I swiped at an errant tear that escaped my eye. He got up and kneeled at my side. Then he caught my face in his big hands, turned me to face him and wiped gently at the stream of moisture leaking from my eyes.
“omeone who wrongs you doesn’t make you the fool. It makes that person foolish for not honoring the gift of trust they’ve been given.” Who was this man? He was saying all the right things as my heart felt heavy from the past. “And no one can blame you for finding it hard to trust again. But don’t give up on it. There are those that would cherish that gift,” he said.
I nodded as my lips trembled, wondering if he’d meant himself.
When he got to his feet and went back to his chair, on one hand I was grateful. It gave me a chance to hold back the torrent of tears that threaten to spill over, which I hated. On the other, I wanted that contact back. I got up and stalked over to him. “Let’s not talk about this.”
As I got closer, Striker leaned back so he could meet my eyes better. I made it easier for him and straddled his lap.
“What are you doing?” he asked, but he didn’t sound unhappy about it.
I’d long ago come to terms with the past. I didn’t want it invading my present. “I don’t want those memories in my head. Help me erase them.”
“Princess,” he said, sounding hoarse.
Remembering his words that he wouldn’t touch me unless I begged, I said, “Please.”
And as he snapped, his mouth crushed mine as if he wanted to win a war. His hands got busy removing my bikini top. Then plates crashed to the floor before my ass was in their place.
I would have to consider the designer who made the bikini. It tore like paper in his hands. His mouth was hot as his tongue circled my clit. He hoisted my legs over his broad shoulders and pulled me closer as he thrust his tongue deep inside me. My back arched from the pleasure that built fast. The band between my core and my brain tightened. His fingers played with my nipples until everything snapped and I came with abandon.
The man was a master and he didn’t stop until my inner walls calmed. When he pulled back, I recognized his haunted eyes.
“Don’t stop,” I begged because if I was right, he needed this as much as I did. “I’m saying yes, and I need ownership of that.”
Everyone had their own way of dealing with trauma. This was mine. Reclaiming my right to say yes was healing for me. I unclamped my legs from around him and he stood. I spread my legs wide in invitation and hoped he’d accept.
He hooked his thumbs in the shorts he was wearing and pushed them down. His amazing cock sprang free and aimed at me. He planted his hands on either side of my head and dipped down. I opened my mouth, giving his tongue access.
He kissed me slowly until I grabbed his ass and pulled him toward me. His left hand disappeared to angle his cock at my opening. When he plunged forward, it was like coming home. He felt like home. Like everything I’d been missing all of these months was finally whole.
Tears leaked from my eyes for the girl who’d had her innocence stolen. Also for what I feared had happened to the man above me. I clung to him, not wanting him to see me cry. Knowing him as I did, he would stop and that was the last thing I wanted.
To fan the flames between us, I slipped my hand around and stroked his balls.
He groaned. “If you don’t stop, this is going to end soon.”
Feeling as though you had the kind of power to bring a man to his knees was a rush. I didn’t stop.
He lost a step in his rhythm. He got me back by using his thumb to circle my clit until we were both coming as though our lives depended on it. He hovered above me, muscles bunches as his one arm kept him from crushing me as we caught our breaths. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt him retreating.
I used my hand to turn his face back to mine. “Don’t leave me,” I begged. “Stay with me.”
He nodded, and soon I was airborne in his arms. I wound my legs around his waist as he walked us back toward the bedroom. We ended up in the shower. Powerful jets from multiple angles came on and at the proper temperature. Then my back was against the tiled wall and he buried his face in my neck.
Water maybe mixed with tears wet my skin as my emotions continued to spill from my eyes. There was so much ugliness in the world, but as Striker miraculously moved inside me again, I felt everything beautiful in this man.