Flawed Love
Page 20
“Slow down there, babe,” he grunts against my neck.
“Fuck me harder, then,” I say, throwing sass
“Greedy,” he groans. “I like it.”
I push my heel into his ass and he chuckles, but he fucks me harder. His hips slam against mine and his cock fills me so perfectly I can feel another orgasm rising to the surface already. I reach up, curling my fingers around his shoulders, digging my fingernails into his flesh. He hisses and grabs my breast, squeezing it roughly.
I love it.
“Come on, Mali,” he grunts against my neck. “Come.”
I close my eyes and arch up, pressing my breasts into his chest. He tilts his hips and then I’m coming, quickly, furiously, and unlike any other time I’ve had in my life. I scream his name for the entire world to hear, and I don’t give a damn. He makes my body ignite, lighting a fire inside me that no water could extinguish. Rainer Torrence has my heart, and now, he has my body.
The moment I’ve finished shuddering, he slides his cock from inside me, frantically tearing the condom off. His cock is swollen and an angry red, but I can’t take my eyes off it as he climbs up my body, straddling my waist. He takes my breasts in his hands, and I know that they’re probably not big enough for what he has planned, but I’m willing to let him try.
“W-w-w-will this hurt?” I ask in a trembling voice as he presses my breasts together.
“It shouldn’t,” he grinds out, as if it’s killing him to hold off. “But if it does, tell me.”
“Okay.”
He squeezes my breasts until they’re bulging together, then he slides his cock between them. It’s hot, and hard, and throbbing, and I can’t stop the whimper that leaves my throat. He moves his hips, causing a little bit of friction, and his eyes seem to glaze over with lust. His hard body moves over mine like a powerful machine, his hips thrusting a little faster to create enough pressure.
I can see his head poking out between my breasts and I want to lean forward and suck it, but I’m not sure I can get to it. I tip my chin down and slide out my tongue, touching it when he thrusts it in. “That’s a girl,” he grunts, getting faster. Obviously he’s pleased, so I do it again the next time his cock surges through. God, he tastes so good.
“I’m close,” he pants. “Tell me if you don’t want this.”
Oh, I want it. More than anything. It’s dirty, but I’m all in for dirty.
“I want it,” I breathe, eyes fixed on his cock plunging between my breasts.
“F . . . F . . . Fuck!” he barks and then it happens.
His cock swells, and strand after strand of white come spurts from the tip. I gasp in happy pleasure as it hits different parts of my body, but what makes it the most thrilling is seeing it up close. The pleasure it brings him is amazing. Pleasure coming from my body. No one else’s. His eyes are hooded, and his jaw is tight as he releases my breasts and encircles his cock with his hand, stroking in hard, short little bursts until there’s nothing left.
Our eyes meet.
A connection. It’s there. It’s brief, but it’s there.
“Wow,” I whisper, licking a drop of come from my bottom lip.
“Fuck,” he says, his eyes following the action.
He slowly moves his body from mine and climbs off the bed, disappearing into my bathroom and returning a moment later with a washcloth. I try not to stare openly at his naked body, but it’s hard. It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. My eyes travel over his tattoos and I’m fascinated by the intricate designs marking his skin. My eyes fall to one on his peck, and it seems my world stands still.
I must be seeing it wrong.
I have to be.
I blink a few times, and my bottom lip starts to tremble, because in amongst the arraignment of black ink is a name. You can barely see it in there because of the heavy designs surrounding it, but it’s most certainly a name. Three little letters. Emy. He has my name on his chest, right over his heart. I look away before he can see the tears that threaten to explode over. I close my eyes and keep them that way as he cleans my body.
“You okay?” he asks.
I take a shaky breath. “Ah, yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” I smile weakly.
I expect him to leave, but instead he drops back down onto the bed beside me, taking my hand.
It’s a tiny gesture, but it means the world to me.
If only he knew it.
~*~*~*~
“You have a lot of ink,” I say to Rainer as we lie side by side, staring at the ceiling.
“Yeah. It makes me feel good.”
