Let Me Love You: Beautifully Broken Book 1

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Let Me Love You: Beautifully Broken Book 1 Page 24

by Samantha Wolfe


  "Fuck, yes," I growled with desperation. She pulled me back into her mouth and started moving her head up and down faster this time, grazing her teeth across the edge of the head and pausing now and again to bite gently down on my shaft. Shivers of pleasure traveled through my body as the pressure of my approaching orgasm rose higher and higher. "Just like that, Sydney, just like that," I whispered as she hummed in pleasure against me, the vibrations sending waves of heat up my body. My hips starting pumping up to her, meeting each of her thrusts with my own. "I'm close, baby. So fucking close," I moaned. She groaned against me and sucked harder, shafting me with every thrust.

  "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I started chanting, as electric waves of pleasure shot up my spine, spiraling up and up until everything let loose in an explosive shock as my cock started jerking in Sydney's mouth. She kept sucking on me, swallowing down everything I gave her, moaning her pleasure with soft sounds of delight. My hips pumped up to her as I shouted her name, my body arching back and my hands reaching for her. She grabbed my hands and laced our fingers together, holding them tightly as I rode out the rest of my climax into sweet oblivion. When I came back to earth and looked down at Sydney, she was licking my cock clean with gentle licks and little hums of contentment until I was soft again. She looked up at me and smiled.

  "Feel better?" she asked, her voice husky and warm. I nodded wordlessly and grabbed her under her arms and dragged her up into my lap. I stared at her with awe for a moment and then grabbed the hair on the back of her neck and crushed my lips to hers, pressing her body back onto the couch. She opened her mouth to me with a sweet sigh, and I kissed her long and hard, tasting myself as I explored her mouth with my tongue. I pulled away and brushed her hair from her forehead, staring back at those beautiful eyes, seeing so much love and acceptance there that I could barely breathe.

  "I love you, Jensen Hayes," she whispered as she ran her fingers softly down the side of my face. The words slammed into me with a jolt of pleasure, and I gasped at the sensation.

  "I love you, Sydney Harper," I whispered back to her breathlessly. Then I hugged her tightly against me in an almost desperate attempt to hold on to her forever, realizing now that I had so very much to lose.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Sydney

  "I can't breathe," I mumbled under Jensen's shoulder as he crushed me against his chest with strong arms, his body on top of me on the couch.

  "Sorry, baby," he replied as he let me go immediately. His face was calm again, the lost emptiness that had been in his eyes a short while ago was finally gone. He cradled my face between warm hands and gazed at me with so much emotion that I almost wanted to look away. "How do you do that?" he asked incredulously.

  "Do what?" I asked, having no idea what he was talking about.

  "Always know what's going on in my head?"

  "I don't know," I said quietly. "I just do."

  He kissed me fiercely and pulled back to look at me again. "Thank God for you," he mumbled beneath his breath, and started kissing his way from my face down to my neck. A shiver ran through me, and a warm ache throbbed between my legs. I moaned with need as he gently bit the skin where my neck met my shoulder, my hips thrusting toward him unconsciously.

  "Jensen," I whimpered.

  "What do you need, baby?" he asked against my skin, his voice low and sensual. "Do you want to come?"

  "Yes," I whispered in desperation, rubbing myself shamelessly against his thigh where it rested between my legs.

  "Don't worry. I'll take care of you."

  He unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans slowly, then slid his hand down into my panties, and groaned when he felt how wet I was. For once, he didn't tease me or make me wait. His fingers found my clit, and he pressed down gently, swirling in small circles over it. My orgasm started building immediately, the rising pressure feeling so good all over. I hummed in pleasure and he kissed me again, answering me with hums of his own as he sucked on my lower lip. He pulled back and looked down at me.

  "Come, baby. Come, now," he whispered and my body gave it to him. My breath caught for a beat, and then the orgasm exploded out from my core, igniting me from the inside out. We locked eyes, and I watched him smile at me as I fell apart in his arms, his joy at my pleasure so real and raw it amazed me. I came back down panting and shuddering against him uncontrollably.

  "Feel better?" he asked me, still smiling as he nuzzled my nose with his.

