Respect (The Breaking Point Book 3)

by Jay Crownover

  Eventually his stillness came to an end and he started lifting his hips in time with the rhythm I set. He was achingly careful not to shove his incredible length too far down my throat. I was already fighting the urge to gag, he was so big and taking up so much space, but I sort of loved the violation and the work it took to bring him pleasure. His hands were nowhere near the parts of me that were aching for him, but I was already wet. I could feel the moisture as my thighs rubbed together when I settled more fully on top of him.

  “Karsen.” It was something between a question and a plea. He had sweat beaded up at his temples and there were lines of strain from his restraint bracketing his eyes and his mouth. His hands tightened painfully in my hair, tugging the strands as I used the tip of my tongue to play with his leaking slit. A burst of precum slid across my tongue, telling me he was close and waking all my taste buds to the flavor of him.

  He groaned and his hips kicked up off the mattress with more force. He immediately apologized and tried to pull away but I wouldn’t let him. Instead, I braced myself and put my hands on his hips, urging him upward, letting him fuck my face the way he’d been fighting not to since he woke up.

  “Ahhh . . . I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice was thin and there was a desperate shake threaded throughout it.

  I swirled my tongue all around his cock, licking him like he was a melting ice cream cone and I didn’t want to miss a single drop. I sat up for a second and used my thumb to rub circles around the tiny v that was funneling shiny precum down the underside of his cock. I loved the way the muscles in his thighs quivered at my touch.

  “You won’t. I trust you.” I did. I was as shocked as he looked when the words popped out. He’d done his very best to see to it that the last thing I would ever do is trust him with my heart or my body, but here we were. I was more than willing to put my body in his more than capable hands; my heart was another story. One I wasn’t ready to think about just yet.

  I ducked my head and pulled him back into my mouth. I lightly raked my nails up and down the inside of his thighs, feeling the way his big body shook and shuddered as I did so. His cock pulsed in my mouth, spreading moisture across my tongue and along the roof of my mouth. His first thrust was hesitant and controlled. His hands returning to tangle in my hair as he let me set the initial pace.

  It wasn’t until I got my hands on that secret, tender place between his legs that he lost all semblance of restraint. As soon as I had his warm, soft sac in my palm, applying the lightest bit of pressure, his hips started to rock off the bed, pushing deeper into my mouth, filling me with what felt like miles and miles of unyielding flesh. He moaned my name, knees bending as I settled between them, doing my best to take everything he had to give. His tip hit the back of my throat and for a second I forgot to breathe. He must have sensed I was struggling because he immediately backed off. It was his effortless consideration that turned me inside out. I moaned loudly around the cock stuffed between my lips and pressed down, letting him know I was good, this was good. I loved being in charge of bringing him pleasure. It was something I’d dreamed of doing long before I knew how potent and powerful it could make a woman feel.

  It didn’t take long for me to get my gag reflex under control and to let him push past the resistance in my throat. I swallowed him all the way down and watched in delight as the move had his eyes rolling back in his head. He didn’t last long after that. In a rush, I felt his cock kick and his entire body vibrate as he exploded down the back of my throat, my name tumbling from his lips on a growl. It was a practiced sound, one that made me realize he said my name before when he was on the brink of flying apart. This might be the only time I was in the same room to hear it, but it wasn’t a foreign phrase to him.

  It was filthy and so fucking hot that my hands immediately shot to where I was dripping wet between my legs. I was so turned on, I could feel it under my fingers. All it would take was a single stroke of my fingers, a slide across my clit and I would come apart. But I didn’t want that. I was having too much fun drawing out every second of Booker’s pleasure. Our entire relationship circled around him being the one in charge, him being the one who decided how close I could get and how much of himself he would let me have. In this moment, I was the one calling the shots. I was the one in complete control. I owned his body and his pleasure. I was the boss, and the fact he was letting me do with him what I wanted, that he let me handle him while he was pliant and vulnerable under my mouth and hands, did more to settle me and guide me toward the future than four years of college had. I craved this kind of power over him, and over other wild, dangerous things that refused to be tamed.

  I released him with a pop, which quickly turned into a startled yelp as strong hands circled my waist and effortlessly lifted me up, dragging me up and over his chest until I was straddling his dark head where it rested on the pillow. Blue-gray eyes blazed up at me, as his calloused hands skated up the outside of my thighs. It was my turn to shiver and shake.

  He arched an eyebrow up at me, and nothing but pure, wicked intent showed on his face.

  “Hold on.” It was part promise, part threat, and part warning of what was about to come. It was all sex and satisfaction.

  I put my hands flat on the wall in front of me and closed my eyes. I felt the first swipe of his tongue as it swept through the damp folds he used his fingers to separate. I was open to his avid gaze and his probing tongue. I felt every swirl and lick rush through my body. My nerves were tingling, and my skin felt like it was a size too small. I quivered where I hovered over him, and mindlessly rode his face as his tongue fucked into me and his hands played all of my most sensitive places. It was sensation overload, making my body hum and my mind numb to everything but pleasure.

