Fighting to Forgive (Fighting Series) (26 page)

His vibrant green eyes burn with hunger. “Nothing close to as beautiful as what I’m looking at.”

His simple compliment flips around in my belly. I dip my lips to his torso. “This script? What does it mean?” I hold my breath while I continue to rain kisses on his tattoo, hoping he’s relaxed enough to open up about his past. Then I tilt my chin up and see that he’s looking down at me.

“If you want peace, prepare for war.” His expression is serious, and I wonder what his story is.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you fight. Anything worth having in this life, you fight to get. And you don’t stop fighting until you get it.”

Yes. Exactly. Where was he seventeen years ago when everyone was telling me to
do the right thing
? I had plans and dreams. I’d never have given up Elle, but I had options. I could have fought harder for what I wanted, rather than giving in to what everyone wanted for me. His words remind me that it’s not too late. That it’s never too late to fight for our future. To fight for our peace.

A wave of contentment washes over me. I skate my open mouth from his ribs to his belly button, dragging my tongue along to savor the mild salty flavor. His hands fist in my hair, and I can feel the evidence of what my attention does to him digging between my breasts.

A ravenous hunger hits me hard. The overwhelming desire to devour him, to gorge until I get my fill.

I move lower, making sure to keep my eyes locked on his. “Blake, I want to taste you.”

“Your show, sweetheart.” His tense smile confirms the worry I see in his eyes.

Confused by the mixture of signals he’s sending, I slide back up his body, making sure to drag my bare chest along his until I’m at his mouth. “Stop worrying about me. I’m a big girl. I know what I want.” I place my lips to his in a tender kiss, hoping to reassure him. “I want you.”

He pinches his eyes closed for a moment before looking deep into my eyes. “Promise me this won’t fuck things up between us. If you’re not ready or if—”

“I promise.” Cupping his strong jaw, I run my thumb along his stubbled cheek.
So handsome
. “Now, may I?”

“Never say no to you, Mouse,” he whispers. “Never.” He grips my head, and brings his lips to mine in a passionate kiss.

Our tongues thrash together, desire pushing our bodies impossibly closer. Hips grinding, hands roaming, breathless moans and whimpers filling the room. He sits up and pulls me close so that I’m straddling his lap. He moves to my breast and sucks one nipple deep into his mouth. I roll my hips in approval. My body heats, feeling like it’s on the verge of catching fire from the attention of his skilled mouth. “Blake—”

“Need these off.” He tugs at the waistband of my pants.

Grateful that they’re drawstring, I make quick work of the tie and open them enough for him to slide his hand in. The intrusion of his fingers beneath my swim bottoms drops my head back on a purr.

“Fucking beautiful.” He slides two fingers in, and my breath hitches. “Everything about you is so damn perfect.”

With his hand engaged between my legs, he drops back to the bed. I look down to see his forearm running the length of his impressive abdomen. It flexes as he rolls his fingers, and the tightening in my belly coils deeper, bringing me to the edge of delirium.

Reaching up, he hooks me behind my neck and pulls me down to him. I’m swirling, light-headed. Greedy for more, I straighten my legs, and with the help of his free hand, I kick off my pants and bikini bottoms.

I’m completely naked. Totally exposed. But I don’t feel powerless or ashamed.

I feel desired. Worshiped. Cared for.

His fingers move in sensual and tender strokes. “Damn, look at you.” He runs his gaze over my face. I’m surprised, with all of his available options, he’s choosing to keep his eyes on my face. “Those eyes. So fucking sexy.”

Bared to him completely, and yet he praises me for something so everyday. A smile twitches my lips, but fails to develop. My nerves are on high, skin vibrating as my need pushes me higher and higher.

Reaching between us, I grip him beneath his shorts, and curb my reaction to jump back at his size. Heated steel warms my palm, and I tighten my hold. A hiss of pleasure shoots from his lips. I stroke him and then latch on to his mouth to swallow the deep groan that bubbles up from his throat.

His abdominal muscles flex and release in time with my caress. I pull back to watch, but he chases my lips, insisting I stay with him. The kiss becomes urgent, like no matter how much I give him, it’ll never be enough.

“Can’t take it anymore.” He pulls at my hips to roll me on top of him.

He scoots down the bed beneath me while encouraging me to crawl toward the headboard. He trails his lips between my breasts, down my ribs, and over my belly button, making sure to hit every erogenous zone on his way down.
Oh, wow.

The new position releases a million butterflies that start in my middle and race all over my body. I grab the headboard and pull myself up while he continues his journey down.

I’m lost in sensations, responding to the contact and begging for more.

The tender touch of his lips whispers along the skin just above my pubic bone. Deliberate swipes of his mouth and gentle nuzzles of his nose. I’m lost, gone in a flurry of euphoric bliss.

