Page 92 of Redeemed (Dirty Air 4)

“What about the magic word?”

“Orgasm?”

She laughs up to the ceiling. “No.”

“Cock.”

“Please.”

“I knew you could beg if you really put your mind to it.” I trace a finger across the damp material covering the place I desperately want to taste.

“Bastard.”

“I prefer bastard who’s about to make you come, but we’ll get you there eventually.”

Chloe’s body trembles as I press my thumb against her clit. She follows my command, spreading her legs in front of me.

The shadows give me little ability to memorize how she looks, and I hate it. But what I do know is she’s perfect. So fucking perfect, I’m beside myself with excitement. It’s been a long time since I’ve had any kind of connection with someone like this. I soak it up, enjoying it for exactly what it is. Human connection. Something so fundamental I’ve denied myself for years.

I trace my fingers up her legs with the lightest touch. It’s faint, enough to tell her I’m here. To make sure she knows I’m the one in control of the situation. Her skin pebbles as my fingers clutch onto her underwear. I tug the satin strip of fabric down and tuck it into my pocket.

My confidence grows at her enthusiasm. God, my mouth practically waters at the sight of her spread in front of me. The flashlight from my phone reveals the faintest smile on her lips. I latch onto that image of her, burning it into my memory as my lips descend on her. I leave behind kisses on her inner thigh before I trace her seam with my tongue.

The moan she lets out has my dick throbbing in my pants. I become addicted to every groan and breathless sigh she releases as I pleasure her. It’s the best feeling, bringing her to life in the same way she does to me. I’m a lost man, finding bits and pieces of myself again with Chloe’s help.

She goes wild as I suck on her clit. My little hellion, unrestrained and needy, begging for my cock with her whimpers. I sink a finger into her, and she clutches onto my hair with a sigh. If I thought I was addicted to Chloe before, I’m a goner now. Don’t bother signing me up for rehab.

Touching her is a dream, with her being incredibly responsive to anything I do. Heat trickles down my spine as she takes my next two fingers without protest.

Getting Chloe off is my next favorite thing, right up there with making her laugh. I torture her, bringing her to the edge of pleasure before retreating again.

Her fingers clutch onto my hair, tugging at the root. “If you don’t make me come, I swear to God when I return the favor, you’ll be begging for way longer than me.”

I smile, increasing the tempo of my fingers pumping into her. I suck on her clit and use my tongue to my advantage.

Her moan echoes off the walls as she comes apart above me. I don’t stop until her body quits shaking and her fingers release my hair from her death grip.

Her head hits the wall behind her with a thump. “It’s official. I discovered the cure to claustrophobia.”

“Orgasms?”

She giggles. Her distraction cloaks my struggle as I lift myself up from the ground with the help of the handlebar. I wince at the pressure on my leg, a hiss escaping my mouth before I can catch myself.

Chloe grabs onto my hand. “Are you okay?”

There’s nothing I want more than for Chloe to forget that I’m different. I don’t need to be coddled because she thinks I shouldn’t do what a normal man can. Fuck that. Fuck it all to hell and back because I’m over that shit around her. I’m all man. No injury or metal leg can stop me from proving that to her.

I ignore her question, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her toward me. My lips press against hers. Our kiss is charged. Crazed. Needy. Like every cell in my body is on a mission to fire off at the same time.

She wraps her arms around my neck and pushes her body into mine. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I grind my erection into her.

She runs her hand down my chest and lands on the band of my trousers. I drop my head in the crook of her neck and groan as she nears the place begging for her attention. And I mean begging. I consider the pre-cum leaking from my tip as tears of joy. It’s been too long since I’ve enjoyed this genuine kind of contact—one full of desperation and lust. I’d beg on my knees for her touch if it didn’t make me look like some kind of freak.

I freeze as the image of Chloe being eye level with my prosthetic leg harasses my brain. The thought kills my lust-crazed buzz. I clutch onto her hand and return it back around my neck.

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” I move to kiss her again, but she pulls back.