Page 20 of Broken Dream (Steel Legends #3)

Chapter Seventeen

Angie

His mouth is on mine before I can react. His kiss is intense, desperate, and starving. It’s a hunger I feel myself, throbbing in every cell of my body. Yet it scares me. Not in a creepy, aggressive way, but in an overwhelming passion that threatens to consume me.

I gasp into his mouth. My knees weaken, but he steadies me with his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

He tastes like wine and sadness and a hidden fire that he’s only just letting out. It’s intoxicating. And terrifying.

I clutch on to his shirt, the fabric crumpling beneath my grip. A strange fluttering blooms in my stomach, fueled by his sudden intensity and the taste of his lips against mine.

I recognize his kiss, but this time it’s different.

It’s not only sadness I sense but anger.

Rage even.

But beneath all of that, I sense something tender. Something faint and almost fragile.

Longing. Need. Hope.

He deepens the kiss, and I throw inhibition to the wind. It’s not as if Ralph can see us now. My heart beats wildly as I kiss him back. His tongue is both harsh and smooth. He tastes of tomatoes and wine, of lust and savagery. Of…Jason.

He presses our bodies together. A low groan escapes him, vibrating through me and making me quake.

But then he breaks the kiss, his breath ragged. He pulls away slightly. His green gaze is intense, almost pained. Emotions flicker across his face, all unreadable.

He swallows hard, a muscle in his jaw ticking. Then without a word, he turns away abruptly and strides toward the door.

Without thinking, I follow him. Grab his arm. Jerk him back toward me. “Don’t go, Jason. Please.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he says.

I widen my eyes. “I’m not asking for anything. You can’t leave.” I run my fingers up and down his arm. “Something’s bothering you. Let me help.”

“Help?” He laughs. “You psychiatrists are all the same.”

I tilt my head. “I’m a first-year medical student, Jason. I’m far from a psychiatrist. I just want to help you.”

His green eyes darken. “There’s only one thing you can do to help me right now, Angie, and it’s not talking.”

I bite my lower lip, swallowing. “Then let me. I want to help you in any way I can.”

His lips are on mine once more, his tongue devouring me, until he breaks the kiss again with a smack. “Be sure,” he says, his voice rough. “Be fucking sure, because once we start this, we’re not stopping.”

“I—”

“I don’t care that you’re my student. I don’t care that I’m your teacher. I don’t care about any of it. So be fucking sure. ”

I’m not sure. Not even slightly.

Except that I am.

I want this.

I want him.

And damn the consequences.

“Kiss me,” I say. “Kiss me, Jason, and let me show you how sure I am.”

His eyes flicker with something like relief before he pulls me against him, his hands rugged and rough. His lips collide with mine, a storm of passion and unspoken promises. He touches my cheeks, my shoulders, my arms. My heart drums out erratic beats that thump all the way through me.

He pulls slightly away and stares at me with those intense eyes clouded with desire yet still carrying a hint of vulnerability.

And I see him.

I see Jason.

He’s strong yet broken. Guarded yet yearning for something more.

Does he see me ?

Does he see that I’m not untried but still pretty innocent? That I’m imperfect too?

“Are you scared?” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.

“A little,” I say in truth. “But not enough to stop.”

A ghost of a smile flits across his face before being replaced by a look of raw desire. “Then don’t.”

In the dim lighting of the kitchen, I see him again. All of him. The beauty and the pain, the strength and the vulnerability. His eyes speak volumes—stories of hurt, betrayal, solitude, yearning—and it draws me in like a moth to flame.

I want to help him. Give him what he needs in this moment. And if it’s not talking? I’m good with that.

He pulls me closer and wraps his arms around me. His lips descend onto mine once again. The kiss is demanding and intense—a kiss that stirs up feelings inside me that I never knew existed.

He moves from my mouth to my ear. “I need you,” he whispers.