  When the sharp edge of his teeth dragged over my clit, I was done for. I was already turned on beyond belief from having him in my mouth, so my fuse was already incredibly short. I threw my head back and shouted his name at the ceiling as I came apart under the onslaught of his teeth and tongue. I shuddered as my orgasm worked its way out from the center of my body toward my fingers and toes. There wasn’t a single part of me that didn’t experience a warm rush of satisfaction.

  I felt his hands glide over the curve of my ass and the bite of his teeth into the soft skin of my inner thigh. The scrape of his stubble was rough against that sensitive skin and it brought on a whole-body shiver. I was going to have beard burn in some very interesting places. I heard him suck and knew he was marking me in the place only a lover would ever see.

  I toppled to the side, arms tossed outward, chest heaving. Booker propped himself up next to me, head resting in his hand as he braced himself on an elbow. His lips touched my cheek.

  “Not sure what brought that about, but that was singlehandedly the best wake-up call I’ve ever gotten.” He rubbed his free hand over his naked chest and his eyes widened when he noticed it was morning. “Holy shit. I slept through the night.”

  I lifted a hand and rubbed my fingers through the prickly hair covering his face. “You did. You had something chasing you in your sleep early this morning, though. I decided whatever it was couldn’t have you so I needed to save you from whatever hides in your darkness.”

  His gaze glinted down at me and a grin hitched up one side of his mouth. “You’re gonna go head to head with all my demons?” He looked away for a second and his eyes were serious when they once again found mine. “I’ve been fighting them all my life and all it’s ever gotten me is a lot of sleepless nights.”

  I sighed and moved my hand so I could use my fingers to trace the stern line of his mouth. “Maybe they know you’re coming for them so they’re ready for you. They have no idea I’m on the way. They won’t have time to hide from me.”

  He reached out and snagged a piece of hair sticking to my cheek. He rubbed the strands between his fingers and his face softened into an expression I’d never seen him wear before. If I didn't know any better I would say it was adoration.

&nb
sp; “If anyone is strong enough to take them on, it's you. They’ve had a lifetime to take hold. I don’t think shaking them loose is going to be easy. Nothing about me will ever be easy.”

  I sighed and snuggled into the curve of his body as he pulled me forward. “If they aren't going anywhere, maybe it’s time to stop fighting them and learn to live with them instead. Living in the Point you should know, it’s possible to coexist with the things that feel like they’re going to shred us to pieces.”

  He grunted but didn't disagree with me. Instead, his lip brushed the top of my head and he told me he was going to take a shower. Since we were both wide awake, he mumbled something about burning daylight and getting back on the road. I knew he was changing the subject and walking away from the heavy conversation, but I let him go.

  I spread out across the bed, mind drifting to the future.

  I was used to not knowing where I was going or how I was getting there. Going back to the Point was always my super-secret desire that I wouldn’t share with anyone. Partly because I was worried my sister and Race would be so disappointed in me if I didn’t end up somewhere better, even though they’d both sacrificed so much to turn the city I loved into a place that was safe enough for me to return. I also didn’t want to admit that home was where my heart was; didn’t want to admit it was that because of the man in the next room. It felt like weakness to run back after what he’d done, and I never wanted to show just how deeply his betrayal had scarred.

  Now I had so many questions swirling around unanswered. About what really went down that night and how independent I'd really been allowed to be since leaving. I was wondering why going back to the Point suddenly didn't feel like the security blanket it had always been.

  No, returning home felt more like returning to the scene of a crime. I needed to go back because I needed answers, and I wanted to see all the impressive changes Booker mentioned. I needed both my sister and Race to come clean with me, because I was starting to see, as supportive as they’d both always been, they also had an agenda. I knew no one ever went against what Race wanted. He was willing to move heaven and Earth to make sure things played out according to his script and his dictates.

  I no longer felt like my life was over if I decided not to stay in the Point after the wedding and the reckoning I could feel coming. Booker’s story about his tragic childhood forced me to see the world was a really big place, and the Point no longer needed me. Four years of absence and all that had apparently changed had proven that to me. All the changes the people who loved it had made, all the battles fought and won for a better way of life, they were necessary. But those same kinds of fights needed to be fought in other places. There were so many communities failing and falling into despair because they didn’t have the people in them the Point did.

  Saving one crumbling city was all well and good . . . but why couldn’t someone who knew what they were doing save them all?

  Booker

  I was extra cautious when we left the motel that morning. I drove an hour out of the way, backtracked, and then sped through the town where we’d spent the night. It was a ridiculous route and I made note of every single car we passed. I knew if I saw the same make and model more than once, the likelihood that we were being followed was high. Karsen and I systematically picked through the rest of her belongings looking for another tracking device, but we didn’t find anything. As we drove, I got madder at myself. I was pissed for reacting with my gut and merely disassembling the device instead of planting it on another car headed the opposite direction. It was a rookie mistake, one I shouldn’t have made. When it came to Karsen, I always acted on instinct first and tended to regret things later on. My brain definitely ended up third in line behind my heart and dick when it came to making decisions where she was concerned.

