Wicked Serenade: a Lost in Oblivion Collection
Page 114
“Jazz, baby, c’mere.”
Shifting her body so that he could see, she flipped up her skirt and pushed aside her panties, moaning around him as her fingers brushed her soaked piercing. She knew his mobility was more limited than usual due to his injuries, so she took advantage, torturing them both with the visual of her swirling her fingers in and out of her pussy. He grabbed her leg and bit the inside of her calf and damn if the jolt didn’t zip right into the heart of her, where she was pulsing around her thrusting fingers.
“Fuck, baby. I can’t watch this.”
“So close your eyes.”
His indignant huff made her grin before her desire demanded center stage. She fucked herself openly, spreading her thighs, giving him the show of her life while she smoothed wet kisses along his shaft. She exalted in every broken gasp he couldn’t hold back and the way his hips jerked and his cock thrust helplessly into her fist. He was so close to the edge, and she’d taken him there. Just like she’d taken herself.
Power surged through her trembling limbs, heady and sweet. “Where do you want to paint me with your cum?” she murmured, pressing her thumb against the seeping slit on his erection.
He bit off a groan, his shoulders nearly coming off the bed as he gripped the sheets and stared fixedly at her pumping hand. “You know where,” he rasped. “Inside you. I want it dripping out of you.”
“Always gotta bump it up a notch.” At his muffled laughter, she lapped up the fluid pooling on the tip of him and pulled her damp hand free to caress the base of his dick. His laughter turned into a moan when she squeezed. Having super strong fingers came in handy sometimes. “So do I.”
“If only I could flip you on your stomach right now…”
“You can’t flip me anywhere. And I think I like that.” She caught her tongue between her teeth and crawled up his body to rub her lips over his, letting him taste himself on her mouth before she traced her wet fingertips over his lower lip. His broody eyes never left hers as he licked up what she’d given him, as he curled his tongue around her fingertip.
“You like taking control, huh?”
“I guess I do.” She eased back to pull off her top, tossing it on the floor. Then she popped the clasp on her bra and leaned forward, trailing her nipples over his mouth. He growled and seized hold of one, biting down with a sensuous pressure that ignited a fierce drumbeat between her legs. “I can’t wait.”
“Then don’t.” He grabbed her hip and situated her over his cock. When she hovered over his length, a fraction of an inch away, he dropped his hand to the mattress.
The permission he offered her in his gaze stole her breath. She knew it wasn’t easy for him to give up control, but he would—for her.
She scratched her nails over the Oblivion tattoo low on his stomach. “You know, I haven’t teased you nearly enough about this tat. But since it says this way to Oblivion, I’m about to see if there’s truth in advertising.” She lifted up slightly then plunged downward, sighing as she took him in right to the hilt. “Oh yeah.” She swiveled her hips and repeated the move. “That’s fucking oblivion, all right.”
“Christ, you’re trying to kill me.” He wheezed and gripped the sheet in his fist, his hips rising to match the violent pace she set.
She leaned forward and braced her hands on the pillow on either side of his head, brazenly riding his cock. Her breasts bounced in his face and she didn’t even worry about excess jiggling because for the first time, she truly felt like a goddess. Sexy and free and so very loved.
Being loved made all the difference.
“So goddamn beautiful.” His fingers spanned her cheek and he brought her mouth close, panting into it as he rocked into her again and again, their rhythm instinctual and unhurried. She didn’t have to reach for the beat or urge him to speed up, because whatever she did, he countered, reading her effortlessly.
They were in sync, their bodies slapping and sliding together with the most delicious friction. God, she never wanted it to end.
Eventually beads of sweat popped out on his forehead and he swore, reaching down to grip her ass and pull on her onto him harder, faster. Her painfully swollen clit and her piercing dragged over his flesh, making them both curse, and she bowed back, locking her arms behind her head as she ascended that first peak and coasted into the thrilling drop, hurtling so swiftly that she didn’t know if she’d find nirvana or a hard landing below.
Not caring, because he was inside her. Filling her up. Making her forget that anything existed except the two of them.
Still pulsing, she gasped as he sat up and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as his body bucked and shuddered and hammered into hers. “God, yes. Come on me. Keep coming.”
“Oh, yes.” She couldn’t stop. She rode him like a wild thing, driven to wring out every drop of bliss. There seemed to be no end to the amount of times she could reach that pinnacle while he held back. Unlike her, he obviously had enough patience to spur her on to new heights for the sheer joy of watching her fly.
The harder he shook, the more demanding he became. He wanted more. Always more.
His control finally snapped, and she held on tight as he thrust one last time. And crushed her mouth to his to capture the unforgettable sound of him letting go.
* * *
He let her sleep for as long as he could.
As the day waned, Gray stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers and tried to memorize every one of her features. The tiny dark mole above her upper lip, the spray of freckles over her nose. Her mouth formed a flawless bow, and without lipstick, it was a rosy pink like her cheeks. Even unconscious, she seemed to be glowing. His stubble burn marred her jaw and neck, but it only made her more beautiful.
