Dangerously Broken (15 page)

“Breathe,” he commanded.

She did, and he slid a second finger in with the first. This time she had to really let her muscles go slack to allow the two fingers in past the tight ring of muscle. There was a small burning sensation, but his other hand teasing her clitoris was helping. That and the fact that she loved the sensation of her ass being filled, that she’d been yearning for this kind of play.

He pressed deeper, and she couldn’t help it—she surged back.

Immediately his hand left her clit and pressed onto the small of her back. “Easy there. You will get what I give you. Remember? You can answer me.”

“Yes. I remember.”

“Good girl.”

That melting sensation again—with the small part of her mind not otherwise engaged she figured she’d better get used to it.

When he started a slow pumping inside her ass pleasure poured through her system like some slow, warm liquid. She could almost picture it in her head like a length of heavy silken rope, twisting and turning as his fingers did inside her body.

“Mmmm.”

“You like that, baby? I can tell you do. And I love that you’re into this—into having me violate your sweet ass. Because my cock is going in soon. As soon as I feel you’re ready for it. But I have to tell you, sugar, I am so damn ready. So damn hard. I can feel the blood like a pulsebeat in my cock. And I want nothing more than to plow into you. To fuck your beautiful ass. But first let’s see how many more of my fingers you can take.”

He pulled his fingers out and she felt him add a third at her opening, felt him twine his fingertips together into a point before pushing back into her.

“Ah!”

“Too much, baby? Tell me.”

“No. It’s good. So good.”

“That’s what I want to hear.”

His fingers pushed in slowly, and she couldn’t deny there was as much pain as there was pleasure for the first few moments—or that she loved the pain as much as the pleasure. She breathed into it, converting the pain, breathing it in, breathing out nothing but the lovely sensations of being filled and commanded and
taken
by him. By
him
.

Several minutes passed in which his fingers surged into her ass, then out again, in again, pausing to twist, then turning as he pulled back once more. He was pressing and tapping her hard clit with his other hand, his fingers dipping in and out of her swollen, needy sex. Her mind was a blur of sensation, her body full of desire, overflowing with it.

He pulled out of her and said very quietly, “Have to fuck your pretty little ass now, my sugar girl.”

He spread more of the lube on her anus, then parted her cheeks. She inhaled, taking in the scent of the clean, crisp sheets and pulling it deep into her lungs. His sheathed cock rested at the opening, and then he began to push. Ever so slowly—too slowly, yet at the same time it was perfect. The thick head took a few moments to pass the tight ring of muscle, then it slid in and she couldn’t help but clench for a moment as if to hold him there.

“Easy,” he told her.

She forced her body to relax once more and he pushed deeper, then deeper still, and she felt the weight and girth of his cock inside her body. He was big, but she could take it. She wanted to. Needed to.

He pressed deeper and she felt that point where his cock widened close to his body push into her, his hips tight up against her ass, his strong thighs right behind hers.

“Ah . . .”

He laid his hand at the small of her back once more and exerted some pressure—just enough to make her feel his authority. She fucking loved it. All conscious thought drained from her as sensation took her over completely—as Jamie did. His arm came around her waist and he held her tight, a small gasping pant escaping him as he tilted his hips and pressed into her as deep as he could go.

She was panting then, in short, sharp bursts. So much need, so much pleasure. So much being under Jamie’s command. At Jamie’s mercy. And she felt it vaguely as something clicked in her mind—or maybe it was in her chest—some new level of emotion and vulnerability. Some new level of trust.

Then he pulled back and began to fuck her. He kept his strokes long and slow, moving in and out of her sinuously while the hand on her back slipped up her spine until it was on the back of her neck and he was pressing her cheek down hard into the mattress.

Yes. His.

“His,” she whispered, wanting to feel the word on her lips.

His hips moved a little faster, his thick cock surging into her, pulling out almost to the tip before he buried himself in her once more. Desire jabbed deeper into her system with every slow thrust. She wanted to come—needed to—and almost thought she could just from this. He fucked her harder, his cock plunging deeper, and she was shaking all over with pleasure. With
yielding
.

