered, was that unlike the other times he challenged and I accepted, this wasn’t just a game of strength of wills. This thing between us was more than that, and he proved it the second he crushed my body against the entry wall and kissed me.

  It was fierce, it was painful, and it was so damn perfect that I never wanted it to end. It didn’t matter that his large frame pinned me against the wall, I wanted . . . no I needed to be closer. I snaked my hand from his cheek to the nape of his neck, holding him to me as his bruising kiss dragged me under.

  I’d heard it before; being so consumed that time seemed
to stand still, but I never experienced it until this moment. His hands roamed over my arms, my hips, my thighs and I couldn’t tell you how long it had been, because I was too concentrated on the feel of his calloused hands on my body, and his teeth nipping at my lips.

  His lips left mine and he trailed wet kisses along my jaw and down my neck while one of his palms snaked up to cup my breast. I gasped, enjoying the jolts of electricity coursing through my body. “Did you ever date him?” He asked as he bit my neck, and then smoothed his tongue over the spot to soothe it.

  His question didn’t register in my fogged mind. His kisses trailed from my neck and down the neckline of my dress, before he bit the skin right between my breasts. “I asked you a question. Did. You. Date. Him?”

  He punctuated each word with a smaller nip to the top of my breast that was exposed from the low neckline. I felt one of his hands snake under my dress, massaging my inner thigh with his thumb, so close to my panty line, yet not touching where I wanted him most. I tried to wiggle closer but he had me pinned tightly from hips to chest.

  He didn’t really give me a chance to answer before I felt his voice vibrate through his body as the temper he reined in earlier started to surface, “Answer me!”

  My heart sped up with a mixture of adrenaline and anticipation as his thumb slipped under my panties, just enough to tease me with the hope of more. “No. We’re just friends.” I whispered because my throat was so dry, it was all I could get out. God, I wanted this man, I was thirsty for him in ways I never knew imaginable.

  “You ever fuck him?” he asked calmly, his lips were on my breasts again sucking my nipples through the material, and I couldn’t do anything but breathe and hold his head tighter against me, praying that he never stopped.

  He bit my nipple hard and I screamed, more from pleasure than any real pain. “You didn’t answer me.”

  I shook my head, hoping to convey my answer but unable to voice it.

  “Say it.” His tone was harsh.

  “Never.” I panted as his thumb skimmed over my clit.

  His free hand came up and smoothed my hair down as he kissed the top of my head. “Good girl.” I wasn’t sure what to make of this side of Beck. He was dominant and he was gentle. If there ever was a more confusing oxymoron, I would have to see it with my own eyes because nothing compared to Beckett.

  His thumb swiped over my clit again and I was thankful his body was holding me up because I nearly crumbled to the floor. I had no clue what we were doing, how far we were taking this, all I knew was that I needed to touch him and feel him quiver under my fingers. I reached down, intent on undoing his pants, snaking my fingers inside, feeling his bare skin against mine.

  His hand caught both of mine in a quick move, pushing them up and pinning them against the wall above my head. “Please.” I whimpered, begging him to let me touch him, his one hand squeezed my wrist tighter as his thumb began to gently stroke, dipping in and out of my core, giving me a taste with no promise of fulfillment.

  “No. You don’t get to touch me.” He growled into my ear as his tongue darted out and licked the curve of it.

  I didn’t want to beg; I had a feeling begging would give him too much satisfaction and he already had me at his mercy. There was no way I was going to hand him over more power. His thumb went deeper and I had to fight with all my strength not to gasp.

  “He’s never touched you like this?” His voice whispered against my neck, the kisses suddenly so gentle I wasn’t sure if I was imagining them. I tilted my head, giving him greater access, while shaking it to tell him no. “Words. I need to hear your words, Lotus.”

  “No.” I rasped. “Never like this.”

  He pulled his head back and locked his eyes with mine. The hazel orbs more intense than I’d ever seen, and I knew that if there was ever a time to object, it would be now. But as much as I knew I shouldn’t want this, I did. Even though I knew I was destined for heartache and bound to crumble under his destruction, I wanted this. I wanted him.

  “Good.” He said under his breath, so faint I could hardly hear it. Not that it mattered because the moment his words registered, was the exact moment his mouth was on mine again, tasting, teasing, promising me more of what was to come. He removed his thumb from my channel and I whimpered at the loss. He chuckled, his lips curved into a smile against mine right before he shoved two fingers back into me, curving them slightly.

  My vision blurred.

  My breath caught.

  I’m pretty sure I heard music.

  If this was heaven, leave me here because I’d never felt anything quite like this.

  His first few strokes were slow, dragging in and out of me with such excruciating precision that each time his knuckles slid across my inner walls, I could do nothing but moan.

