The Rebirth of Sin (Wicked Trinity Book 2) (27 page)

I called out, gripping the sheets beneath me as he continued his teasing pace. “Harder,” I pleaded.

“Are you sure that’s what you want, Keaton?” he questioned with his voice soaked in sex. “Are you sure you can handle it?” Something wet and warm ran up my spine, exacerbating my need to tremble.

“Yes. Please.”

His thrusts became more viscous, rendering a friction between us that made my eyes roll back and my body tremble. His cock stretched me, manipulating every pleasure point that could possibly be touched inside me. Hard and fast slams made me jar and hold onto the sheets to steady myself from the powerful movement of his body. 

My physical and mental senses were under his expert spell: His touch. The way he moved and felt inside me. His heavy breaths. His sensuous groans and grunts. The increasingly intoxicating scent of him. 

Everything about Braedan in this moment consumed me and obliterated me. My body tensed on the verge of an ascension so consuming my brain became overwhelmed, and I cried out his name. 

The heaviness of his body crashed down on me, pushing me flat on mattress. The perspiration coating his skin bedewed my already damp back. Clutching my hand, he removed it from attacking the sheets. Undulating only his hips, he stroked inside me vigorously. 

Soft and silky material muffled my cries. A good chunk of my hair was pulled back, forcing my body to arc and my face away from the mattress while he thrust into me at a frenzied pace. 

The expertise and the momentum in the sway of hips made me think he’d somehow studied my body before and knew everything it needed to make me climax like I never had.

The exquisite burn pulled me under. I let go completely, crying in exultation. 

His enticing and soft satisfied groans in reaction to my vocal displays touched me in the most endearing and sensual way. Capturing my ear between his lips, he placed open-mouth kisses on the shell and sucked hard on my lobe. Directing my position, his grip bit into my thighs and pushed me up to lay sideways. The heat stemming from his body in waves pressed against my side. My legs were pushed up and over until my back rolled flat against the mattress with my lower half turned. 

“Braedan,” I gasped, clutching the sheets as he entered me again.

The deep and slow pace rebuilt a sensation that was once waning. A hand clasped my jaw pulling me closer to his heat. Open-mouthed sounds made my lips part with my incoherent declarations. Silencing me with his tongue, he expertly penetrated my mouth and tangled it with my tongue. My kisses were feedback, giving him back more than he gave, ending with an delayed lick of the salt from the top of his lip.

The bed creaked and my body rocked against his motions as he drove inside me rigidly. Deep and heavy breaths escaped into my mouth and my respiration bounced against his mouth. My body involuntarily wanted to get away from the debilitating sensations he drew from me. He responded by taking a hold of my wrists in both of his hands and positioning me on my stomach to continue eliciting a bone-tingling friction with his hard and fast pounding. 

Flesh slamming against flesh. Wetness meeting more wetness. The motions of our bodies drew out something once dormant deep inside me. 

Hitting me fiercely, my second wave nearly knocked me out and left me immobile. A hand slid between the mattress and my form to knead my breasts and pinch my nipples through the chiffon and lace material of my blouse, keeping them erect and swelling with pleasure. 

Anything that existed outside of the bedroom washed away. All that surrounded me was the sensation of man who was inside me, touching me, making me feel incredible. 

Everything stopped, relenting to a painfully hard peak that stressed my muscles, my voice, and left me feeling drunk. 

Despite my blindness, the world around me moved and my ears were filled with a painful ringing.

“Keaton,” he growled, his moves becoming stilted before stopping. 

Falling on top of me, he slid over and crashed on the mattress beside me.  Unsteady breaths ebbed and flowed against my back. 

In the breath-heavy stillness, we collected ourselves and migrated to one another, clinging to each other as though we’d never let go of the moment or remove the stakes we claimed on more than our bodies.

THE EUPHORIA NEVER WENT away. It could’ve been hours, but it felt like merely seconds. The material across my eyes lightened, revealing dawn’s natural light filling the room. I clung to Braedan’s hand, pressed against my sternum, hoping he’d stay with me for a few more minutes until morning broke. I nestled back, comforted by his nude body pressed against mine and the security of his arms around me, keeping me close. His breathing picked up, revealing he’d awakened from his sleep.

He slowly moved me to lie on my back and moved his body partially on top of me. As he slipped the blindfold from my face, his supple lips teased my mouth, my neck, and my ear. 

I blinked up at him with a smile. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he answered giving me another sweet kiss on the curve of my neck. “Despite how much I don’t want to, I have to leave.” His voice rumbled down my throat. The prickly stubble on his jaw tickled my collarbone. Suckling the curve of my neck, he coaxed my foray into disappointment as short-lived and made sure I was lost in him again.

Settling my hand at the back of his head, I rolled my fingers around the longer stands of his hair. My hands acted on their own accord, bringing him closer. I held on to him, caressing his mouth with my lips and tongue to prolong his delay.

“But that isn’t for another thirty minutes.”

“What are we going to do for thirty minutes?”

The taunting and sexy glint took over his steely grey eyes as he regarded me, deeming it impossible to wipe away my grin. Wrapped up in his arms, I was lifted and carried to the bathroom. 

The moment he set me down, I folded my arms over my chest, unreceptive toward his act to undress me. The thought of having Braedan bare witness to the extensive damage on my skin left me a little uneasy. I shook my head to stop him.

