Glorious Sinner (Lawless Kings, #4.5)

by Sherilee Gray

  She shook her head again. “Please, Tomas.”

  I didn’t know what she was pleading for, and going by the lost look in her eyes I didn’t think she did either. I grabbed her phone and turned off the music, then pulled her to me. She started to struggle and, fuck, that killed me. I would have never forced her to do anything she didn’t want, but the way she was acting was scaring the shit out of me. When the first sob broke from her, I did the only thing I could think of. I wrapped her in a bear hug and sank to the floor, taking her with me.

  She grabbed onto my jacket and buried her face against my chest, tears soaking it almost instantly.

  “You’re scaring me, Steph. Please, Angel, talk to me.”

  “He’s not going to give up, is he?” she said, panic clear in her voice.

  I held her tighter. “Steph…”

  She gripped the front of my shirt. “I found my old phone in your desk. I saw Ryan’s texts. He means it, he does. He’s going to hurt you, he’s going to—”

  “He won’t, Stephanie. That fucker won’t come near either of us. He’s living rough, making it hard to find him, but I will. I promise you that.” I gently lifted her chin so I could see her face but she kept her eyes averted. “But that’s not what this is about, not really, is it?”

  She didn’t answer and still wouldn’t look at me.

  “Steph?”

  Finally, she looked up at me and, shit, the look in her eyes destroyed me, but not as much as the words that came out of her mouth. “This…this isn’t real, is it?”

  “What?” I whispered.

  “How can you want me?” she said, starting to sound hysterical. “You see me as this broken…thing. Not a woman; a broken, damaged bird, her wings clipped. Pathetic, helpless. That how you see me.”

  I stared at her, stunned. How could she think that? “Where’s this coming from?”

  “Or do you look at me, the scars, remember the bruises I had after you saved me, and see your mother?” Her lips trembled, tears streaming down her face.

  I froze. There was no accusation in her voice, just pain and fear. Fear that what she was saying was the truth. Jesus fucking Christ. I brushed her hair back carefully, trying to control my own fear that I could lose her. That she could walk away from me if she believed this bullshit. “Who told you about my mother?”

  “Does it matter?” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hide your past from me? It’s because it’s true, isn’t it? You want to save me because you were too young to save your mother from your father?”

  Her words were a knife to the chest, cracking what was left of the stone around my heart, releasing all the pain and hurt I’d locked away. It wasn’t hard to figure out who told her about my family. Willa and her were close. Jude knew my history, had seen the bruises. I shook my head. “You’re wrong, Angel, so fucking wrong.”

  “Am I?” More tears streamed down her face.

  I brushed them away, the knife twisting. “I told you that I’ve wanted you since I first saw you, and I wasn’t lying. Christ, Stephanie, I’m in love with you.”

  She stilled in my arms, her eyes widening. “What did you say?”

  “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for a fucking long time, but you weren’t ready for me, not back then and not a year ago. Why do you think I came in to see you nearly every day? I was waiting for you, for that emptiness to leave your eyes, for you to tell me you were ready, that you wanted me, too.” My voice sounded wrecked, my words coming out harsher than I’d intended, but, fuck, I was so in love with this woman and she couldn’t see it. That hurt. I knew it was unreasonable of me, but it hurt all the same.

  “You love me?” she whispered.

  “Jesus, woman, of course I do. I’d give it all up for you, all of this. I’ve already started. I closed down several of my operations right after you came back into my life. Shit that I didn’t want any part of anymore. Because you make me want to be a better man, Stephanie.”

  She blinked up at me, the tears not slowing. “You did that for me?” she said.

  “Nothing else matters but you,” I said simply.

  Her hand lifted to my face, her eyes searching mine. “I love you, too, you know?”

  All the breath was punched from my lungs. I stared into her green eyes, heart pounding. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to hear that from you?”

  “This is the first time I’ve truly understood what it meant,” she said.

  “Kiss me,” I growled.