“I’ve always been too scared to try it out.” I smile.
“It’s probably a good thing,” he murmurs, shifting so our legs touch. “Once you start, it’s hard to stop.”
“Do they have any special meanings?” I ask nervously, wondering about my name on his chest and hoping he’ll answer it.
“Every one of them.”
“Care to share?” I offer and he rolls to his side so he’s looking down at me, elbow propping his head up.
“The ones all over my back are covering scars.”
My eyes widen. “Scars?”
“Yeah, scars. I had a lot of them.”
He never had scars when I knew him. What the hell could have happened to him for him to get enough scars that he had to have them covered? That and his vagueness about the past is making me think he might have been in some sort of accident.
“Did you have a car accident or something?” I warily ask.
“Or something.”
That same answer. Always that same answer.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. I get that. I respect that.”
No. I don’t. I really don’t.
“Thanks,” he mumbles.
“But I’m still curious about the tattoos. What do the rest mean?” I point to one on his stomach, a long, beautifully carved chain that’s snapped on the end.
“That represents being caught, and being free.”
I run my fingers over it, and he shivers but he doesn’t ask me to stop so I don’t.
“And this?” I ask, stopping at a bright red rose hanging off the end of the chain, as if it’s hanging on for dear life.
“That’s for Pippa.”
I hope he doesn’t realize how my body jerks at that.
“What does it mean?” I force myself to ask in a normal tone.
“The same thing. Only more beautiful.”
Oh God.
“What about this one?” I point to the name over his heart, my name.
“The name or the design surrounding it?”
“Both,” I say.
“The name is a girl I used to know.”
“Used to?” I question casually.
“Yeah, she was my best friend growing up. I know that. I’m vague about the rest.”
“You don’t remember?”
He shrugs. “Things have happened and the memories aren’t what they should be, but I know she mattered to me, at that time, more than anyone in my world.”
My chest tightens and I want to throw my arms around his neck and tell him it’ll all be okay. I want him to know he’s not alone. That he still has that girl and he doesn’t even know it.
“Fuck me harder, then,” I say, throwing sass
“Greedy,” he groans. “I like it.”
I push my heel into his ass and he chuckles, but he fucks me harder. His hips slam against mine and his cock fills me so perfectly I can feel another orgasm rising to the surface already. I reach up, curling my fingers around his shoulders, digging my fingernails into his flesh. He hisses and grabs my breast, squeezing it roughly.
I love it.
“Come on, Mali,” he grunts against my neck. “Come.”
I close my eyes and arch up, pressing my breasts into his chest. He tilts his hips and then I’m coming, quickly, furiously, and unlike any other time I’ve had in my life. I scream his name for the entire world to hear, and I don’t give a damn. He makes my body ignite, lighting a fire inside me that no water could extinguish. Rainer Torrence has my heart, and now, he has my body.
The moment I’ve finished shuddering, he slides his cock from inside me, frantically tearing the condom off. His cock is swollen and an angry red, but I can’t take my eyes off it as he climbs up my body, straddling my waist. He takes my breasts in his hands, and I know that they’re probably not big enough for what he has planned, but I’m willing to let him try.
“W-w-w-will this hurt?” I ask in a trembling voice as he presses my breasts together.
“It shouldn’t,” he grinds out, as if it’s killing him to hold off. “But if it does, tell me.”
“Okay.”
He squeezes my breasts until they’re bulging together, then he slides his cock between them. It’s hot, and hard, and throbbing, and I can’t stop the whimper that leaves my throat. He moves his hips, causing a little bit of friction, and his eyes seem to glaze over with lust. His hard body moves over mine like a powerful machine, his hips thrusting a little faster to create enough pressure.
I can see his head poking out between my breasts and I want to lean forward and suck it, but I’m not sure I can get to it. I tip my chin down and slide out my tongue, touching it when he thrusts it in. “That’s a girl,” he grunts, getting faster. Obviously he’s pleased, so I do it again the next time his cock surges through. God, he tastes so good.