His gaze lowered to the guitar pick nestled in the notch of her collarbone. So much of their history existed in such a small, seemingly insignificant item. Her laughter and tears, his love and longing. He traced it with his fingertip, trying to imprint this moment on his mind for the endless days ahead. She would always be the most shining, perfect thing in his life, and he couldn’t be anything but grateful that they’d had this time together. Whatever lay beyond today, he’d shared this with her, and no one would ever be able to take it away from him.
From either of them.
His gaze dropped to the hand beside her cheek and the ring on her finger. That symbol of what he felt for her was worth any penance. When he’d been lying on the concrete, his body in agony, his mind in turmoil, he’d still carried the light from loving her inside him. It was like a lantern, beating back the dark.
No matter how far apart they traveled, he would never let the light go out.
She stirred, her eyelashes fluttering. Slowly, she smiled. “You’re watching me sleep again.”
“Busted.” He shifted more fully onto his good side and swallowed the grunt of pain at the pull in his shoulder. Small favors that the bulk of his injuries were to his left side and he was right-handed. The bastards who’d fucked him up must’ve just gotten unlucky. He seriously doubted they’d spared his playing side.
She sat up and fussed at his shirt, smoothing it over his arm. “Your doctor told me you’re supposed to wear a sling to help manage the pain.”
“You talked to my doctor?”
Her eyebrow winged up. “What do you think?”
He smiled and cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her lip. “I think you’re going to make one hell of a wife someday.”
He hadn’t meant to say it. Not to mention the statement itself sounded kind of sexist. Damn, he’d been hanging around with Nick way too much.
At least that’d be over for a while.
She frowned and he braced for the storm sure to come. “What do you mean someday?” She held up her hand. “See this? I’m not waiting until I’ve gone gray.”
His mouth quirked. “You went Gray years ago.”
“Ha ha. I’m serious. If you think I’m down for some long-ass engagement—”
&nb
sp; “We have to talk.” He sat up and bit the inside of his cheek to avoid squealing like a little girl. Goddamn shoulder. The ribs weren’t much better.
“So talk.”
He glanced back to where she sat against the headboard, arms crossed, mouth sulky. “Hear me out.”
“I’m listening.”
“With less than half an ear.” He stroked his eyebrow ring. “I’m leaving for a while.”
She didn’t say anything for so long that he looked back to find her staring at him, all the color in her cheeks gone. Her eyes were so huge and startlingly blue that his breath tripped before evening out again. “This is your home. We’re your family.”
“My family…Jesus, were you ever going to tell me about Brent?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She tugged up the sheet then pushed it down again. “Yeah, I was, but I chose a different timetable than you would’ve probably picked. But I had a good reason.”
“You were afraid of sending me into a spiral.”
Once again, she grew silent.
He nodded, unsurprised. “Figured as much. That’s another reason I have to do this.”
“Do what? Walk away from everyone who cares about you?”
“No. I’m doing this for the people who care about me and depend on me. And I’m doing it most of all for myself. That’s hard for me to say, because I’ve spent so many years living for you. But I can’t do that anymore.”
“I never asked you to.”
“I know you didn’t.” He caressed her leg through the sheet. “I thought I could be everything to you. Make up for everyone who’d ever hurt you.” His hand stopped moving. “Until I joined them, and I realized I’d been doomed to fail all along.”
“I hurt you just as much.”
He started to deny it. That was what he did. But this time, he couldn’t. “Yeah. You did.”
“You…you really started the night you saw me with Nick. That was true.”
Yet again his first reaction was to deflect. He blew out a breath. “Yes.” At her soft inward breath, he gripped her thigh. “That doesn’t mean you’re to blame. I made that choice. You and I weren’t together. You had every right to be with him.” He shook his head. “Just like I had every right to act like a complete dick and do something that harmed me more than anyone else.”
“All those times I tried to talk to you about us in recent years, you blocked me and changed the subject. Ever since Brent, you never said another word about us. How did you expect me to know?”
“I never said I was smart.”
She drew her legs up, out from under his hand. Always, always she curled into herself when she needed to retreat. He shifted to look her way, trying to stifle the flash of pain he knew must register on his face. But she reached forward just the same and cupped his cheek. “You need your sling.”
“Later.”
“You don’t need a wife. You need a keeper.”
“Yeah, for the last while I have, and I’m not about to shackle you with that.”
“Isn’t that for me to decide?” she asked, tucking her hands between her knees.
“No. Not anymore. I need to do this for me, and I’m asking you to understand. Just like I need you to understand why I didn’t make another move toward you for all those years.”
“Because I’d turned you down so many times—”
“No. Don’t get me wrong. That wasn’t a walk in the park.” He smiled faintly. “But I’m used to working for what I want. You could’ve told me no a million times and I never would’ve given up.”
“Then?”
Of all the things he’d had to tell her, this was the hardest of them all.
He sucked in a breath, but it didn’t lessen the pressure in his chest. After rolling out of bed, he walked naked to the dresser and braced his hands on it while he searched for a way to tell her that wouldn’t make her hate him.
There wasn’t one.
“Gray.”
