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The throb in her pussy ignited. “Don’t be gentle.”

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Jay curled both hands around Charlee’s neck and attacked her mouth. His sudden aggression sizzled every cell in her body. He tasted and teased, deepening the kiss and swallowing her gasps with each thrust of his tongue. Their breaths became one and their hips rocked, reaching to close the gap between them.

The spicy scent of his mouth and skin overpowered her senses and magnified her hunger. She wanted him to bite her. Hard. She pulled at his waistband. Wanted him closer. Trembled to pull him inside.

He consumed her lips, pushing his tongue against hers, giving her glimpses of his gorgeous smile between nips. His hands moved over her shoulders and down her arms. When they bypassed her tingling breasts, she groaned in his mouth.

A laugh rolled over his tongue, half-suppressed by his rough exhale. His hands lowered to her belly, tickling a squeal from her, and slipped beneath the elastic at her hips.

He dipped his tongue for another taste and fluttered kisses over her cheekbone to her ear. “Lift.”

Body vibrating and head spinning, she arched her hips. Her leggings and panties lowered with his hands, bunching at her thighs.

“You’re shivering.” His naked chest pressed against hers, hot and silky with sweat.

“I’m not cold.” She combed her fingers through his hair and held onto his head as his nose stroked down her neck and over her breast.

Holding her gaze, he moved down her body and ran his lips over her stomach. Then he lowered his eyes.

Inhaling deeply, he twirled a finger through the wet hair between her legs. “Christ, Charlee. The red is natural?”

She nodded, slumping back. Her nipples ached so badly, she grabbed them, wiggling them up and down with pinched fingers to release some tension.

“Aw…God.” Eyes on her hands, he gripped the base of his dick and squeezed, his shoulders curling forward and his head dropping. Breathless seconds passed. Once he seemed to compose himself, he bent awkwardly in the confined space, tackled the laces on her boots, and yanked them off.

The rustling descent of her leggings and panties mingled with their heavy breaths. That done, her garments smacked the wall behind him. His hands shook as he spread her legs for his view.

A spasm hit her as suddenly as her thoughts, and she tried to close her legs. He was too close. He would see too much. Her scars…her shame.

He scooted her ass to the edge of the seat and looked up out of hooded eyes. “You okay?” He stroked a finger over her slit as he studied her face. It slid easily through her folds and chased away some of her fear. As long as he didn’t look inside. Her legs, bent over his muscular forearms, trembled with each touch. A wanton noise escaped her lips.

“Soaking wet, Charlee.” His lashes lowered as he watched his caress. “So fucking ready.”

If he knew what she was ready for, he wouldn’t sound so awed.

He crouched further to the floor, moving her legs to his shoulders, and dragging his lips along her thigh. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he spread her open with his fingers, his inspection scalding.

She squirmed and squeezed her legs around him. “Stop looking.”

He jerked his head up and his eyebrows climbed together. “Why?”

“The scars. They’re disgusting.” She choked back the flashes of Roy ripping and hurting, stealing everything, leaving her numb and empty.

Jay blinked, looked down, and his eyes narrowed. He eased his finger partially in, and she held her breath. He circled her entrance, stretching the skin. She wanted to feel it, tried to shed the shield that deadened her there.

He lowered his face, his breath warm on her thigh. “You should celebrate them.” His gaze drifted to hers and his mouth opened. As she watched with a mixture of horror and thrall, he flicked his tongue over her clit. “They’re a reminder.” Slowly, delicately, he licked along her outer lips. “That you survived.” His tongue passed over the scarred ridges inside her labia. “And healed.”

When he covered her with his mouth, she arched her back, hands flying to his head. His lips played over her as his tongue darted in and out, flicking and stirring. He made her want to feel. Made her want to try. But it was too easy to take herself to that contaminated part of her mind, where whips and canes beat her into numbness.

He swayed his hips with the thrust of his tongue, tasting her inside and out, his fingers digging into her thighs. One hand moved up to knead her breast. The other held her open for his mouth.

Doing her best to reach climax, she ground against his face and raked his hair, twisting and pulling. She swiveled her hips, tried to find the spot. Several minutes passed, maybe an hour. Small sensations gathered, but she couldn’t hang onto them.

Sexual tension clotted the room, thickening by the minute. He added a second finger and increased his effort. More pressure, more speed, and still she couldn’t let go.

Without slowing his hand, he buried his face against her contracting stomach. “Come for me, Charlee.”