“Still good, baby? Tell me.”

She tried to speak, but she was drowning in sensation—physically, mentally.

He paused. “Summer? You good? Talk to me.”

She forced her brain to engage. “I . . . Jamie . . . It’s so damn good. God . . . I can’t . . . Please don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

But rather than taking away from what she was feeling, saying the words only made it hotter. Her sex and her ass tightened, making Jamie groan.

“Jesus, that’s good. Need to come. Fuck, I need to come. Need to fuck you harder. Yeah . . .” His cock jabbed into her, hard and deep, a few savage thrusts that had her gasping. “Ah, baby . . .
my
baby. Fuck, yeah!”

He roared as he came, his hands on her digging into her flesh. And she gave herself over to it—to Jamie and pleasure and pain. She felt so acutely his cock pulsing inside her ass. Felt him trembling. And even before he was done he was rubbing at her clit with the heel of his hand. Almost instantly her body shivered with heat, her climax slamming into her, a wall of sensation, lightning-hot ecstasy. His still-hard cock was buried deep in her ass as she came so hard she saw stars, the room going black. He kept working her clit, his cock moving inside her, milking her climax until she couldn’t take any more.

He bent over her, his breath heavy in her hair, the front of his body pressing against her spine so that she could feel every muscled plane of his torso, every contraction of his abs, every delightful shiver that went through him.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart. I swear you are gonna kill me. But I’ve never felt anything like I do with you. Never.”

She smiled to herself, knowing she felt the same. She didn’t need to say it—couldn’t say anything right now, with her muscles and her brain turned to goo.

Jamie leaned his weight into her, pressing her body down onto the bed. Then he began to pull out of her very slowly, making her want to come some more. Or maybe just to never let him go.

Never let me go.

She sighed. Sank into the idea of never. Of forever. With Jamie.

She was too far gone for it to even make her blink. No, she’d blink later.

“Okay, pulling out now. Take a breath.”

She tried to do as he said, but she was absolutely limp. With coming. Maybe even more with submission itself. She was down deep in subspace. Full of sensation and endorphins and love. Too far gone to even want to really fight it.

Fuck.

But no—it was fine. She had always loved him. Always. Even when he made it hard to.

He pulled out of her, moving slowly, and it only hurt a little. Not enough to matter, except the pain
always
mattered in that it was what she wanted from him.

I am not making sense.

It didn’t matter. Nothing did except that they were there together and she was his.
His
.

“Come on, my sugar girl,” he said gently, his voice rough. “Let’s get us both into a nice, hot shower.”

He rolled her onto her back and took her hand, his fingers joining with hers and folding over them. When she simply lay there one corner of his mouth lifted and a dimple flickered in his cheek. “You gonna get up, sweetheart?”

“Mmm. Yes, Jamie.”

“Oh, you are totally out in space, aren’t you? God, it looks good on you, my sugar girl. To know I took you there. It’s a beautiful thing. Mm-mm, if I hadn’t just come twice in a row I’d have to fuck you again. But maybe after we’ve had that shower.”

She smiled and he bent down to pull the red blanket from beneath her and covered her with it. “You stay here until I get the water going. I’ll be back for you in a sec.”

She watched the perfection that was his ass as he walked away from her and disappeared into the bathroom. Idly playing with the soft edge of the blanket, she blinked, watching the reflection of the dark, rainy sky through the open shutter on one of the windows. The streetlamps made tiny prisms of the droplets slipping down the glass, each one a reflection of the amber light splintered into pink and green and blue. It must have been two or three in the morning and somehow light had found a way to make a rainbow, as if just for her.

She let out a small laugh. She really was high as a kite on those wonderful endorphins. And oxytocin and dopamine and whatever else was released in her brain during play and sex and being touched by Jamie.

“Okay, beautiful, up you go.”

Jamie lifted her, and her head was light, but she wanted to walk. She looped her arm around his waist and he kept his firmly around hers as they moved into the steamy bathroom, then into the shower stall.