  "Oh, yes," I whispered. "Much better."

  He rolled over onto his back until I was draped face down across his body, my head resting just below his chin. He wrapped his arms around me and caressed gentle fingers through my hair. I sighed in contentment and let myself drift in the afterglow of my climax. A little while later, I lifted my head to look at Jensen and found him fast asleep, his breathing smooth and even, his face relaxed. I smiled; it was nice to see him this way, his face looking so young and vulnerable, no pain there at all. I carefully eased myself off of him without waking him up, and stood next to the couch. He mumbled in his sleep, rolled to his side, and relaxed back into sleep. My stomach suddenly growled, and I looked towards the wall clock to see that it was almost five o'clock. If I was hungry, Jensen would be starving when he woke up.

  I went into the kitchen to scope out what he had for food. It didn't take long to realize Jensen had next to nothing to turn into a meal, unless you wanted to eat condiments for dinner. I sighed. Leave it to a man to have nothing to eat in his own place. I remembered which drawer that he kept his take-out menus. The drawer was full. Apparently, he ordered take-out a lot, and I was starting to question his self-professed cooking skills. I found a sandwich place that delivered and quietly placed an order for us, then walked back to the living room. Jensen was still asleep, and I let him stay that way. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night, even before his nightmare woke him up, and I hadn't slept at all after that. A sudden wave of fatigue fell on me. I still had a half hour until the food showed up, so I crawled back onto the couch, pressing my back against Jensen's chest. He pulled me into his arms in his sleep and buried his face in my hair with a deep sigh. I let the warm security of his embrace lull me into sleep with him, feeling safe and loved. The next thing I knew, I was jolted awake by the doorbell. Jensen startled behind me and clutched me tighter against himself.

  "Who the fuck is that?" he mumbled sleepily.

  "That's for me," I answered as I wriggled out from his embrace. I grabbed my wallet out of my purse that I had left on the coffee table and headed down the stairs to the foyer. "I'll be right back." I smiled over my shoulder at his bewildered expression. I came back a few moments later with a bag and two drinks. His eyes lit up as he saw what I was carrying.

  "You are an angel," he said through a grin as he sat up on the sofa. "I'm fucking starving."

  "I know," I said sweetly. "You are one lucky bastard."

  "Don't I know it," he replied.

  "Come on. Let's go eat in the kitchen like normal human beings."

  He laughed and stood up to follow me into the kitchen. It was a relief to see his mood improved from earlier. I had honed in on his distress the moment that I had hugged Lauren. His face had changed into that blank mask he got when he was trying to pretend he was fine, but his clenched jaw gave him away every time. He still didn't want to show any weakness around me, and I wished he would get over that. I had never once thought of him as weak. The fact that he was still able to function at all most of the time was a testament to that fact. I had gone through periods of time where I literally couldn't leave my bed for days at a time. If I hadn't had my sister, I don't think I would be here right now. Jensen had had no one until I came along. His family and friends had no idea how bad things had gotten for him, and he didn't seem to want them to know. Didn't he realize they were the people who could help him the most?

  We sat at the kitchen table, and I pulled two sandwiches out of the bag, handing both to Jensen. I got the last one out for myself, and we started eating in silence. I had
never really push him into talking about his problems yet, out of fear of upsetting him. I was beginning to wonder if that was the wrong path to take. Maybe a push was what he needed. I watched him inhale his sandwiches and considered what I would say to start that conversation without pushing him away or having him shut down on me. He looked up, met my eyes, and flashed his most devastating smile at me. I felt the shiver I always got from that smile run up my spine.

  "You look very serious right now, baby," he said, his eyes starting to look concerned. "What are you thinking about?" Here was my opportunity to say something, if I could just work up the courage to do it. What kind of future did we have if he never got better because I didn't push him? How could he if I just sat waiting for him to say something on his own, and he never did?

  "I...I wish you would talk to me," I told him quietly, my heart pounding anxiously.

  "I'm talking to you right now, aren't I?" he said with a confused look on his a face.

  "Yes, but I wish you would tell me how you're feeling and about what happened to you." I felt stinging in my eyes from unshed tears as I spoke to him, my voice starting to break. "I just feel so helpless and in the dark."

