Page 34 of Ly to Me (Devils of Alliston Springs #1)

Carver

The Redo

I gave my heart to Lyra Thomas before I lost my virginity to her.

I didn’t give her a piece or a chunk, I gave her the whole damn thing.

I didn’t realize that at the time. It wasn’t until I tried to numb the pain by indulging in any woman who hit on me that it struck me that I might have a problem.

Flash me a smile or call me sexy, and I was sold.

I started fucking to feel, but ended up getting the opposite result.

Every time I hooked up with someone, I felt less. Became less.

Hollow would be too expressive of a word to say how I felt during those times, because I just…didn’t. Not even the shell of me had anything to give. It was a shock that I’d been able to come at all with anyone that wasn’t her.

The first petite brunette I slept with after Lyra triggered a response I didn’t know I was capable of having.

Hadn’t even registered to try recreating her image, but it fucking worked.

If I turned them over, covered their face, and focused on the hair or pieces of their body that were similar enough, I’d be able to picture her beneath me.

It was always her. I didn’t even try to fight it. What worked, worked.

Ten years of doing that, however, had turned me cold. Even I could see the monster I’d become.

I didn’t care.

No one cared.

Article Five was supposed to break me free from that.

Sure, it served other purposes. It was traditional for a marriage to have sex involved.

Lyra needed to appear like she was mine by anyone who saw her so no one would question our sudden marriage.

There were only a few people still in town who would recognize her, like Helen, but none that would stop by anytime soon.

The excuse that we were high school sweethearts would work, but would also start shit with Jamie that I just didn’t want to get into.

He didn’t need to be privy to more of my personal life than he already was.

Lyra saw Article Five and spat on it, then rubbed it in my face that no matter what I did, she wasn’t going to come around.

She was in it for the money, and I was ready to throw fifty thousand dollars at her feet just to keep her for longer.

But then she destroyed my truck, let me take her out, and tried to cover the fact she had tears steadily streaming down her face the entire ride back home.

Maybe I was being hopeful as hell, but it made me think she did care.

It was dumb of me to think her caring again would lead to the same place I’d arrived at when I gave in. Last time she showed she cared, she fucking ran.

When we got back home, Lyra didn’t give me time to get out and get the door for her.

I watched through the windshield as she bolted inside, slamming every door she walked through with a loud bang.

The drawn curtains inside our home allowed me a clear view until she reached the bathroom, which had become something like her haven.

Reaching into the back seat of the truck, I grabbed the few grocery bags I’d meant to bring in earlier—in my excitement to see her, I’d forgotten all about them—and headed inside.

I decided to give her some time before going right for where I knew she’d gone, knowing if I pushed her too far, she’d just bolt.

I ended up pacing the living room, swinging the bag at my side, talking myself up and then down again.

She might scream at me, try to fight me, and end up runnin’.

Or, she might finally talk.

Run. Talk. Run. Talk.

Run…

Fucking hell .

Forty-five minutes was long enough to wait for another door to slam or water to start running. When neither of those happened, I entered our bedroom.

Not asleep, then .

“Ly.” I drummed my knuckles on the bathroom door. Silence. “Ly, please—”

The door ripped open, and my gaze shot to her red, puffy eyes, and blotches of pink on her cheeks and neck. “Here.” I turned and held the bags out to her, giving her space to do the thing I hadn’t been able to since she left— feel .

She sniffled as the weight of the bags lifted from my fingers. “What’s this?”

I reached back and cupped my neck. “Um…things you might need. I don’t know.”

The bags rustled. “Hair ties?”

“It gets hot. I don’t know where you went off to, but the summer here is still just as terrible as it always has been.” I decided to leave out how I’d wished I had something to keep her hair back when she drank too much.

More rustling behind me allowed the heavy breath I’d been holding to leave unnoticed. Her voice came out soft, and a little broken as she said, “Georgia.”

“What?” My head whipped just over my shoulder, then spun back to face the bed.