She loved that he’d made it so big and luxurious when he remodeled the house. The dark-green slate was so
him
, somehow. He’d even built a small bench seat into it. A bamboo rack held shampoo and soap and a few other items. She took the warm air into her lungs, savoring the earthy scent of Jamie’s soap.

“Hold still, sugar,” he said. “I’m gonna wash you.”

Oh, she loved when he took care of her like this, the washcloth gliding over her skin as he carefully lathered every inch of her body. He kept his other hand at her waist or the small of her back, knowing she wasn’t entirely steady on her feet. How was it she flew so hard with so little pain play? But it was Jamie, and everything was different with him.

“You need your hair washed, sweetheart? Yes, you do.” He leaned in close and spoke softly into her ear, “I think you need to be thoroughly fucked and have your hair washed every day.”

She couldn’t quite take in what he was telling her, what he might be insinuating—she was too floaty still. All she knew was that she loved him saying these things to her, the husky tone of his voice.

He slipped a hand under her hair and behind her neck to hold her steady, and with the other he used the pressure point in the center of her breastbone to push her back under the water—just enough pain to direct her. She sighed in pure pleasure at the warm water gliding over her skin, at the little bit of pain, his command of her. The way he cared for her.

“No one has ever taken care of me the way you do, Jamie,” she said, the words a soft murmur that came out before she could stop them.

“No, that can’t be true. Your family at least . . .”

“Sure, when I was a kid. My parents. Brandon. But after he died, everyone who was left just sort of disappeared. We talked about that.”

“Yes.”

“So . . . since then I’ve been on my own, for the most part. You know, no one made me breakfast ever again. Not once. No more birthday pancakes with bananas and whipped cream. No Christmas trees or camping or any of the other million little things that made up our life. Our family.” She opened her eyes as he finished rinsing her hair and grasped his strong forearm, looking up at him. “I’m not sinking into self-pity, Jamie—really, I’m not. I’m just realizing how much I’ve missed this sort of thing. It’s the kind of stuff I haven’t risked looking at all these years.”

He stroked her wet hair from her face. His eyes were so green, but dark, like the slate tile in the shower. A little shadowed.

“Of course, sweetheart. How could you look at it, dwell on it, without it tearing you up? A lot of people would have done just that, but you stayed strong.”

She nodded. “But can I tell you a secret, Jamie? I’ve craved it the whole damn time. I had a little of it when I went over to Dennie’s house. Her grandmother, Annalee, has been so good to me all these years, but there was always the awareness that I didn’t quite belong to her, even though she made every effort to make me feel included. But some part of me always knew in the back of my mind that something was missing, because I used to know what it felt like to really belong.”

He searched her face for several long moments, but it didn’t make her afraid. She felt wide open to him and it felt good, as if at that moment she could tell him anything. There was no fear for once. She simply waited to see what he would ask her or tell her or do.

“And now, Summer Grace?”

She bit her lip, took what felt like a risk even in her current state of happy serenity. “And now I’m beginning to feel like maybe I belong somewhere again.”

He blinked hard but he didn’t pull away, didn’t let her go. His hand on the back of her neck flexed, then slid around to cup her face while his free hand moved up to hold her other cheek. Some time passed while he stared into her eyes, the warm water falling, soothing her skin while her heart tried to hammer its way out of her chest—his gaze was that intense. Anticipation was that powerful.

“You do, sweetheart,” he said. “We can work everything else out, but know that you do.
Know
it. You belong to me.”

Her chest went tight, then was flooded with heat. With love.

Love him
.

She could only nod and wait to be kissed.

He watched her face for another moment before he bent his head and pulled her up on her toes and crushed his mouth to hers.

His kiss was hungry, but it wasn’t sex. Or, it wasn’t all about sex, anyway—there would always be sex between them. The chemistry was far too hot. But there was as much emotion and stark honesty right now. She curled her body into his as she sought his warm, sleek tongue. As his strong arms held her tight. As the warm, lovely water fell in the shower and the rain fell in the New Orleans night outside.