  Her fingers curled around the back of my neck and she did as I asked. She kissed me. A press of lips that wasn’t enough. I was about to take over when she pulled back a little.

  “Make love to me, Tomas,” she said, a breathless hitch to her voice that had my gut in knots. “Please.” And then she kissed me again, this time holding nothing back.

  13

  Stephanie

  Tomas huffed out a breath, like it had been knocked from his lungs. “You’re sure?” he said.

  “Yes.” I’d never been surer about anything in my life. I’d only ever been with Ryan and I wanted to erase his touch from my body. I needed that so bad, and if anyone could do that, it was Tomas. But mostly, I just wanted him. “Please.”

  He cupped my jaw, eyes searching mine. “We’re gonna take this nice and slow,” he said. “Anything you don’t like, you tell me. You want to stop, I’ll stop. Understand?”

  I nodded. He didn’t need to say it. I already knew he’d make sure this was good for me. Tomas made everything good. When I nodded and reached up, kissing him again, he instantly took over. His tongue swept inside, tangling with mine as he lay me down on one of the floor mats in the gym.

  He came down beside me, still cupping my face, and leaned back in to kiss me again. He didn’t hold back. He devoured me, and I couldn’t get enough of him. His hand slid down to the base of my throat then lower to cup one of my breasts, gently pinching my nipple.

  I moaned and squirmed. So good.

  “More?” he said against my mouth.

  “Yes,” I said, panting against his lips.

  He shoved up my shirt and tugged down the cup of my bra, then his mouth was there, sucking my tight nipple into his hot mouth while he palmed the other. My fingers slid into his dark hair, holding him to me. He didn’t let up, working me into a needy mess before giving the other breast the same attention. I was panting and squirming, so turned on I thought I might come from his mouth on me alone.

  He sucked the swollen peak deeper and tugged. I cried out, liquid heat curling low in my belly. I was so hot and slick between my thighs I was actually kind of embarrassed by how wet I was.

  Tomas lifted his head, fire in his eyes. “I want this off,” he said, fisting my shirt, then he tugged it up and over my head and threw it aside. The bra came off next.

  He kissed me again as he covered me with his body, his hips pressing into mine. I moaned at the feel of his hard cock. I lifted my hips, grinding up against him, and Tomas hissed.

  He dragged his mouth down my throat as I clutched at his shoulders. His lips traveled over my breasts, giving my nipples more attention until they were insanely sensitive.

  His hands dropped to my shorts when he moved lower, tugging them and my underwear off. I watched him as he looked down and cursed under his breath.

  “Christ, Angel, look at you. Baby, you’re so wet.”

  My face got hotter.

  His eyes lifted to mine and the fire had gone molten. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He licked his lips and gently pushed my legs farther apart, his hand dropping to his cock, squeezing the hard flesh through the fabric of his pants.

  He groaned and dropped down, burying his face between my thighs.

  I cried out, my hand dropping to the back of his head, fisting his hair when his hands went to my ass, lifting me, holding me to his mouth. He groaned against me, sucking and licking at me in a way that made it clear he loved it, that he loved the taste of me, the act of
pleasuring me with his mouth.

  I was nearly there already, then he pushed his tongue inside me and started fucking me with his tongue. My back arched instantly, fingers gripping his hair tighter, and I flew apart, coming so hard I struggled to breathe.

  When I opened my eyes again, Tomas was looking down at me in a way that made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world. He unbuttoned his shirt and flung it aside, then his hands dropped to the front of his pants and he undid them, shoving them down. But instead of covering me, he lay down on his back beside me.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off him. The man had a beautiful body, and my mouth went dry when my gaze lowered to his hard cock resting against his stomach.

  “This first time, you’re on top, Angel,” he rasped and reached down, taking his cock in his hand and stroking. “Climb up.”

  I didn’t wait for another invitation. There was nothing I wanted more than Tomas finally inside me. I straddled his hips, moaning when I leaned in to kiss him again and my chest and belly made contact with his bare hot skin, with nothing between us. One of his hands left my ass and he reached for something.

