A Commitment to Love, Book 3 (48 page)

His lips on my skin was ecstasy.

There would never be another. I grabbed at the back of his head, running my fingers through those soft, chestnut curls. His cologne sank into me—this woodsy scent mingling with fresh mint and money. Sweet-smelling, yet earthy. At times I would just lay in his big arms and swim in his fragrance as he slept.

I’m so lucky.

I got ready to tell him everything on my mind, but then he groaned and lifted me up, rushing us over to the wall and knocking everything over. A small antique table, glasses, a photo of Holmes’s parents, another pipe, and other items crashed to the floor.

We’ll never get invited back here again.

“Chase,” I shrieked.

Whispers rushed up from downstairs, but no one came.

Ignoring us all, he continued to suck on my neck and squeeze my behind as if he’d never had the opportunity to touch one in his life.

“What are you doing?” I moaned.

Only grunting, he slung all of the museum items from the bed to the floor and laid me down. The soft mattress smoothed against my back and moved a little under me as he got on the bed, too.

I planted my hands on his chest and stopped him from lowering down to ravish me some more. “Chase, what are you doing?”

“Repaying you for your kindness.” He rose over me and sucked on his bottom lip. “You know what I want to do.”

“We’ve ruined Sherlock Holmes’s bedroom.”

“Fuck him.”

I giggled and let my hands fall to the bed. “We should go.”

“No.”

“That wasn’t a question, Chase.”

“No.”

“We already ruined—”

“They’ll be lucky if I don’t take you in every room in this museum. You woke the beast.” He nipped at my chin. “He was sleeping inside of me the whole time, and here you go taking out my cock and putting it into your pretty little mouth.”

“I did no such thing.”

“You owned it today.”

I widened my eyes in shock. “I would never give a blow job. I’m a lady.”

He whistled. “Yes, you are.”

I tapped at his chest. “Get off me so we can go.”

“We’re not leaving until you come.”

“They’re going to call the cops,” I argued.

“They won’t. You think we’re the first rich couple to hook up in here?”

“Oh wow. Is that how the rich do it?”

“Yeah.” He groaned and rubbed against me. “I’m so mad at you right now.”

“What did I do?”

“I wanted to wait until you were more healed.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

I frowned. “Then I will be.”

“You will.”

I tossed him a wicked smile. “I actually think sex would help me heal.”

“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yes. Really bad, nasty sex,” I whispered. “Wet and hot.”

“Mmm.” He bit his lip some more and just stared down at for me a long time. “You want to be bad?”

“Yes, baby.”

“It’s about to go down.”

“Really?”

“I’m listening to rap now. Check this out.” He crossed his arms. “Stay ten steps ahead of the game, I’m focused. Dumbledore to these bitches. Hocus pocus.”

Laughter fled from my lips. “Oh God. You’re never allowed to go to South End without me. Too much has rubbed off on you.”

“Look. Open your legs wider. It’s about to go down!”

“Chase, shhh.” I covered my face to stop my laughing. “They’re going to come up here if we don’t keep it down.”

“I already told you what is about to happen, tesoro. There’ll be a whole lot of noise coming from here.” He yanked at the top of my dress, pulling it down like a deranged lover, and freeing my breasts. “I’m going to make your body sing.”

“Well, at least you won’t make it rap.”

“You’ll pay for that.” He wrenched away at the material, exposing my breasts some more. They flopped out to greet his eyes. Hard nipples and soft flesh. They craved his touch, and I almost begged him to suck on them.

He leaned down and lapped at one nipple. Fire blazed there. It went wet with his mouth, and I moaned, sliding my body against him to feel even more.

He suckled on my nipple and I squirmed under him in pure pleasure.

“I love you, tesoro.” And then he touched me.

Like it was his first time.

Like he’d never had it.

He gazed at my body with lust.

My breasts.

My neck.

He looked at me and energy moved through the air.

Pushing the bottom of my dress up, he slid my panties to the side and toyed with my pussy. Just as those full lips continued to suction on my nipples.

I couldn’t stop the cries of lust from ripping out of my throat.

I had no dignity. No sense of ladylike values or misogynistic views on what a proper woman should be doing. I wanted to fuck, and do it hard and nasty. Just take over my body and never hold back. I needed him inside, on top, and behind me, slipping all over my skin.

“Give it to me, Chase. Now, please.”

He grunted. “Say please again, tesoro. I love it.”

“Please,” I moaned.

He positioned his cock to my opening. “Say it again.”

“Please, Chase.”

He plunged into me, stretched my body around him and pushed more moans out of me. “Do you want it deeper?”

“Yes.”

“Look at me.”

Moaning, I gazed in his eyes. “Chase.”

Lifting me up from the bed and into the air, he thrust into me slower. “Fuck.”

