Page 143 of Fire Fight

The flare of envy died in a flash, replaced by passion, desire, and security. I believed every word he said because he continued to show me how much he meant them, day in and day out. Like my life, I trusted him with my equally fragile and precious heart.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” I murmured a moment before he crashed his mouth to mine.

“What do you say, little phoenix? You going to let me fuck you under my mama’s roof?” he asked against my mouth. His roving hands slipped down my sides, grabbing healthy handfuls of my ass. In a beat, I was off my feet, my legs winding around his waist in a move that was now second nature. Instead of taking me to the bed, though, he perched me on the edge of the dresser.

“Yes, please,” I whispered, my breath stolen by the way he looked at me.

There was such reverence there, in his eyes and in his gentletouch as he reached for the button of my jeans, flipping it open and drawing down the fly. I leveraged myself up when he gripped the waistband, dragging them and my panties over my hips and thighs, peeling them off and discarding them behind him.

“Can you be quiet?”

“I–I can try,” I stuttered as his thumb brushed through my slit, making my thighs quake.

“Goddamnit, woman. How are you always so fucking wet for me?” he asked as he sucked his finger into his mouth.

“Take a look in the mirror, hotshot. You’ll figure it out.”

Crew grinned, that panty-melting smile a prime fucking example of why I was a horny mess around him at all times.

“I think there’s more to it than that.” His caress moved north from my thigh to my neck, pressure from his fingers against the sides of my windpipe eliciting a desperate gasp from me. “I think, for the first time in your life, you feel safe. In the bedroom, out of it. Mind, body, soul. It all fucking belongs to me, Aspen, and you know I’ll take care of you like my life depends on it—because it does.”

The thumb of his free hand toyed with my clit, glancing strokes against the nub as his palm remained against my neck.

“Now be a good girl and stay quiet while I fuck your perfect cunt with my fingers.”

All I could do was nod. I was beyond words anyway. The pleasure this man brought me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before, like something about his touch altered me on a chemical level to heighten everything he did. The gentle petting of my clit turned to insistent pressure as he slid two of those thick fingers into my pussy, and I threw my head back, ignoring the pain as it collided with the wall, my back arching, hips angling him deeper.

“God, Aspen. The way your cunt takes me. Fucking perfect. Take your shirt off, baby. Let me see those tits.”

I fumbled with the hem, awkwardly wrenching it from my body and adding it to the growing pile on the floor. I hadn’t bothered with a bra, and my eyes popped open to watch Crew’s darken to that stormy sea blue I loved so much. I’d always been self-conscious about my boobs—until Crew. Now, I knew my body was perfect, because it was perfect forhim. Thanks to him, I no longer flinched at the sight or feel of my burn marks, the shiny skin that was still pink and would take years to fully turn the white of old scars. Crew loved me, and I knew he would until we were old and grey.

A grumble emanated from his chest, the pressure on my throat increasing slightly.

“You have no idea how perfect you are,” he murmured, leaning close to draw the lobe of my ear, lined with golden studs of various shapes and sizes, between his teeth.

The amalgamation of sensations was nearly too much to stand. My tight nipples brushing against the fabric of his cotton tee. My slightly restricted airway making me lightheaded. The erogenous zone he’d unlocked playing with my ear. And of course, the fingers in my pussy. I was a ball of unspent desire, gasping little whimpers leaving me as I wordlessly begged Crew for more, my hips swiveling against his palm, searching for friction on my clit.

“Needy little slut,” he chuckled, pressing a rough kiss to my cheek.

“Please,” I hissed.

“Damn do I love when you beg.”

He rewarded me with a third finger, stretching me almost uncomfortably. Despite all the times we’d fucked in the last month, it still took me a moment to adjust to his size—fingers and cock alike. But the sting quickly soothed to a wave of thigh-quaking ecstasy as he curled those fingers against the perfect spot and pressed his palm harder to my clit. I began to rock back and forth on the dresser, neither of us giving a fuckas it thumped metronomically into the wall as I sought my release.

My orgasm coiled tighter and tighter in my core, lightning sparking under my skin. Pulse racing, breathing erratic, heart rate climbing. Every muscle in my body clenched in preparation, but I held on, even as Crew’s fingers sped up, driving me higher and higher.

“Let go,” he demanded. “Let-fucking-go, Aspen.”

I shattered.

Crew’s hands left me in an instant as he dropped to his knees in time for me to squirt all over his face. I white-knuckled the edges of the dresser as I spasmed, gasping for air, anchoring myself to this reality while I lost myself in the pure bliss he’d driven me to.

Through heavily lidded eyes, my vision hazy from the force of my climax, I watched him between my thighs, mouth open, catching my cum on his tongue, his cheeks and chin glistening. At last, the aftershocks ceased, and I sagged, chest heaving.

“Jesus Christ,” I breathed.

“That was certainly a religious experience,” he agreed, swiping a hand over his face. “I feel like you just baptized me.”