  “Have you been waiting for this, baby?” He asked, barely audible over the sounds he was drawing from my throat. I bit his lip in response, earning me a hard thrust of his fingers. Fuck, I was so close and the bastard knew it. He pulled his lips away from mine, breathing heavily.

  He pumped his fingers hard, one more time. “I asked a question.”

  If he wasn’t still holding my wrists above my head, I’m sure I would have already sunk to the ground, unable to hold my own weight. Just a few more strokes were all I needed, but if he stopped now, all this would be gone. There was no question about it. I would die.

  “Yes.” I whimpered, not because I wanted him to finish this, even though I did, but because it was the truth. Somewhere along the lines of our friendship, we crossed boundaries, and at this moment all I could think about was this had to be the only plausible outcome. Our paths were destined for this moment.

  He didn’t say anything in response, but suddenly, his pace picked up and I was gasping, moaning, screaming, pleading until my muscles contracted around him and I was lost in a jumble of pleasure and emotions I had never experienced.

  When I finally was able to breathe again, and I had enough energy to move my head from where it had fallen on his chest, he was beaming back at me with a smug smile. Agonizingly slowly, I felt his fingers pull out of me before watching as he brought them to his lips and sucked.

  My core clenched.

  Who would have thought that watching Beckett Fucking Cole suck my come off his fingers would be so damn hot?

  “Seeing you come, Blue Eyes, is the single fucking most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed in my whole fucking life, and still, that doesn’t even come close to how you taste on my tongue. “

  He let go of my hands and leaned over to give me a kiss, tangling his tongue with mine while he grabbed each of my thighs and lifted me off my feet, pushing his hips against me in a slow grind. I reached for the hem of his shirt, thankful that he no longer constricted my hands. I pulled the shirt over his head and he pulled away from my mouth just long enough to allow me to remove it completely, before sucking on my bottom lip again.

  My hands roamed over the planes of his chest, feeling the soft skin over his hard, granite muscles, which tensed and rippled under my touch. I raked my nails over his skin, taking pleasure in the rapid intake of breath and the small hisses it drew from him. Unbuttoning his jeans, I snaked my fingers past the elastic in his boxers, finding the hard length of his cock. I stroked it, watching as his head fell back and his breathing quickened.

  “You have to stop, baby. I…I can’t take your warm little hands on me.” He panted as he ran his hands from my knees, that were wrapped around his hips, all the way up to my thighs. He kept moving his hands upwards, bunching my dress until I lifted my arms up and he tossed it to the floor. He pulled back, staring at my breasts in awe a moment before bringing his hand up, rubbing his thumb against my nipple.

  “I knew they would be perfect.” He stated, moments before his mouth latched on to my skin. My nerves jolted with pleasure. I felt his hand grip my ass as he began to move us away from the wall. I didn’t care where as long as his lips never left my body.

  He sat m
e on the back of the couch and I felt a loss the moment his mouth left my nipple and started a trail of kisses back to my mouth. He captured my lips in his, dueling his tongue with mine in rough, possessive strokes while I used my hands to push his pants and boxers down his hips. He pulled away, kicking his jeans to the side and stood in front of me completely naked and utterly fucking glorious.

  Despite having his cock in my hands minutes before, I was completely unprepared for the visual of how big he actually was. His thick cock stretched up, curving toward his stomach with thick veins decorating the length. A stream of pre-cum ran down the head and I was tempted, so damn tempted, to lean over and taste him, but before I got the chance, he had dropped to his knees. His tongue trailed along my inner knee, following upwards toward my inner thigh, until he reached the junction of my legs.

  I heard him inhale deeply, and although I should have been embarrassed that Beckett …THE BECKETT FUCKING COLE … had his mouth mere centimeters from my pussy, I couldn’t bring myself to care. The moment he laid a kiss on the lace of my panties, and I felt the heat of his breath on my sensitive skin, I knew for sure this was the closest thing to pure ecstasy I would ever experience.

  Hooking his fingers into the lace, he trailed them slowly down my legs, letting the lace rub against my sensitive skin. Then I was naked, completely exposed and vulnerable to him. Trailing kisses back upward, he reached the apex of my thighs before using his hands to push my legs open wider. He looked up at me, watching me watch him, before he ran his tongue through my center, never taking his eyes off me.

  I gripped the edge of the couch, completely enthralled by the sight of his large body between my thighs, his arms snaking under my legs, his big hands holding them in place as his tongue lashed out in its brutal assault. He refused to look away, catching us in the midst of some sort of erotic staring contest, and hands down … he won. He could win every single time. I would let him because he was so fucking amazing with his tongue I could hardly remember to breathe.

 

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