He still remained in the bed on his knees, fucking me hard, his hips grinding in circular motion. He was a sexual athlete. His muscles rippled along his arm and chest. Sweat dripped down his chiseled stomach and still he ground that hard cock into me as if I was paying him a million dollars.

His warm breath brushed against my moist skin. My heart drummed in my chest. Holmes’s bed thumped with our hot movements.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Our groans matched each other.

Breath per breath.

“You feel so good,” he mumbled.

“Yes, baby.”

Chase growled, “I want to go so deep I can’t come out.”

I almost laughed, if not for the orgasm that crashed into me. “Ah!”

“Yes, tesoro.” He bounced me on him, my head bobbing back and forth like a pinup doll bursting with heated sensations.

Drowning, I fell into him. “Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh.”

It was all I could say. There was no sense of alphabets or things called words and sentences. I was trying to tell him to not stop, but he drove that cock into me with pure precision and watched me breakdown the whole time.

“Yes, such a good girl.”

“Oh.”

“Take it.”

“Oh.” Waves of pleasure rippled through me.

“This is how you’ll heal.”

And then all of me came apart.

C
HAPTER
29

Chase

B
enny
stayed silent.

No more copycat Ripper murders in London. No threats to my family or me. No severed heads delivered in pretty boxes. No one spotted him.

He’d disappeared.

Jasmine and I had peace for the first time in months, and it made me nervous as hell.

What will be his next move? Will he fall into our trap?

After the press conference and my tesoro’s lovely blow job and sexual session in Holmes’s bedroom, we decided to leave London the next morning. The museum hadn’t been pleased when we got downstairs. I doubted the check that I wrote them made the staff any happier. The Brits had their traditions and cultural ideas about certain things.

It probably had been a bad idea to shoot a load on Sherlock Holmes’s rug.

Nevertheless, we planned the next days out. Sophia, Vivian, and Sherman would all board separate planes that took them back to the States. Vivian would go with us to Miami, and Sophia would return home.

But we hadn’t figured out what to do with Sherman. I actually wanted him around. He loved his sister, and hoped to keep her safe from Benny as much as me. Jasmine believed he couldn’t control himself.

“Do you think he’s crazy?” I asked her on the ride home from the Sherlock Holmes museum.

“Sherman is very much out there,” Jasmine said. “He’s not like Benny, but he’s not that much different either.”

“Give me an example.”

“No.”

I almost sneered at her. How I hated that damn word on her tongue. “Why not?”

“I’ve given you enough for today.”

My cock jerked in my pants and craved a round two, but I knew I couldn’t do that to her. In fact, I was pissed that I let her suck me off. It felt so good with that soft, wet mouth warming my length and searing my insides with desire.

I craved her even more.

Those plump breasts and ripe nipples, just begging to be nibbled with my teeth and lapped at by my tongue.

I hungered for her.

Every part of me screamed to lift her up, knock all that Sherlock Holmes crap on the museum bed and break the motherfucking frame as I barreled my cock into that soft, velvety flesh.

I had no control when it came to Jasmine.

Tesoro.

My love.

My future wife.

I remained imprisoned within her heart, and if the warden brought me a key to free myself, I would fling the little thing at him.

I was finally free.

Of all the hollowness that took up in my chest.

Of all the pleasure seeking flings with other women.

Of the need to have more than who’d I gave my heart to.

I’d escaped this dark thing that I’d lived in for years, and hadn’t even realized it was there, until she came around me.

This was love.

That I was sure of.

Love didn’t resemble romantic comedies and TV sitcoms, where it all came together in the end. Love served as that strong connection between two people that could never be unbroken.

Not by death or other women.

Not by serial killer fathers and emotionally manipulative mothers.

Not by society.

Not by my father.

Not by a hurricane or any other natural disaster.

I breathed her in, the first day I kissed that beautiful cunt and told her she would be mine, and now …

I would never exhale.

I could choke on her,

die with her inside of me.

Jasmine’s voice broke my thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

“How much I love you.”

A smile spread across her face. “I love you, too.”

“Tell me about Sherman.”

“Why, Chase?”

“Maybe we can use him.”

“According to Troy, the only person that can control him is Mom.” She blinked a few times and then looked away.

Oh, tesoro. How are you doing with Troy’s death?

I pulled her into my arms. “I love you so much. Anytime you need to talk, come to me.”

She leaned against me. “On my fourteenth birthday, Sherman killed my rabbit.”

“You had a rabbit in South End?”

She lifted her head up. “Hey, I can have a rabbit in the hood.”

“I don’t know. I rode through that area. I believe someone would have stolen that rabbit.”

“Definitely. Crackheads would catch squirrels around the park, cook them up, and sell them for a couple of dollars on the streets. I’m sure they would’ve taken my rabbit and got paid.”

I cringed. “I’m not a fan of rabbit meat.”

“I am.”

“Of course you are.” I kissed her forehead. “Why did Sherman kill the rabbit?”