  “Can’t wait any longer. I need in you, Steph.”

  He’d grabbed a condom from his pants and I sat back a little and watched, squirming, as he rolled it on his gorgeous cock. Then he fisted it. “Fuck me, Angel. I need you to fuck me.”

  I didn’t think it was possible to be any more turned on that I was, but when he said that, his voice rough with need, my pussy clenched and I thought I might die if I didn’t feel him inside me.

  I lined myself up and gasped when he rubbed the fat head through my folds, slicking himself on my wetness. Then he was right there and I started to lower myself. I bit my lip at the way every thick inch stretched me, and whimpered and shook when I took the final fat inch all the way.

  Tomas growled, his hand on my hip, gripping me tighter, the other sliding up my back to my neck, and he pulled me down for a kiss.

  We both moaned when I rolled my hips. Tomas’s hold tightened and his panted breaths mingled with mine as I started moving, taking him as deep as he would go, up and back, already feeling another orgasm building. He went so damn deep and I was so turned on all I could do was chase it. I was lost to the feel of Tomas inside me and the way he looked at me when I sat up, put my hands to his chest, and ground my hips into his.

  “Fuck, Stephanie. Look at you. Jesus, so sexy. So beautiful up there. Take it, Angel. Take what you need,” he groaned.

  I did; I took it, and I gave him everything as well, rolling my hips and grinding on his beautiful body. Feeling more powerful, more beautiful than I had in my entire life.

  “Tomas,” I moaned. “Oh God.”

  Tomas gritted his teeth, holding me up as I lost it completely. A sob burst from me as I started coming, riding him through it, chasing it to the end until I dropped forward, quivering in his arms. Tomas was pulsing inside me, coming as well, and he held me there against him, one hand at the base of my neck, the other on my lower back. He thrust up inside me one more time and stayed there, his deep groan vibrating through me, his own body trembling along with mine.

  We stayed like that, neither one moving, with Tomas still buried inside me, his hand moving over my skin like he couldn’t stop touching me.

  I kissed his chest. “Sex…it’s never been like that, not for me. That was…” I struggled to find the words.

  He cupped my face, making me lift my head to look down at him. “It’s never been like that for me either, but what we just did, it wasn’t just sex. Shit, Steph…” His thumb swiped over my jaw. “Is this actually happening? Are you really mine?”

  My eyes stung and I blinked against the happy tears threatening. “Yes, I’m yours,” I said. And he was mine.

  “Fuck, I love you,” he said roughly.

  I blinked and a tear escaped.

  Tomas swiped it away, his dark eyes softening.

  “I love you, too, so much.”

  He smiled, his whole face lighting up, then he pulled me down and kissed me again.

  A little while later, I lay curled against his side. We needed to get off the floor and get dressed, but I liked where I was way too much. Willa’s words echoed through my mind from earlier and I squeezed him tighter. That his father had hit him when he was just a small boy, it killed me.

  “What’s on your mind?” Tomas said against my hair.

  The man could tell something was wrong even when he couldn’t see my face.

  “Why didn’t you tell me what happened when you were a child…your father, what he did?” I had to bite my lip when a wave of emotion came over me.

  He squeezed me back. “I guess I’ve avoided thinking about it for so long that talking was the last thing I thought of doing. I’m not used to sharing, of letting people in. I’ve spent a lot of years doing the opposite.”

  “Where are they now, your parents?”

  “My father lives alone in the same house I grew up in, on the same street. My mother, she died when I was ten,” he said.

  Something about the way his body tensed when he mentioned his mother made my stomach twist in knots. “What happened to her?”

  He pulled me in closer, surrounding me, holding me to his chest, and I got the feeling he didn’t want me to see his face when he told me what he was about to tell me.

  “My father hit her too hard one day. She fell down the stairs, hit her head. She died instantly,” he said, his hand moving over my back like he was trying to comfort me.

