Unraveled- 8 Delicious Tale of Passion

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Unraveled- 8 Delicious Tale of Passion Page 31

by Fawkes, Sara


  But what he would do was blame himself for leaving me in the first place. And I wasn’t going to

  place that guilt on his shoulders. What had happened to me was the fault of no one but the two

  bastards who had carried out the deed. It wasn’t even my fault, even though I’d put myself in one hell

  of a vulnerable position by being angry, disappointed and drunk.

  It had taken me nearly a year and a half to understand that—that I didn’t carry the blame, despite

  my own stupidity. That I didn’t have to feel guilty. I didn’t want to pass any of that guilt on to Mal.

  So no, I wouldn’t tell him. But I could give him something else—I could give him the trust that I’d

  held so closely to me for years now.

  With Mal I could be normal. I thought maybe I could with Dorian too, but this moment felt right,

  so I made my decision.

  I was going to start taking my life, my sexuality, everything that made me a woman back right

  now.

  “Malachi.” I said his name slowly, savouring the feel of it on my tongue. I’d always loved his

  name, loved the way it rolled off my tongue.

  It had been so long since I’d allowed myself to say it, so I said it again, and watched his eyes

  darken.

  “Adele.” His voice was tight with obvious need, need that he was holding back for me.

  I didn’t want him to hold it back even more. I was going to dive in, head first.

  Rising to my toes, I braced my hands on his shoulders, then pressed a kiss to his jaw. I felt him

  drawn up tight against me, quivering like a bow.

  I pressed another kiss to that glove tender skin, and then another.

  “Adele.” Malachi’s voice was strained, and I looked down to see his fists clenched. “Are you sure

  —I mean, I don’t know if I—”

  His voice broke off when I tangled my hands in his hair and brought his mouth down to my own.

  This wasn’t the butterfly light brush of lips that Dorian had teased me with earlier. This was a

  demand that he open for me, that he let me in.

  I needed him to let me in, because if I couldn’t go here with Mal, then there wasn’t anyone else

  who could help me.

  “Adele.” Mal groaned against my lips. I ran my tongue over his mouth, then in between his teeth

  when he parted his lips.

  The thrust of his tongue against my own was like velvet steel, stroking my banked excitement to

  full flame. The memory of his taste merged with what was happening right in that moment,

  intensifying the sensation until my knees began to tremble.

  “Adele.” Breathless, Mal pulled back, his hands sliding down to clasp my waist and hold me tight.

  Pressing his forehead to mine so I had no choice but to look right at him, he exhaled deeply.

  “I need you to say the words. I need you to tell me that you want this, that you trust I won’t hurt

  you.”

  I froze for a moment, my body turning to a block of ice. How did he know? I hadn’t told him. Who

  had?

  Had he seen those pictures on Facebook? It made sense—everyone else had. The tattoos that

  sleeved my arms made it easy to tell that it was me, photographed and plastered on the internet for

  eternity.

  He shook his head, his forehead still pressed to my own.

  “I don’t know what happened to change you, Adele, but I still know you well enough to know that

  something almost broke you.” Hearing my shame spoken out loud, I began to tremble. “You’re strong,

  so strong, and I promise that this time I’ll cherish you. I’ll savor you before it’s too late. But I have to

  hear you say it.”

  I was floored by his words. Speechless, I pulled back, looked up into those insanely blue eyes.

  Everything I’d felt for him before roared back to life, but doubled in intensity, because of the man

  that Mal had become. The connection that I could feel pulling between us, bringing us closer right that

  moment, was more than just old friendship and lust.

  In that moment, I didn’t have to push through any fear, didn’t have to convince myself that this

  was the right time to be intimate with someone again.

  In that moment, I wanted to be consumed by what I felt.

  “Malachi.” Never taking my eyes from his, I gently pushed at his chest until we were in my

  bedroom, until the edge of my bed hit the backs of his knees and forced him to sit.

  Bracing my weight on hands placed on his shoulders, I looked down into his eyes.

  “Mal, I want this. This isn’t about me using you to help me through my issues, okay? I want to be

  with you because I want to be with you. And I know that you’re not going to hurt me.”

  “Jesus, Adele.” Reaching up, Mal tangled his fingers in my hair, brought me down for a kiss that

  was almost reverent.

  When he pulled back, and we looked at one another, that reverence melted, changed, transformed

  into something else, something hot and needy, something that wouldn’t be ignored.

  I wanted to taste the essence that was unique to Mal. I wanted to watch this good man with the

  filthy touch to unravel under my touch.

  When we kissed again, our mouths collided. Mal’s fingers tangled in my hair, stroked over my

  back, caressed my hips.

  I could feel the power in his kiss, his touch—power restrained. His hands trembled with the

  restraint. He was holding back, letting me call the shots.

  One day, I wanted to unleash the beast, to let him go wild on me.

  Today, even though my pussy was already wet and aching, I needed to go slow.

  Pushing on his chest until he lay back on the bed, I took a step back. Mal propped himself up on

  his elbows to watch as I slowly, so slowly, lifted the hem of my T-shirt, baring the curve of my belly,

  then my breasts, clad in the front fastening sports bra.