“The night Brent attacked you, I provoked him.” When she didn’t reply, he gripped the edges of the dresser and pushed on. “I came home early to go to your party with you. I rented a tux, whole nine yards. He goaded me by trying to make me think the two of you were involved. I knew it was bullshit. I knew it, and he still grabbed me by the balls. And I reacted.”
“What did you do?”
Her quiet question, so full of confusion and hesitation, nearly broke him. For that moment, she was sixteen years old again, almost innocent and yet the exact opposite. And he was the one who’d nearly shattered her with his thoughtless taunts.
“I told Brent you’d never want him like you wanted me.” He turned back, then crawled across the bed and framed her beautiful face in his hands. Even the aches in his body couldn’t compete with the open wounds in her eyes. “It was my fault. I caused him to go that far. If I hadn’t said—”
“If you hadn’t told the truth, you mean?”
He fell silent.
“I did want you more than anyone else, and I’d certainly never looked at him that way. But I don’t think he even cared about me. I was a pawn to push around. A weapon in his competition with you. And we all lost out because he didn’t know when to back down and when to fight.”
He sat back on his haunches. “Jazz—”
“You came onto me when I wanted to be adopted more than I wanted anything else. Even you,” she said softly. “When adoption wasn’t an option on the table anymore, that’s when you decided to back off. Every time I looked at another man, you’d growl, but you never did one damn thing to indicate you still wanted me. Until Nick.”
“Until Nick,” he agreed.
“Then you decided the three of us getting naked together was a smart idea.”
“Technically, you decided that. I don’t recall getting undressed first.”
“Can you blame me? I never thought I’d get you undressed, ever. Even if the fucking Pope had been in the room, I would’ve stripped down to my birthday suit anyway.”
“Back to the Pope,” he muttered. “Seems to be a recurring theme lately.”
“You know what else keeps recurring? You deciding you know how I must feel.” She shoved her hands through her disordered hair. “By the way, your track record in that department sucks.”
He had to smile. “Tell me how you really feel, honey.”
“Fine.” She stared him dead in the eye and held up her left hand. “I want to marry you. Now. No more bullshit. No more waiting.”
His heart leaped, and for an instant, he nearly agreed. The words were right there in his throat, aching to be spoken. But at the last moment, he lowered his head.
“Okay then,” she said, sounding more defeated than he’d ever heard her. She tossed off the sheet and threw her legs over the side of the bed. “That answers that.”
“Wait.” He squeezed her shoulder. “It’s not about me not wanting to marry you.”
“Then what?”
“It’s that I’m not in a place to make that decision. Honestly, neither are you. We’ve been together such a short time, and I’m a fucking mess. I’m going to get to the other side, but I’m not there yet. Anyone would tell us we’re insane to consider a move this huge without making sure we have a firm foundation underneath us first.”
“Anyone isn’t us, and they haven’t lived holding their breath for years like we have. I believe in you.”
“You haven’t even asked me what happened.” He rubbed the heel of his hand over his sore ribs. “If I relapsed or blew the money Lila gave me or some combination of the two.”
“I have my theories. If you ever doubted whether I want bling more than you, don’t. There’s no bling in this world that could make up for one iota of the terror I felt that night.”
His shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ll never be as sorry as I am, because it took both of us to arrive where we are.” Squarely, she met his gaze. “Whatever happened, I trust you and I don’t doubt for a second that you
’re going to kick this addiction. I may be naïve. I may be the biggest dummy going. But no one will ever accuse me of not putting one hundred percent of my faith in you.”
“God, baby, I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t write an ode to me yet.” She pointed at him. “If you relapse or get yourself hurt again for any goddamn reason, I swear to God, I will fucking kick your ass harder than those thugs ever did. I will make it my life’s work to bring you pain.”
He laughed and gripped her hand, kissing her palm. “You make it sound so simple. I wish it was.”
“Here we go again.” She sighed heavily. “Have your existential crisis some other day, all right? I’m not feeling too hot.”
“But—” He broke off. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just some stupid nausea. Probably a side effect of having lunch with a drug dealer and getting dumped before dinner.”
“Why would you be nauseous? Do you have the flu?”
“If I do, it’s lasting a long time. It started the day you went missing.”
“That was almost a week ago.”
“Yeah.” She dug out her bra from under the pillow. How it had ended up there, he had no clue. “Whatever. I’m going to go lie down. I’m too tired to argue anymore today.” She stood and began pulling on her bra. “If leaving is your way of throwing yourself on your sword for being human, then that’s your choice.”
“Jazz.” He grabbed her arm and somehow managed not to howl at the sudden movement.
She stopped fumbling with her bra clasp. “What?”
His pulse kicked up. “Could you be pregnant?”
“Of course not.”
“Have you gotten your period recently?”
Pressing her lips together, she yanked up her bra straps and bent to pull on her panties. She remained in a crouched position longer than necessary, her head lowered. She was breathing loudly enough for him to hear. Almost wheezing.
He leaned over to look at her. “What are you doing?”
“Having a panic attack.” She peered up at him. “Do you mind?”
There was absolutely no reason in the world to laugh. Less than none. Yet it tore out of his chest and echoed in the room until she gave in and joined him, wiping her eyes as she rose to sit next to him on the bed.