And I realize with a jolt of surprise—and maybe a bit of fear—that I need him too.

He pulls back, his gaze locked with mine, those piercing eyes looking for some sign of resistance, some hint that I want him to stop. But there’s none. Because right now, in this moment, all I want is him.

“Right here, right now,” he grits out before he pulls my shirt over my head and discards it on the kitchen floor.

He drops his gaze to my breasts before he pops open the front fastener of my bra.

He sucks in a breath. “Fucking gorgeous.” Then he drops his head and takes a nipple between his teeth, biting it harder than I expect.

I let out a sharp yelp but move to tangle my fingers in his hair as pleasure and pain collide, swirling around in my chest. I arch my back, and he groans against me, the vibrations sending shock waves through me.

He slides his free hand down my stomach before sneaking under the waistband of my jeans. His touch is flaming hot against my skin. Even through the fabric of my panties, I feel the searing heat of his fingers.

“Jason,” I gasp, clutching on to his shoulders for support as he teases me through the fabric, sending sparks of electric pleasure through me.

He pulls away from my breast with a smug grin. I can’t help a whimper at the loss.

His grin only widens at my frustration, and he presses a quick kiss to my lips before dropping to his knees.

He unbuttons and unzips my jeans and pulls them down along with my panties, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. He looks at me with an intensity that makes me shiver in anticipation. Then he leans in, wrapping his arms around my thighs to pull me closer.

He slides his lips over my abdomen, trailing a path from my navel downward. With every touch, every flick of his tongue, he sends pleasure coursing through me.

“Jason,” I gasp again.

Without giving me any warning, he delves deeper with his tongue, sliding it through the folds of my pussy. The sensation is so intense, I can’t help but cry out. My legs buckle beneath me, but he holds me up, his grip on my thighs tightening as he continues to eat me.

The pleasure builds up inside me until it becomes unbearable. “Jason,” I plead as I buck against him.

But he doesn’t let up, only quickens his pace.

And I’m spiraling…

Spiraling out of control. Ecstasy crashes over me in waves, and I cry out his name as my body convulses under the assault of pleasure.

The orgasm pulses through me like a freight train.

It goes on and on and on and on…

Jason is relentless with his tongue, and when he slides a finger into me, I shatter once more. Even harder this time.

My God, I’ve had climaxes before, but this…

This…

The waves shred me, leave me in a puddle on the kitchen floor.

And he still licks, licks, licks…

As the last tremors of my release fade away, he rises. His eyes are smoky and intense as he gazes at me, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“God, Angie,” he says hoarsely. “You’re incredible.”

Before I can respond, he’s kissing me again, his hands roaming my body as if he can’t get enough.

I taste myself on his tongue. A tang of musk mixed with tomato soup and wine.

Without breaking our kiss, Jason unbuttons his shirt and discards it on the floor next to mine.

His chest is sculpted, a work of art adorned with a smattering of dark hair that trails down to his lower abdomen.

I explore him, tracing the hills and valleys of his muscles.

He shivers against my touch, a low moan escaping his lips.

He steps back, grabs a condom out of his pocket, and then unfastens his belt and pushes down his jeans and briefs in one swift motion. He stands before me, naked, his body an irresistible blend of raw masculinity and vulnerability.

And his cock…

A gorgeous masterpiece of velvet over steel.

“Jason,” I breathe. I trace the line of hair from his chest to his pubic hair. I close my eyes, feeling the rough texture under my fingertips.

I hear the rip of the condom wrapper, and then I feel him guiding me back against the kitchen counter, its cold marble surface pressing into my bare skin. His body is a warm contrast as he pulls me close to him again, claiming my lips.

We touch each other’s bodies, exploring every curve and crevice. His touch is urgent, desperate.

It mirrors my own.

He lifts me with ease and sets me onto the cold kitchen counter. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he positions himself between them.

No hesitation or second thoughts now.

This is the point of no return.

And I’m more than ready.