Broken: Boxed Set

by Wilde, Leah

  I moaned softly. His taste never got old.

  He broke it off but kept his face close to mine. Up close, his eyes almost consumed my whole field of vision. I could see a thousand different shades of blue surfacing and submerging like dolphins frolicking in the oceans of his irises.

  “Took your sweet time coming home, didn’t ya?” he teased. He nipped at my nose.

  I shrieked and jerked my head away, laughing. “Well, if I’d known you were sitting around shirtless, maybe I would have hustled a little more,” I shot back with a grin. “Then again, maybe I should make you cover up. Can’t have all these local ladies thirsting after my man.”

  “I’ve been beatin’ away with a stick since the minute you walked out the door,” he joked. “I told him over and over, ‘I love Isabel!’ but they just won’t listen. Probably ’cause they don’t speak English.”

  “Mm, I can see how that would be a barrier. Wait, do me one favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Say again what you told them?”

  He smiled, sun-chapped lips splitting to reveal a row of glistening white teeth. “I told them, I love Isabel.”

  “Say it again.”

  “I love Isabel.”

  “One more time.”

  He stood suddenly, hoisting me into the air by my waist like a ballerina as he bellowed at the top of his lungs, “I love Isabel!” A flock of seagulls in the palm tree out front took wing, startled by the sudden outburst.

  I laughed, reveling in the words as I heard them again and again. That part would never get old, either. Dominic started to set me back down, but as he did, his leg failed beneath him and we both went tumbling to the ground. I landed on top of him. His body absorbed the worst of my fall, but I still managed to knock my elbow against the wooden slats of the porch. Pins and needles ricocheted along my forearm.

  Among all these sunshine and euphoria, it was easy to forget how little time had passed since everything we went through in Chicago. We were both trying to put it out of our minds, but sometimes our bodies refused to cooperate. Dominic was still battered and his left wrist was still encased in a makeshift plaster cast. The cuts riddling both of us would no doubt turn into scars that would last for a very long time. Ignoring the past was easy, but forgetting it was much harder.

  I scrambled to roll onto my knees next to him. His eyes were closed but his chest was rising and falling slowly. As I stroked the side of his face, his eyes fluttered open. Thank God.

  “Dom, are you alright?” I questioned anxiously.

  He looked at me steadily, not saying a word for a few long seconds. Then he gently cupped my chin in his hand and pulled me towards him for a light kiss. “Never better,” he whispered.

  I helped him back to his seat. He grimaced in pain and I could hear the creak of bones scraping together, but he managed to settle back in somewhat comfortably. I hovered in front of him, still worried that he reinjured his wrist or his knees.

  “I’m fine,” he said roughly, not looking at me.

  I grinned though the worry lingered. He wouldn’t admit he was in pain if his whole damn body was on fire. That was just how he was, though. I was going to have to get used to it. He pulled me back onto his lap and I sat lightly, careful not to press too much of my weight against his thigh, despite how strong and capable it felt beneath me.

  “Do you wanna eat?” I asked.

  He leaned forward and pressed his lips softly against the curve of my bare neck. “I’m sick of tacos,” he whispered.

  I pushed his chest away, annoyed. “Are you serious?” I squealed. “You were the one who said that’s what you wanted to eat!”

  He lurched to his feet again, scooping me up like a bride being carried over the threshold. “I’m just hungry for something else,” he said. He lunged inside and kicked the door shut behind him.

  “Oh yeah?” I retorted, barely suppressing a grin as he carried me through the small white living room and down the hall. “What might that be?”

  “Hmm, lemme get a taste and decide.” Entering the bedroom, he tossed me on top of the comforter and dove on top of me. His mouth found my collarbone while his right hand slid down my hip to my inner thigh where it was exposed below the hem of my simple cotton dress.

  “Oh, Dom,” I moaned as his fingers moved under my dress and began to stroke at my mound through the sheer fabric of my panties. His left hand slyly teased the straps of my dress off my shoulders and peeled back the top. Without a bra underneath, my breasts rose unheeded into the brown peak of my nipples. He shifted his mouth from one to the other and back again, suckling delicately. A delicious tremor passed through me.

  I encircled my arms around his back. He was brimming with muscle, and as my palms glided down his flanks, I could feel every fiber twitch and move beneath my touch. His scent filled my nose and the gentle downward pressure of his massive bulk on top of me was like a soothing blanket.

  I spread my thighs apart to let him explore further. Taking advantage of the extra room, he slid my panties to the side and ran a teasing finger from the bottom of my slit to the top, then back down again, before slowly slipping inside of me.

  I clenched reflexively for a moment. He stopped, pulled back, and looked at me. “Do you trust me?” he says.

  Did I? For starters, I hardly knew him. It hadn’t even been a month since I was a shivering wreck underneath the glare of spotlights, fodder for the highest bidder to use and abuse at their whim. Did I trust him? He bought me, fought for me, then came into a cell adorned with whips and chains and ravaged me.