  He suddenly looked terrified. He opened his mouth as if to speak, and then snapped it shut again. His eyes looked far away as he seemed to stare through me, terror morphing into pain and sorrow in his eyes. I watched his jaw clench, and his eyes close as he tried to fight it. Jensen started taking deep breaths in and out of his nose, his hands trembling uncontrollably as his half eaten sandwich fell from his fingers. I started to panic, a hard knot twisting in my stomach as I watched him. Fuck, what had I done?

  "I'm broken," he whispered so quietly that I almost missed it. "I feel so fucking broken," he continued, is voice breaking. His eyes were still closed, and his hands clenched into fists on the table. I sat in shock at his confession, the tears starting to fall from my eyes. "I watched...I watched Jordan...watched him die," he said between gasping breaths, his entire body shaking now.

  Oh my God. I was speechless as I rose from the table and went to him, needing to comfort him, to touch him. As soon as I touched his face, he stood abruptly, pushing his chair back from the table. He started shaking his head, the fear and panic filling his face again as he backed away from me. I stopped immediately and let my hands fall back to my sides. "I can't...I can't..." he mumbled and started pulling at the hair on the sides of his head, his eyes wild and unfocused.

  "Jensen," I sobbed. "Come back to me." I reached out to him again. When my fingers touched his chest, he jerked away from me as stark terror flooded his eyes. He turned and fled the kitchen. I watched him disappear down the hallway and felt a flood of guilt overwhelm me. I caused that. I triggered his panic attack. I covered my face with my hands and sobbed; my entire body wracked with guilt. I sat back down in my chair and lost it completely, my tears blurring my vision and stuffing up my nose. Why had I thought pushing him would be a good idea? Why couldn't I just leave it alone? How had I helped him at all? I cried and cried. It had been a long time since I had felt this horrible about something I had done to someone I loved. I had almost forgotten how awful it felt.

  As I cried I kept hoping he'd come back to the kitchen. I was afraid to go after him, in case I made it worse, but after a while I started worrying about him. I knew he hadn't left the apartment, but what if he hurt himself. He hadn't seemed aware of the difference between what was real and what was going on in his head. I finally stopped crying enough to listen and heard nothing but silence, which worried me almost more than yelling or screaming would have. Shit, I couldn't sit here feeling sorry for myself, not when Jensen might need me. I'd just have to be more careful this time.

  I rose from my chair and walked out into the living room, wiping tears from my face with my fingers. The room was empty, so I went upstairs to look for him. I walked into his room slowly. The sun was setting, and it took my eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness. His head was just visible above the other side of the bed where he was sitting on the floor. I could hear his heavy breathing as I walked around the bed to him. His back was to the bed, and his knees were bent up, his hands covering his face. His body was still trembling, and his shoulders were rising and falling with his hard breathing. I eased myself down to the floor next to him without actually touching him and just sat there. I still wasn't sure what I should do for him. I wasn't even sure he realized I was there next to him.

  "Baby?" I whispered, unsure if talking to him was a good idea, but I didn't know what else to do. He didn't respond. "Jensen?" I said, louder this time. He gasped and lifted his face from his hands.

  "I tried...I tried," he whispered and started shaking his head. He still didn't looked at me.

  "Tried what, baby?" I asked him, fighting the urge to wrap my arms around him.

  "Talking," he answered. "But I can't do it, can't stop from going crazy when I try. It feels like I'm dying, like I can't breath."

  "Oh, baby," I replied. "You're not going crazy or dying. It's a panic attack."

  "I know, but..." His voice trailed off.

  "It's hard to be objective about it, when it feels like someone's crushing your chest, huh?" I asked him, wondering if it was safe to touch him again. He nodded still staring straight ahead. I scooted a little closer, but not touching him.

  "I'm sorry," he whispered and finally turned his face toward me. His eyes were haunted and full of sadness as he looked at me.

  "For what? I'm the one who should be apologizing to you."

  "I'm...just not strong like you," He turned away again, but not before I saw the shame in his eyes. I closed my eyes and fought not to start crying again. He thought he was weak because he couldn't control it, and it broke my heart because I had never thought that once.

