“For being…” she gestured to her body, “like this.”
He rolled her under him and stretched over her. His cock nestled between her thighs as he took her mouth captive, sweeping her up in a kiss so urgent she opened her legs to him, her body seeking his like a dormant flower seeking the sun.
She gasped when he broke away, kissing his way down her neck, touching his lips to the well at the center of her collarbone before leaning back to look at her.
He ran a finger from her chin down to her chest, circling her right nipple before touching a finger to the scar under her breast. He leaned in to lay his lips gently against it.
She kept her hands at her side, torn between the twin tortures of being so exposed and needing him inside her as he kissed his way down her stomach, lingering over another scar. This one hurt more than any of the others, and she closed her eyes as he covered the puckered skin with his lips.
“Look at me, Alexa.”
She opened her eyes and looked down to find him staring up at her, his touch light as a feather against the scar under her breast.
“I see only beauty here,” he said, his voice gruff. He traced a path to the next scar. “And here.”
She turned her head. “You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t. But I want to, and I’ll listen when you’re ready.” He kneeled between her legs and took her hand, wrapped it around his erect shaft. “Until then, can’t you trust that I want you? Can’t you feel it here, even if you don’t believe it here?” He placed his fingers on her chest over her heart.
The skin was stretched tight over his cock, straining between his legs, throbbing in her hand.
She blinked back the tears in her eyes and stroked him long and slow. “Show me.”
15
She didn’t even know how fucking beautiful she was, that was the thing that pierced his heart like a poison arrow. Spread out in front of him all he could see was the shine of her hair against the pillow, the strong jut of her chin, defiant even when she was so scared she was trembling. Her breasts were full and ripe, her nipples a dusky pink that made him think of English roses and winter sunsets.
Her waist was narrow, her stomach soft in all the right places. Her hips were round and full, narrowing to legs that were long and muscled, strong and shapely from all her hours in the gym and running through the city.
Her scars were like webs of silver, like the kintsugi bowls repaired by the Japanese with precious metals to highlight the places where they’d been broken, where they’d healed stronger than ever before. They spoke of strength and will, of the kind of heart people could never really know they had until they were tested the way she’d been tested. Her scars were proof that she had it in spades, that she’d proven herself a fighter a hundred times over.
Her eyes shone with tears as she looked up at him, naked and glorious on the bed. Her hand was like satin against the sensitive skin of his shaft, the stroke of her palm enough to send him over the edge.
He’d wanted to drive into her the second his lips had touched her, the second she’d been naked in front of him. He’d forced himself to go slow, sensing her fear behind the straight set of her spine, her stoic silence when he’d approached her in the living room, like the moment was one she had to soldier through instead of enjoy.
And he wanted her to enjoy it. Was going to make sure she enjoyed it.
He grabbed her wrist. “I’m not going to be able to show you anything if you don’t get your hand off my cock. Now.”
She unwrapped her fingers and he lowered his lips to hers, groaning as he took possession of her mouth, the head of his cock on fire as it brushed against the heat at her center.
He didn’t trust himself in that position, didn’t trust himself not to take what she was offering, and he wanted to do more than serve his own need for release, wanted to make it last.
He kissed his way down her body, showering her old injuries with kisses on his way to the cleft between her legs.
“Jesus, Alexa…” She made him wish he was a different man, one who could paint her or write a poem for her or write a song about her. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
He pushed her knees apart. Her pussy was perfect, pink and glistening, and he lowered his face between her thighs and breathed her in, savoring the scent of her skin mingled with her body’s musky desire.
She grabbed onto the sheets as if she were bracing herself for an assault, but when he brought his tongue to the petals of her sex she sighed, sinking into his mouth with something like relief.
He flicked his tongue against the hard little bud before drawing it into his mouth.
She moaned long and low and he slid his fingers through her folds while he sucked, burying them in her slick heat.
He pressed against the softness of her G-spot and licked her clit, matching the rhythm of his fingers with the motion of his mouth. She tasted so good, so sweet, and he lapped at her pussy like an animal desperate for water, drinking from a hidden spring deep in the forest.
“Please…” she gasped. “Nick…”