“Georgia. Right past the border. That’s where I went.” I nodded, images of searching so many streets and towns flashing through my mind. For almost a year I did that—searching and hoping—before finally deciding she’d gone so far, I’d never find her again. “You got me tampons?”

“Didn’t know what you’d need, but seein’ as I have nothing here for… that kind of thing—”

“A woman, you mean.” This time when she spoke, it almost sounded like she was smiling.

I couldn’t help but turn. Fuck the space, I wanted to see—

That .

“And face masks?” Her smile widened as she dug deeper into the bag. I felt like it was my birthday, or Christmas—something with gifts. Her lighting up was better than any gift I’d been given lately. “You remembered I like dark chocolate?”

I remember everything, sweetheart.

“Yeah,” I admitted.

She scanned the shower wall, probably wondering where her things would go. I didn’t wait to add, “I’m getting one of those shelf things. Should be here tomorrow, but if you don’t want to wait, just put my stuff on the floor or toss it. I don’t care. Take the whole shower if you want.”

She nodded weakly and set the bags down. Her cheeks were less red when she looked up at me, but were damp. More tears.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to make you cry more.”

Her hands clasped behind my neck. “Thank you,” she whispered into my chest.

My arms circled around her slowly, and as my chin dipped to rest on the crown of her head, I took in a deep breath, as if before this it had been too difficult to do so. Notes of oak and sunshine floated from her as I held her to me.

If someone ever said sunshine didn’t have a smell, then I’d say they’d never breathed before. Truly, breathed. I’d been trapped in a cycle of LED lights at the facility, then dark nights by myself. But, her scent, her warmth, her touch—it was giving me the breath I’d thought I’d lost forever ago.

She was pure sunshine—mixed with a little bit of me.

I wanted to ask her why she picked Georgia. Why she left me and this town without leaving a note or saying goodbye. I took another deep breath above her hair and chose silence, instead.

“Car?”

“Yeah, Ly?”

She sniffled again, her cheek pressing against my thundering heart. “I’m sorry for earlier.”

“It’s okay.” I stroked my palm down her hair. “I get why you did it.” Though it hurt like fucking hell.

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“Neither does me adding that into the contract. Giving yourself to me should be up to you. Not about money or how others perceive us.”

“Is that why you crumpled it up?” She lifted her chin, propping it on my chest.

I dipped my chin to look back at her. “Somethin’ like that.”

Her dark hair fell like water through my fingers as she pulled back, and my heart sank to my gut. I’d said something stupid, or done something wrong. Maybe she saw the mini first-aid kit and got mad about the glass I had her kneel in, or—

“Can I have a redo?”

“A redo?” My brows dipped as her fingers threaded through mine, and her backward steps moved us closer to the bed. “You don’t have to, Ly. You already fulfilled it. I won’t make you—”

“You said giving myself to you should be up to me, and the way I see it, it was up to me in the truck, just like it’s up to me right now.” Her ass met the edge of our bed, her fingers dropping mine as she kicked off her boots and scooted back.

I stepped in between her thighs as she settled back on her elbows, my thumbs rubbing her knees. “You sure this is what you want?”

“Yes.”

My hands smoothed up her thighs. “It won’t be fast.”

Her throat bobbed. “I know.”

“I’ll want to kiss you.”

“I know that, too.” She sat up and gripped my shirt.

I followed her pull, bringing my lips closer to hers.

Lyra’s gaze darted between my lips and eyes, her back arching toward me as her breaths became clipped.

She reached up and grazed her thumb over my bottom lip, and I groaned.

Smooth as silk fingers continued over my upper lip, tracing the small divot in the center.

“Lyra,” I growled. “If you’re not serious, I’ll go mad.”

“I mean it,” she whispered.

“You’ll let me have you how I’ve dreamed of having you? How I’ve wanted to have you for every hour of every day since you’ve been gone?”

She reached behind her, but kept her focus on me as the zipper of her dress parted. Lyra pulled the bows of her straps apart next, letting the top of her dress pool around her waist, exposing her hardening nipples.