  "No," I said vehemently. "You are not weak." He looked at me with a stunned expression. "You are the strongest person I know. You get up everyday and still find a way to function. I spent weeks in my bed unable to move when I was like this. I'm astounded by you and amazed."

  "I wish I could believe that," he whispered as he looked away and hung his head down. I scooted even closer until our hips and legs were touching. He didn't recoil from my touch, so I leaned my head on his shoulder.

  "You are not fucking weak," I repeated with more force to my words. Damn it, maybe if I said it enough times, he would finally believe it. He closed his eyes and released a long shuddering breath. Then he rolled onto his side next to me and laid his head in my lap as I straightened out my legs. He placed a hand gently on my leg next to his face. I began running my fingers through his hair, giving him the comfort he was seeking, but was unable to ask for. I could still see tension around his eyes and mouth as I watched him stare straight ahead. His breathing started to ease back down to normal, and he finally closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm so sorry that I pushed you. I told you that I'd wait until you were ready and look what I did," I said, my voice thick with remorse as I continued caressing him. I felt hot tears start falling down my cheeks again. He turned his head toward me, his face softening as he looked at me. He sat up suddenly and pulled me into his lap.

  "Baby, it's alright," he said as he hugged me tightly against himself.

  "No, it's not," I sobbed against his chest. "I wanted to help you, not send you running away from me in a fucking panic." I felt him take in a deep breath and let it out in a rush.

  "We are one hot fucking mess aren't we?" he whispered with a shake of his head.

  "Yes, we are," I said still sobbing. "That's why we belong together." He nodded and kissed my temple, his lips soft and warm on my skin. His head slumped down onto mine, and we just held each other while I cried. Several minutes passed before Jensen spoke.

  "I'm so tired, Sydney. What do you say we get into the bed and sleep for awhile?"

  "Okay," I answered him as my tears finally stopped. I felt drained and exhausted. A nap sounded wonderful. He stood up taking me with him, setting me on my feet in front of him. He pushed me do
wn to sit on the edge of the bed, then knelt to take my boots off. I had come upstairs to help him, and here it had gotten turned around until he was taking care of me again. "You take such good care of me," I told him with a soft smile. He looked up from where he was untying my laces and returned my smile with one that nearly stopped my heart with the affection I saw in his eyes.

  "You deserve to be taken care of," he said matter-of-factly and continued removing my boots. When he was done, he stripped me down to only my panties. Then he pulled back the blankets for me, and I crawled under them gratefully. He pulled off his own boots, stripped down to his boxers, and crawled in next to me. Jensen pulled me close with my back against his chest and wrapped his arms around me. He sighed deeply and squeezed me tight. "I love you, baby," he whispered, and I smiled as I started drifting off to sleep almost immediately.

  "Love you, too," I mumbled and fell asleep a few moments later.

  I woke up in what felt like only seconds to find myself in the dark. I reached over to find that I was alone in the bed, and a surge of panic made me sit up.

  "Jensen?" I called out to him, feeling disoriented.

  "I'm here, Sydney," he answered, and I watched him walk through the doorway to his room. "Just cleaning up and turning out the lights for the night." He crossed the room, put his phone down on the nightstand, and climbed onto the bed.

  "What time is it?"

  "It's almost midnight. I just woke up a few minutes ago," he said as he lay down on his back beneath the covers, and I curled up against him.

  "Wow, it only felt like I was asleep for a little while."

  "Me too," he agreed as he rubbed my arm softly. "When do you need to be at work tomorrow?"

  "Eight o'clock."

  "Perfect. I set the alarm for six."

  I put my leg over his and started tracing my fingertips across the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen. I pressed a kiss to his shoulder and looked up at his face in profile, just able to make it out in the dim light from an outside streetlight. I'd never get tired of admiring his beauty. I reached up, caressing my fingers down the side of his face, and he sighed at my touch. I ran my fingers across his lips, and he kissed my fingertips, sucking one of them into his mouth and rolling his tongue around it. I gasped at the sensation and with a sudden flurry of motion, I found myself on my back with Jensen lying half on top of me, one of his legs moving my thighs apart and resting between them.

 

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