With his eyes seducing and subduing me, he cradled my chin between his fingers, ensuring I was locked in his gaze. His pull, promising security and understanding, assisted me in finding my confidence, and my hands slowly fell away from my body. Our eye-contact remained uninterrupted as he deftly unbuttoned my blouse and took it further, removing my skirt and my bra. 

When the last piece fell to the floor, he dropped his attention to my body. I closed my eyes, unwilling to see his reaction. He grasped my arms, pulling them around his neck and kissed my collarbone with a feather-light touch. Working his lips down, he kissed my sternum, sliding down to kneel in front of me.

He pressed his thumbs against the burn and stab wounds on my stomach and waited.

My head dropped as I cautiously peered down at him.

“I can’t erase your scars, but I can help you give them a new meaning.” Keeping me in his fixed stare, he adoringly kissed my stomach, making it nearly impossible to keep myself from becoming emotional.

“Who are you, Braedan Michaels?” The tears fluttered down my cheeks, despite how adamantly I wished them away.

“I can’t disclose much more about who I am, but I can tell you who I want to be.” His hands snaked around my thighs and lifted me as he stood. I wrapped myself around him. Staring intently into his eyes, I followed every small movement of his bright hues.

I lifted an inquisitive brow, waiting for him to finish his sentiment while he  walked toward the shower.

“I want to be yours, Keaton.” Placing my back against the tile and my feet on the ground, he stretched out his hand and turned on the shower. The shocking cold water didn’t endure for very long. Braedan’s body demanded my undivided attention. Preempting a glimpse of what was between his legs, he pressed toward me, erasing the space between us. His hands found the backs of my thighs. His kisses muted me. 

Bending forward, he went down on his knees. The hungry look in his eyes thrilled me. I’d never witnessed someone so ravenous for every part of my body that he wore the evidence in his eyes like a proud badge. 

I braced myself on either side of the shower wall as he lifted my thighs until I sat over his shoulders with my back against the tile.

My head fell back as I felt his tongue probe a slightly tender place. 

“ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?” Braedan asked once we were redressed and ready to leave the room. As he stood near the foot of the bed, he glanced up from his cell phone with concern. His damp hair dislodged itself from its molded back style and draped the side of his face.

I was so distracted by him it took me a few seconds before I could answer. I pointed to my smile. “I’m…better than all right. Why?”

“Your walk”—his attention drew down to my legs and he looked as though he was ready for round three—“is a little…off.”

At times he was a conundrum. Innocent, but as he proved last night and again this morning, very dirty and worldly when it came to sex and what my body needed. “You’ve never seen women do this after you…?”

He angled a brow, goading me to state what we both knew I wanted to say.

“After you two have had sex?”

“I’ve never woken up next to a woman to know how she felt after the act.” He exhaled audibly and brushed his hands over his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. Leaving his hand to linger at the crown, he closed his eyes for an instant. “You probably think I’m a contemptible and promiscuous man who beds women and leaves in the morning before they wake; that’s not the case. The reason is convoluted.”

“I don’t think that at all.” I wracked my brain for an explanation to give him. “You know how when you go to the gym and you’re feeling great, but the next day your muscles feel it? Well…”

The understanding dramatically changed his face, and he suddenly turned apologetic.

“Braedan, its okay. It’s worth the soreness. You’re not exactly…how do I say it? Average sized. I won’t be looking forward to walking anytime soon.” Dropping my hands from fixing my messy and slightly wet bun, I glanced back at the door. “Walk you out?”

“And how are you going to manage that, Keaton?” His grin suddenly taunted me. He paced toward me and made me startle a little when he effortlessly lifted me up in his arms.

“Braedan,” I giggled. “I can walk.”

“Are you sure about that?” he mocked me.

Feeling the tinge of exquisite pain between my thighs, I shook my head.

The air breezed around me. His methodic steps moved down the hollow space and carefully descended the stairs. My surroundings barely registered. My gaze was trained to an unrivaled view—Braedan. 

He set me down at the front door.

“I want to stay with Sonja for a bit, if she’s here. Call me?”

His arms were around me, pulling me toward his tall frame, giving me one last gentle kiss that we both had a hard time stepping away from. 

The scent of breakfast and fresh coffee began to fill my nose. I walked, slightly bow-legged around the house, finding it surprisingly clean and showing no remnants of the previous night. The musky scent of incense and breakfast covered any lingering aroma of sex. Sonja was on the couch with her sleeping fiancée, resting his head on her lap.

She simpered at me and raised her glass of orange juice. “I’m sure you’re starving. I made breakfast for you.”

“Thank you, but I’m sure my mother is worried sick.” I looked at my phone. “She’s called me four times. I just wanted to check in with you.”

“I let her know that you were safe and okay.” She suddenly paused. “Was he everything you imagined? Did he make your birthday incredible?” She observed the way my walk had changed and grinned broadly. “Never mind. Questions answered.”

“I’m—”

“Don’t you dare say sorry. You know I don’t have problems with the guest bedroom being used. I was hoping he’d do exactly what he did.”

I shyly grinned at her, embarrassed and sat carefully down on the chair across from her.

“I think he left something for you. I found it in the kitchen with a card.” She pointed to the black jewelry box with a silver bow on the counter. 

I picked it up and slid off the top to be faced with a blush-colored diamond-encrusted cross necklace on a platinum chain. I immediately picked up my phone and sent him a text to thank him. “I keep thinking he can’t be real.” I stared at my phone for a while, but after receiving no immediate response, I put it down on the table. “No one as incredible as he is could be real. Is he an apparition? Do you really see him, too?”