“I’m close,” he pants. “Tell me if you don’t want this.”
Oh, I want it. More than anything. It’s dirty, but I’m all in for dirty.
“I want it,” I breathe, eyes fixed on his cock plunging between my breasts.
“F . . . F . . . Fuck!” he barks and then it happens.
His cock swells, and strand after strand of white come spurts from the tip. I gasp in happy pleasure as it hits different parts of my body, but what makes it the most thrilling is seeing it up close. The pleasure it brings him is amazing. Pleasure coming from my body. No one else’s. His eyes are hooded, and his jaw is tight as he releases my breasts and encircles his cock with his hand, stroking in hard, short little bursts until there’s nothing left.
Our eyes meet.
A connection. It’s there. It’s brief, but it’s there.
“Wow,” I whisper, licking a drop of come from my bottom lip.
“Fuck,” he says, his eyes following the action.
He slowly moves his body from mine and climbs off the bed, disappearing into my bathroom and returning a moment later with a washcloth. I try not to stare openly at his naked body, but it’s hard. It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. My eyes travel over his tattoos and I’m fascinated by the intricate designs marking his skin. My eyes fall to one on his peck, and it seems my world stands still.
I must be seeing it wrong.
I have to be.
I blink a few times, and my bottom lip starts to tremble, because in amongst the arraignment of black ink is a name. You can barely see it in there because of the heavy designs surrounding it, but it’s most certainly a name. Three little letters. Emy. He has my name on his chest, right over his heart. I look away before he can see the tears that threaten to explode over. I close my eyes and keep them that way as he cleans my body.
“You okay?” he asks.
I take a shaky breath. “Ah, yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” I smile weakly.
I expect him to leave, but instead he drops back down onto the bed beside me, taking my hand.
It’s a tiny gesture, but it means the world to me.
If only he knew it.
~*~*~*~
“You have a lot of ink,” I say to Rainer as we lie side by side, staring at the ceiling.
“Yeah. It makes me feel good.”
“I’ve always been too scared to try it out.” I smile.
“It’s probably a good thing,” he murmurs, shifting so our legs touch. “Once you start, it’s hard to stop.”
“Do they have any special meanings?” I ask nervously, wondering about my name on his chest and hoping he’ll answer it.
“Every one of them.”
“Care to share?” I offer and he rolls to his side so he’s looking down at me, elbow propping his head up.
“The ones all over my back are covering scars.”
My eyes widen. “Scars?”
“Yeah, scars. I had a lot of them.”
He never had scars when I knew him. What the hell could have happened to him for him to get enough scars that he had to have them covered? That and his vagueness about the past is making me think he might have been in some sort of accident.
“Did you have a car accident or something?” I warily ask.
“Or something.”
That same answer. Always that same answer.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. I get that. I respect that.”
No. I don’t. I really don’t.
“Thanks,” he mumbles.
“But I’m still curious about the tattoos. What do the rest mean?” I point to one on his stomach, a long, beautifully carved chain that’s snapped on the end.
“That represents being caught, and being free.”
I run my fingers over it, and he shivers but he doesn’t ask me to stop so I don’t.
“And this?” I ask, stopping at a bright red rose hanging off the end of the chain, as if it’s hanging on for dear life.
“That’s for Pippa.”
I hope he doesn’t realize how my body jerks at that.
“What does it mean?” I force myself to ask in a normal tone.
“The same thing. Only more beautiful.”
Oh God.
“What about this one?” I point to the name over his heart, my name.
“The name or the design surrounding it?”
“Both,” I say.
“The name is a girl I used to know.”
“Used to?” I question casually.
“Yeah, she was my best friend growing up. I know that. I’m vague about the rest.”
“You don’t remember?”
He shrugs. “Things have happened and the memories aren’t what they should be, but I know she mattered to me, at that time, more than anyone in my world.”
My chest tightens and I want to throw my arms around his neck and tell him it’ll all be okay. I want him to know he’s not alone. That he still has that girl and he doesn’t even know it.