  Then the shirt was off, tossed to the floor and forgotten. My fingers strayed to the clasp of my bra,

  undoing it, the curves of my breasts holding the fabric in place in what I hoped was a sexy tease.

  From the darkening of Mal’s expression, I think I could say that it was. I could see the rigid length

  of his cock, pressing against the thick denim of his jeans.

  It had to be uncomfortable. But the fact that he was so obviously aroused but was holding back

  made me bolder still.

  “Unzip your pants. Take your cock out.” My voice didn’t sound like my own, low and raspy with

  arousal. “But stay where you are.”

  I lifted my fingers to my own waistband and watched as he did what I told him to. The button went

  first, and then the zipper was lowered. The metallic rasp scraped at the air, the sound erotic as hell.

  “Pull your cock out.” I wanted to see it, had to see it. Once I’d thought I’d never want to see a dick

  ever again, but I was craving Mal’s.

  Slowly he reached into his boxers, then pulled himself out, the elastic catching under the soft sacs

  of his testicles.

  My mouth watered as my eyes greedily took in the engorged length, the shiny, wet head.

  I wanted to taste it, wanted to taste him.

  Slowly. I knew I had to go slow, so I didn’t awaken any of the nightmares that lurked inside of me

  like demons.

  “Your turn.” Mal told me, fisting his hand around the engorged shaft of his cock. His thumb

  swiped over the top, and I watched, fascinated, as precome dampened the head. “I need to see you.”

  Hands trembling, I slowly peeled away the fabric that clung to my bre
asts. My nipples were

  already tight with arousal, but the chill of meeting the air, of feeling Mal’s stare on them, made them

  contract even further.

  I slid the straps of my bra down my shoulders, and let it fall to the floor.

  “Take off your shorts.” Mal’s fist moved up and down his cock once, twice, and heat washed over

  me.

  I wasn’t the only one who’d changed. Two and a half years ago, Mal would never have been

  demanding, would never have been so in charge of his own sexuality.

  I’d never known, but there was control in surrender. And looking at his fingers wrapped around his

  own cock was hotter than hell.

  With fingers hooked in the elastic, I slowly lowered my spandex skating shorts to my knees, then

  let them fall the rest of the way. I heard Mal’s sharp exhalation of breath as I stepped out of them,

  then moved towards the bed.

  I’d been naked underneath those shorts, which meant that I was entirely naked now. Naked and

  bared to him.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.” Releasing his cock, Mal held out both hands for

  me as I approached the bed. I took them, climbed up onto the mattress so that I straddled his hips, and

  felt an answering surge of wetness in my pussy.

  I didn’t know what this was between us, or where it was going to go. But in that moment, I knew

  that he spoke the truth as he saw it.

  “What do you want to do?” His fingers twined with mine, then released when I edged his T-shirt

  up. He stripped it off for me, then placed his hands on my hips, his thumbs rubbing over the sensitive

  skin in small circles in a way that drove me wild.

  “I want you. All of you.” I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. Straddling

  him while I was so naked and open, having him look at me like that, made me want to feel him

  thrusting inside of me with a ferocity that made me ache.

  But when my hands found the waistband of his jeans and tried to pull them down, he clasped his

  fingers around my wrists and stopped me.

  “We have all the time in the world. So let’s try this instead.” He again clasped me by my hips, but

  this time he gripped me, his fingers digging in lightly.

  With sure hands and strong arms—God, when had he gotten those arms?—he lowered me until the

  length of his cock was nestled lengthwise through my slick, hot folds.

  “Oh.” The feel of skin against skin, of his hardness right where I wanted it most, had me rocking

  my pelvis forward, sliding along his length without him actually being inside of me. “Oh, God.”

  “Yes.” Taking his glasses off and dropping them off the side of the bed, Mal looked up at me and

  smiled, slow and serious. “You’re in control, Adele. Always in control. Move how you want to. Use

  me.”

  I almost came from his words alone. Who was this confident, masterful, sexy as hell man between

  my thighs?

  I wanted to sink down onto him and never let him go.

  “Don’t you want to...” My voice trailed off. I couldn’t say the words.

  “Oh, I do.” Mal assured me, and to show me how much he wanted me, he thrust his pelvis up,

  which made his cock slide through my folds again. The head of his erection pressed against my clit,

  then released, and I cried out at how good it felt.

  “I want to lay you down on this bed, hook your legs over my shoulders, and lick you dry.” He

  thrust again, and my thighs trembled. “I want to drink you down when you come in my mouth. I want

  to lick and kiss every inch of this tight little body. I want to spread your thighs as wide as they’ll go

  and fuck you until you scream my name. I want to slide my finger into your ass and feel it contract as

  I spill inside of your tight pussy.”

  “Jesus, Mal.” My entire body spasmed at the erotic picture his words created. Without consciously

  thinking about it, I found myself sliding my naked pussy against his rock solid erection, pressing my

  clit against the steel shaft, giving soft cries of pleasure with every jolt of sensation.