  But then I felt the way his heart was pounding, heard the rough way he exhaled with every breath, and I realized he was seeking comfort from me, not the other way around. I clung to him, desperately wanting to give him what he needed.

  “My father was an extremely religious man—that’s what he told himself anyway. He was the opposite, but he used his warped idea of religion as an excuse to punish us, to justify his need to hurt the people he should have protected with his life. I struggled with school as a kid. It frustrated me. I felt stupid a lot of the time. So I lashed out, became disruptive in class to try and cover it. I used to fight a lot. I found out later that I was dyslexic.” He kissed the top of my head again. “My father said God gave it to me to punish me because I was a sinner. That when I died I’d burn in hell. After my mother died and I became the main focus of his abuse, he told me she died because of me, because God decided to take her back, to get her away from me. I was a kid; I believed him, until I got older and saw him for what he truly was.”

  His father was a monster. “Tomas, I’m so sorry.” I kissed his shoulder, knowing there was nothing I could say to take away the memories, the pain he’d gone through. I wanted to, though, so much.

  He chuckled, but there was no humor. It was a dark sound and lifted goose bumps on my skin. “I thought about killing him. I could have easily enough. Once I got older, I made sure he knew it, too. I wanted no part of his religion and went about proving to him that I was the sinner he said I was. I drank, I fucked, I fought, working my way toward the man I eventually became, the man I still was just over a year ago. Cold, distant. Not giving a fuck who I hurt. Running right over anyone who got in my way.” He shuddered. “But it was me doing the running, from him, from his voice in my head, telling me it was my fault she died. Some part of me, no matter how stupid, believed it. There was no way I could have protected her. I was a kid. Still, it tormented me and the only way to escape it was to close myself off, to harden myself to it.”

  He leaned back, slid his fingers under my chin, and tilted my head back. “Then you called me that day and, Christ, the fear I felt hearing your voice. I didn’t think I was capable of feeling fear like that, not anymore, not since I was a frightened little kid.” He shook his head. “But walking into that room? Seeing you lying there…” His voice cracked. “I felt a fuck of a lot more than fear, Angel, so much more. And when I picked you up and carried you out of that house, the walls around my heart shattered, were fucking decimated, a
nd you claimed it.” His stare grew impossibly intense. “I’ve spent the last year trying to deserve you.”

  Tears streaked down my face. “I’m so sorry you went through that. You didn’t deserve it, Tomas.” I kissed his jaw. “I wish it hadn’t taken me so long to come to you. I wish—”

  He shook his head, stopping me. “I’m okay. I’m not some rebellious teen trying to prove something, not anymore, certainly not to my father. I’ve moved past that hurt. He’s nothing to me now. You love me and that’s enough; that’s all I need. And as much as I wanted you before now, you weren’t ready. Now you are, and because of that, I have all of you.” He kissed me softly. “I’m going to make sure you don’t regret giving that to me, not for one moment.”

  Warmth curled in my chest. “How could I, when I’m with the man I love?”

  He made a rough sound.

  “Until you…” I had to swallow the lump forming in my throat. “I never knew…I had no idea…” I took a steadying breath. “Thank you for showing me what real love is,” I said.

  Tomas groaned and took my mouth, rolling me to my back.

  Then he made love to me all over again.

  14

  Stephanie

  I watched Tomas walk out of his wardrobe. He was doing up his tie as he walked toward me, his dark eyes moving over me still in his bed. Little zaps of pleasure shot through my belly from the sight of him.

  “Love seeing you like that,” he said.

  I lifted myself to my elbows. “Like what?”

  “All rumpled and recently fucked.”

  His voice had gotten grittier and I felt it between my thighs—where he’d spent most of the morning. “Feels pretty good over here as well,” I said grinning at him.

  His gaze dropped to my mouth, then he cursed and started loosening the tie he’d just done up. “Fuck it, I’m gonna cancel,” he said and started toward me.