  Not that I was ever going to regret getting to hold her through the night. Or getting to know how she tasted and felt as she unraveled against my tongue. I would never lament knowing the way her eyes deepened to rich, beautiful espresso when she hovered right on the edge of an orgasm. And I would never, ever forget the way she said my name like it, like I, was something special as she drifted off to sleep, head tucked under my chin, hand resting on my heart. She was dead-on about it being the best memory I would ever have. The only problem was now that we’d created something so unforgettable together, I didn't know how I was supposed to go back to living my life pretending I didn’t know there could be kindness and softness out there, even for someone as fucked up as I was.

  Love and respect went hand in hand, and I would never have either from her if I didn’t stop letting the experiences from my past define the man I was going to be from here on out.

  With a new resolve to look forward instead of backward in place, I pushed us through to Seattle and worked us down the coast. There were no more run-ins with mysterious cars and blending into the city proved to be extremely easy. We stopped for a late lunch on the Sound and then drove down to Portland. I pulled over at a busy rest stop so we could figure out our next move.

  My plan was to drive through the night to Reno. It was completely out of the way and anyone following us would be totally thrown off by our route turning back toward the east. Selfishly, I knew it would also give us one more night together before I had to hand her over to the man who nearly destroyed us both in order to set her free.

  Karsen grumbled about the added hours, knowing we could hit the Point by tomorrow night if we just kept heading south on the highway. It would mean switching off drivers, giving both of us a chance to snooze while the other handled the driving. I didn’t like it, would much rather have zig-zagged for another day, but I could see being in the car so close to home was starting to wear on her. She didn’t seem nearly as anxious or as excited as she had been initially about returning to the Point. Now, there was a steely resolve and some sort of determination I couldn’t quite figure out fueling her desire to get back as quickly as possible.

  Reluctantly, I agreed to the straight shot down the coast. I was rewarded with a squeal and a smacking kiss for my weakness where she was concerned. I wrapped my arms around her, operating on reflex, when her body slammed into mine. However, I was stunned stupid and unable to return the excited kiss. When Karsen pulled back and scowled up at me in confusion, I squeezed her and told her numbly, “No one has ever really initiated affection toward me in public before.” In that moment, I realized exactly how pathetic that sounded. She gaped at me in shock as I shook my head to clear out the slippery cobwebs of tangled memories I no longer wanted to be stuck in. “I’ve never held anyone’s hand. I’ve never had anyone kiss me in front of other people the way you just did. People don’t even like to look at me, Karsen. Let alone touch me.” And I knew it wasn’t entirely due to the scar that mangled one side of my face. When you were built like a beast and carried death around in your eyes, people instinctively gave you a wide berth. It was their self-preservation instincts kicking in the same way they did when around any wild animal. Predators were unpredictable.

  Her scowl deepened and she looked like she was ready to take on the entire world on my behalf. I could fight, I had to in order to survive, but Karsen was a fighter. It was ingrained in her, threaded throughout the very fiber of her being. I knew how to hurt people, she knew how to heal them by never giving up and never giving in when she believed in someone.

  “Touch is a basic human need, Booker.” She ran the back of her hand over my ravaged cheek and leaned up on the tips of her toes so she could put tiny kisses all up and down the silvery length.

  I grunted and ran my hand up her back. “The only person whose touch I ever needed was yours. The rest I could have done without.” Her touch made me feel like a man, not a monster, not a machine. All the other hands that had been on me made me feel like I was nothing. Literally, I was no more than pile of skin and bones with no heart or soul inside.

  She nodded briskly like she understood exactly what I meant and patted me on the shoulders, which se
emed so ridiculous I couldn’t help but grin. It was like someone petting a wolf in order to calm it down and get it to behave.

  “Let me drive while we still have daylight. If anything happens I’d rather not be trying to outrun another car in the dark. I’ll leave that to you. You can catch a few hours of sleep and we’ll switch off when we cross into the next state.” She kissed me again, this time a peck on the tip of my nose and her eyes melted into a golden, chocolate swirl so soft and warm it made my heart lurch painfully inside my chest. “And I want you to know I love touching you, Booker. You’re going to have to fight to keep my hands off you. I would want everyone who sees us together to know you are mine and I am yours, and there will never be any question whether or not I think you are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

  She flounced away around the front of the car with a sassy swish of swaying hair and a strut that made my mouth go dry. There were a lot of things I really loved about grownup Karsen Carter, but the undeniable confidence and self-assuredness she now possessed was at the very top of the list. It was like she finally realized she really was meant for greatness. People hadn’t been blowing smoke up her ass in order to placate her. Watching her own her independence and individuality made my dick almost as hard as watching those long legs of hers carry her like she was perpetually walking a runway.

  I threw my head back and looked up at the sky, as if the clouds and endlessly blue expanse had the answers for questions I couldn’t ask. I wanted nothing more than to be hers and to tell her she had always been mine, but there were so many obstacles in the way. I couldn’t see a clear path to either of us getting to that point. Normally, I just ran right over whatever was standing in my way, but if I did that this time, I had no doubt I would lose her forever. There was no way to win this game, not when Race was holding all the cards. But that didn’t stop me from imagining what it would be like to have her hands on me all the time. I wanted to be claimed like that. I wanted someone to be proud of being with me. It was asking a lot, considering I couldn’t even stand my own company half the time.