  But in spite of all that, the answer was an unequivocal yes.

  I nodded my head. He smiled and leaned back down to kiss me hard on the mouth. Below, his fingers resumed their slow push inward. I groaned again as he started to stroke in and out of me while his thumb brushed against my clit.

  He brought me to the peak of a quick climax. It was amazing how easily I responded to his touch. It took hardly any effort before I was riding his hand, thrusting hard against his strokes before tumbling over the edge and basking in the warm, suffusing glow of an orgasm.

  I quickly unbuckled his jeans and pushed them down his hips. He kicked them off completely before clambering on the bed on top of me. I pushed his shoulders to encourage him to lie on his back. He let me, his head coming to rest on the pillows as I swung my leg over him and started to kiss my way down his chest.

  I licked and bit between his pecs, over the peaks and valleys of his abs, until I reached his throbbing member. Nipping at the crease of his hip, I began to pull on his cock with my right hand. A slow pump up and down drew from him a low, satisfied growl. He pushed his head back into the pillows and closed his eyes.

  Transferring my mouth to his tip, I licked leisurely from top to bottom, taking my time and keeping my gaze fixated on his twitching face. I loved this part, knowing that I could do to him something exactly like what he did to me. As I took his head between my lips and heard the growl increase in volume, I felt a shiver between my own legs.

  A steady bob of my wet mouth along his shaft while my two hands squeezed easily at the base of it added more strength to his groaning. He reached out to wind his fingers between the locks of my hair hanging around my head like a dark curtain.

  I increased the speed of my sucking and grinned on the inside as his moans kept pace with every slurp. After a few minutes, he leaned forward and pulled the back of my head towards him.

  His manhood was at ramrod attention as he gave me a deep kiss. Then he swung his legs off the bed and took to his feet. I lay back and let him peel the dress and panties off of my body. When I was naked before him, he paused.

  “You’re a fucking goddess, babe,” he said without smiling. He’d never been more serious. “I knew it the second I saw you. I had to have you.”

  “Is that so?” I murmured.

  He nodded. “There was no way I was letting you leave that place as anyone else’s. You were mine.”

  I let
my knees fall open, baring myself completely to his gaze. He drank me in. I could see the flame dancing in his pupils. It scared me and excited me at the same time, every bit as much as it did the first moment I laid eyes on him.

  He stooped to his knees and ran his tongue from my knee, up my thigh, to my hot center. Opening wide, he breathed heavily onto my pussy. The warm air felt incredible against my sensitive parts.

  He licked at the outer lips first, warming me up for the moment when his tongue plunged in to reach further, deeper, more. I squeezed a pillow with one hand and my breast in the other as he brushed his mouth along my opening. Tiny outbursts of sizzling sensation rippled beneath his touch. The speed of their exploding picked up as he did, keeping time with every lick, every nibble, until before I knew it I was on the threshold of coming again. This one was a little bit deeper than the last, a little more toe-curling. Moans escaped my mouth as I held onto the bed for support and let it wash over me.

  “I need you,” I mumbled as it started to ebb. “I need you inside me right now.”

  Dominic stood and lined his cock up with my tunnel. I closed my eyes and waited for the sudden thrust, the dramatic filling that I was craving so badly. But it didn’t come.

  I opened my eyes again and looked up to see him considering me oddly. “What is it?” I asked. Concern is replacing the heat that had just moments ago been raging in my core. “Is something wrong?”

  “I want to hear you say it,” he said.

  “Say what?” I asked, my brow knitted together in concern.

  “You know what to say.” He didn’t blink or budge. His member wavered just inches away from me, so close to giving me everything I needed and yet so far.

  I racked my brain, trying to think of what he wanted to hear. After all this time, what could be left unsaid? What needed repeating? Then it clicked. I looked at him, my eyes glistening with equal parts desire and love, as I told him exactly what he was looking for.

  “I’m all yours, Dominic,” I said. “Now and forever.”

  Those were the magic words. He slid into me, and everything was right in the world.

  THE END

  Brawn

  Chapter 1

  Paris

  “Excuse me, miss,” came a voice from behind me.

  I spun around too fast, startled by the sudden noise breaking my silence and concentration in what had otherwise been a quiet spring day in the park. As I spun, my long blonde hair whipped out in a huge arc and smacked the man who’d spoken right in the face.

  “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” I cried immediately.

  He held a hand over his eye where the ends of my hair had hit him. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he said, wincing but trying to hide it. “That’s what I get for sneaking up on you like that, anyway.” He sounded genuinely nice and apologetic, even though I was the one who’d caused his eye to sting and water like it was doing.

  “Here,” I said, fumbling in my purse for a tissue, “take this.” I handed it to him. I felt horrible, but he was right, he did sneak up on me. I’d been so fiercely concentrated on my biology textbook that I hadn’t even noticed him approaching me.