“Yes,” she answered.

My cock strained painfully, begging to be released. “You’re so fucking perfect.” I palmed a breast, and she whimpered.

“I want you.” Her lips parted, body ebbing in the space between us. “I want you to be soft, and slow, and to kiss me as much as you want.”

My fingers trailed up to her neck, closing around her throat softly. “That’s an awful lot of kissing.”

I stayed there, waiting for her to close the distance.

When she did, my core turned to fire.

Our kiss wasn’t soft. It was hungry, desperate, and heated. Her tongue welcomed mine as I scooped her in my arms and laid on the bed, settling her above me.

Lyra clawed at the buttons on my shirt, then my belt and jeans. Each piece I removed made her eyes wider and hungrier. My hands found her thong along her hips and ripped the fabric at the seams as she lifted her dress above her head and threw it across the room.

Like animals in heat, we kept going until nothing was between us. No barriers, no walls, no ulterior motives. This was us. This was how we should have been from the start.

My cock was throbbing as she ground against me, both of us too lost in kissing and touching and feeling.

The barbells under my dick spurred her arousal along, coating my skin with her .

I didn’t intentionally get the piercing to please women.

It was just another method I tried to make me feel something again.

Hearing her moan as I guided my cock over her slit, letting each strained bar rub over her clit, gave them a deeper purpose.

“Are you too sore for this?”

“No.” Her nails dug into my abdomen.

“Are you sure?” I slid my hands down the slight curves of her sides, ending on her ass. Guiding her soaked cunt over my cock, I watched in complete awe as her reddened clit ground over me with need.

She groaned, writhing above me. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to come like this.”

“If you come right now, I’ll make sure you do it again and again.”

“Car, I’m serious,” she whined.

“I am, too. You’re going to be covering me in your cum tonight. We’re not sleeping.”

“Keep doing that,” she moaned louder, rocking her hips as I kept up my slow glides over her center. “Keep talking like that.”

I smacked her ass, and she let out a yelp. “I want every drop wrung from your body.”

“Hmm.”

“Your pussy deserves to be worshipped, and I’m going to fill it to the fucking brim with all of my praise.”

“Fuck. More. ”

I lifted and wrapped my arms around her, then nipped the soft skin beneath her ear. “I want to devour you and taste you when you come.”

“Wha—”

I went flat and yanked her body up by her hips. She gasped as I settled her above my face, and when I started devouring her, drinking in her arousal and sucking on her clit, her moans grew louder.

Her hand smacked the front of the headboard. “Fuck, Car. That feels so damn good.” She ground down on my face, seeking her own pleasure. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. “ Yes .”

“Soak my face, beautiful. I can’t wait to bury myself inside this perfect, tight cunt of yours.”

She shattered above me, legs trembling with the orgasm as I continued to suck and lick. She whimpered as I thrust my tongue inside her, meaning what I said before literally—I wanted to devour her.

“Ohmygod.” I fisted the globes of her ass, keeping her in place.

“Carver, I’m gonna—” Another smack hit the headboard.

“ Fuck me.” I reached up to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples, rolling them between my fingers.

Another orgasm racked through her, and when I looked up from between her legs, my dick throbbed more.

Painfully. She was so fucking beautiful as she writhed above me.

I roamed her body hungrily, wanting more. Needing more . I needed to see and taste and feel all of her.

Her body became limp, only being held up by my hands and the way she was leaning into the headboard. My vision latched onto the sway of her breasts and tight peaks of her nipples, a groan slipping from me as I took in the slight imprint of hands.

My hands.

I stared up at her from between her drenched, parted thighs, noting the way her hair fell down in a mess of waves—again, made from my hands.

And as she shimmied back down my body, I saw the other imprint I left on her ass. A strong, primal urge to keep them there forever surged through my body, making precum drip from the tip of my cock.

My fucking hands were everywhere along my wife’s body—right where they were supposed to be.