  “There will be time for all of that later.” One of the hands that had clasped my hips slid up my

  torso, skated over the side of my breast, then palmed the heavy weight. Sure fingers caught my

  sensitive nipple, rolled the hot, tight bud, and I felt a streak of pleasure all the way down through my

  womb.

  “Right now is all about you.” Mal’s voice was husky with need, and if I’d had any doubt about how

  much he wanted me, it was erased with every stroke of my pussy over his shaft, which continued,

  impossibly continued, to thicken and harden between my thighs.

  Bending to brace my hands on his chest, I upped the pace, his flesh unyielding against the tight

  bundle of nerves that was my clit. Later, I thought, later I would explore this hard, wide chest, the flat

  planes of his belly, the sexy hipbones. Later I’d sink my teeth into arms so strong I couldn’t help but

  feel safe in them.

  Right now I could feel myself careening towards a climax I’d never thought I’d feel again.

  And I wanted it. I was greedy, and I was going to take it.

  My thighs tightened on either side of Mal’s hips, and I began to tremble.

  “That’s it, baby.” He’d never talked dirty to me before, and I fucking loved this surprise side of

  him. “Rub yourself against my cock. I want to watch you come. Want to hear it.”

  By that point I couldn’t have stopped it. I moved frantically back and forth, my hips rocking down,

  as I sought that pressure of his hard cock against my clit. Feeling the way he swelled beneath me,

  hearing the grunts and sharp exhalations he gave, were my undoing.

  When I cried out, pressing down hard against the head of his cock, my back bowing and my breasts

  jiggling with the movement, I saw him grind his teeth together and fist his hands in the sheets in an

  attempt to restrain himself.

  I couldn’t believe he was doing this for me, just for me, and that was what made me shatter. I cried

  out, my voice echoing throughout the small room, as the searing heat of my first climax in two years

  took me over.

  As my shudders began to subside, I watched through heavy eyes as Mal untangled his fingers from

  the sheets and clasped me by my waist. When he moved to lift me off, I protested.

  “You haven’t come yet.” I was tired in the aftermath, but my body felt alive. “I want to give you

  what you gave me.” To demonstrate, I squeezed my thighs together.

  “Adele!” Mal’s groan was loud and harsh, like I was hurting him, and I slid slowly down the

  length of him. My flesh was so sensitive from my own release that the movement almost hurt, but it

  was a hurt so good kind of feeling.

  He thrust up against me once, twice, and then with a sound like he’d been stabbed, Mal bodily

  lifted me off of him, laying me down on the bed beside him.

  “This is all about you.” He turned to me to my side, pulling me back against him so that his

  erection nestled in the crevice of my ass. I pushed back against him, but he just chuckled and wrapped

  an arm around my waist.

  “I wanted to show you I’m serious about getting to know you again, Adele.” His words whispered

  over the lobe of my ear and made me shiver, even as my mind tried to process.

  He was aroused, painfully so—I could feel the evidence of it against the small of my back.

  But he was
holding back, making it all about me. And I’d even offered, and truthfully, would have

  enjoyed bringing him pleasure.

  The gesture floored me, and unexpected tears stung the backs of my eyes.

  I was silent in the dark, listening to his breathing. I had no words.

  His fingers began to move over my back, and I murmured at the pleasure of the touch. But he

  traced certain places repeatedly, his fingers making a design, and I stiffened as I realized what he was

  doing.

  “These are new.” Mal traced the outline of one of the ravens that was tattooed onto my back. I held

  my breath, waiting for him to ask what they meant, why I’d chosen to mark my skin with a conspiracy

  of ravens, a bird that most people saw as an omen, a harbinger of bad luck.

  I knew better. Countless cultures saw the raven as a symbol of tomorrow, of the future.

  I’d gotten the ink to remind myself that I had one.

  But Mal didn’t press. Instead he bent his head, pressed his lips to first one bird, and then another. I

  held my breath as he pressed gentle kisses over each bird that flew on my skin, before tightening his

  arms around me and resting his chin in my hair.

  I heard him sigh, was about to ask him what was wrong, when he spoke.

  “My parents have disowned me.” His words matter of fact, even as I hissed in a shocked breath.

  “Oh my God, Mal.” I struggled to turn, to look at him, but his arms held me in place. I knew how

  important his parents were to him, how he’d badly he’d wanted to live up to the family name, to

  please them.

  But when I craned my neck to look back over my shoulder, I found Mal shaking his head.

  “No, it’s not a bad thing, and it was a long time coming.” He was silent for a moment, like he was

  gathering his thoughts. “I... my father was a controlling man. Everything in his life had to fit together

  exactly the way he thought it should, and that included me. When I didn’t do what he wanted me to, I

  was... punished. Which is why I always tried so hard to be the way I was.”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

  “What do you mean, punished?” My voice was wary.

  Mal exhaled loudly, and I felt the warmth of his breath on the back of my neck.

  “I’ve never told this to anyone before. Ever.” He pressed a soft kiss to the nape of my neck. “My

 

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