  The boy dabbed at his eye with the tissue I’d given him. I took the time to look him up and down. He was tall, with broad, muscular shoulders and a deep tan, like he spent a lot of time outdoors. He had the easy gait of an athlete, but whereas most of the athletes I knew had horrible skin from all that time spent sweating and running around in pads and helmets, his face was smooth and unblemished. A light beard covered his cheeks and jaw, trimmed neatly, and his eyes were a glistening green. He was, I had to admit, ridiculously hot.

  I saw his mouth move and realized he was talking. I blinked hard and refocused on what he was saying. Listen, Paris, I told myself. It was way too easy to get lost in how good looking he was. “I’m sorry, what?” I asked.

  “I said, there goes my smooth approach.” He tucked the tissue in his pocket and straightened up. He was well over six feet tall, enough to tower over me. I was only five feet three, so it wasn’t much of an accomplishment, but next to him, I felt tiny and fragile. He could break me in half if he wanted to, I would bet. All I had to do was look at his broad hands to confirm my suspicion.

  “I don’t get it,” I said. I immediately regretted my words. In the thirty seconds since he’d walked up to me, I’d hit him in the face, ignored the first thing he said, and completely failed to understand the second thing. This interaction was off to a fantastic start, if I could say so myself.

  He grinned, and I felt an immediate lurch in my stomach. I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised that he had the world’s most beautiful white teeth and a charming, crooked slant to his smile, the kind that was off-center but all the more perfect for its imperfections. I could swear that someone had sculpted this boy out of my dreams and sent him here to interrupt my cramming for exams. Not that I minded, of course.

  “Well, I hope I’m not being too forward or cheesy, but I was walking past and I saw you and I thought to myself, ‘Craig, if you don’t ask that beautiful girl out, you’re going to regret it forever.’”

  Oh, man, he was really putting on the charm now. His smile was cranked up to full blast, a million megawatts of beautiful man and confidence hotter than the sun. I shifted my weight nervously side to side. Noticing I was wringing my hands in front of me, I clamped down and held them in my lap.

  “Oh, well, um, thank you, that’s super nice of you. I don’t, uh, really know what to say…” I stuttered. I was fully aware that I sounded like a complete idiot, but the ability to talk like a rational adult human being seemed to have utterly abandoned me. I would have thought that eighteen years of life on this planet would be sufficient to get me through this situation, but it looked like I was dead wrong about that.

  Of course, like in most aspects of my life, my father was partly to blame. When a girl was cooped up under a father’s watchful eye and forbidden from dating at all, her social skills tended to suffer a bit as a result. Most girls would probably try to rebel, to carry on secret relationships or whatever they thought they might be able to get away with, but then again, most girls weren’t the daughter of the president of the Knives of Fury motorcycle club. Nope, there was only one girl in the world who fit that particular description, and it was the one stammering like a fool while the handsome, ripped boy in the park tried to ask her out on a date.

  “You say yes, of course,” he joked.

  I looked at his shirt and saw that I was right about the athlete thing. The words Property of UNM Athletics were stamped in bold white block print across the chest. Raising my eyes to meet his, I finally found my voice again.

  “I… I, I want to,” I said. “But I’ll have to…” My gaze fell and my voice dropped to a pitiful squeak. I couldn’t believe what I was about to say. “…I’ll have to ask my father,” I finished lamely.

  At the upper edge of my vision, I could see a confused cloud pass over his face. “Your father?” he repeated. “But you’re in college. How on earth do you still have to ask him for his permission to go on a date?”

  As soon as he saw how embarrassed I was, writhing in place in front of him, his eyes grew huge. “Oh, wow, I can’t believe I said that. That was so rude, I’m sorry. You’ll have to forgive me. Now I feel like an even bigger asshole than I did before.”

  “No, no,” I tried to say. I wanted to explain the situation to him, but how could I? I’d been dealing with President Tristan Jenison for my entire life, and even I could barely find the words to describe the situation to someone else.

  It’s not that he was a bad dad. He wasn’t, not at all. But ever since my mother had died…

  “He’s just protective,” I said simply. That was the easiest thing I could offer. It would have to do for now.

  “Gotcha,” Craig said. He was clearly flustered. I felt horrible. This conversation had started bad and only gotten worse since then. His calm poise had been dialed back somewhat. This was obviously
not the way he had expected this whole shebang to go, but I didn’t know what else to do.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to!” I said. “I do; I really do. You’re beautiful.” I clapped my hands over my mouth as the last sentence flew out unheeded. Just when I thought I’d found the rock bottom of social interaction, I managed to dig myself a little bit deeper. I could feel my cheeks burning. Was there a boulder somewhere nearby I could crawl under and die?

  Craig laughed, but his discomfort was growing by the minute. “Um, thanks,” he said. He ran a hand through his long, curly hair. God, it was a gorgeous mane, an unbelievable chestnut color that looked flawless against his tanned skin. I saw his eyes flitting around like he was searching for an exit.