He grips my bottom tight. “What the fuck?”

My muscles tense when I realize what he’s found.
Oh shit.

Blake

She tries to wiggle away, but I clasp her hips, keeping her in place. The jagged scar, well below her belly button, is the focus. I know scars. They’re common in the life of a professional fighter. But a scar down here, so close to—
that motherfucker
. Fury, hot and catching, floods my veins.

“What happened?” My barked question says accusation, not curiosity.

She tries to scamper away again, and I flip her to her back, my shoulders between her legs. I keep my grip on her hips.

“Blake.” The warning in her tone gets my attention.

“Mouse, don’t worry. I’ll let you go.” I place a delicate kiss on her scar. “I’m just curious.”

She bucks once and throws her forearm over her eyes. “I got caught up in everything and I forgot. Dammit.”

I run my finger along the silvery strip and kiss the surrounding skin. What could it be? It’s too big to be a stab wound, but seems too sloppy for a surgical scar. “Don’t shut down on me. Tell me what happened.”

Her tensed muscles relax fractionally at my whispered words. I continue to brush and pull at her tender skin with my lips, urging her to calm, silently begging her to trust me.

I don’t move any lower, but linger, content to stay between her legs as long as it takes for her to talk to me. If Stew did this to her, I’ll hunt him down like a pig and slaughter his ass. I keep this information to myself, knowing that my flipping out will only chase her away.

“C-section scar,” she finally whispers.

Well, thank God.

My breathing slows, and I study her skin. It looks like the damn procedure was done with a box cutter. The line isn’t straight, and the skin is puckered, like it healed wrong in some places. “Why?” It sounds like a stupid question, but I don’t know shit about baby delivery.

She clears her throat. “I’m small. I was smaller at sixteen. Axelle was almost ten pounds.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Mouse.” I don’t know much about babies, but I know weight. A ten-pound baby coming out of this tiny body? I resume my kissing hoping to hide my grimace, and trace the line with my lips. “Does it hurt?”

“No. It’s hard to explain. Kind of numb, I guess.” She coughs out a laugh. “Guess this is the first time you’ve ever been naked with a mom before.” Throwing her hands over her face, she groans. “Embarrassing.”

She’s right. I’ve never been with a mom. I don’t tell her that women with children were on my list of sexual no-no’s. It’s possible I unknowingly hooked up with a chick that had a kid, but I’ve never seen a scar like this before. I’d remember that.

I slide up her body and pull her hands apart to see her face. She looks up at me with unease.

“No, never been with a mom.” She rolls her eyes, and I catch her arms to keep her from covering her face again. “Scars aren’t ugly, Layla.” She startles, the sound of her name from my mouth getting her attention. But I need her to know how dead fucking serious I am about what I’m about to say. “They’re badges. Reminders of the experiences in our lives that were important enough to leave a mark.” Gazing down the length of her perfectly naked body, I skate my finger from her throat straight to the scar. “This is a reminder of what you have and what you went through to get her here. Not a damn thing ugly about that.”

Her eyes sparkle, and she reaches up to run her hand over my hair and behind my neck. “Yeah, I like that.”

“I like it too,” I whisper and slide my hand lower.

“I’m glad—
oh, gosh.
”

I catch her breathless gasp with my mouth.

Everything I learn about her—the good, the bad—only makes her more attractive. I told myself to stay away from women with children for so many reasons. But I’m finding that some of her sexiest qualities revolve around her being a mom. Her patience and determination to right her wrongs with her daughter. Her concern for Axelle’s stability. And her capacity to love. I’ve never met anyone so complex and yet so simply beautiful.

I want her. All of her.

Trailing kisses down her body, she moans as I pass my lips over her scar again. But this time, I don’t stop there. I press open her thighs and wedge myself between her legs, throwing one of them over my shoulder.

And then, I’m gone.

I dip down and open my mouth between her legs.
Mmm.
Pure, sweet heaven. She takes a sharp breath, tensing for a moment, and then relaxes as I gorge myself on her. Unable to pull my eyes away from her arching body, I’m staring openly. Her hands grip the sheets, and her moans encourage me deeper. My hands dig into her ass, tilting her hips for a better angle. Harder, deeper, more.

She’s breathless, and her supple breasts rise and fall faster and faster. “Snake…”

My dick throbs at the breathy way she says my nickname. I’ve never wanted to be inside anyone so badly in all my life. My skin feels tight, and the pressure of what’s building below the surface threatens to rip free. I pull one hand from her ass and thrust my fingers inside her. She gasps with a drawn out mewl. Her hips roll, pressing against my hand, and I increase the pressure of my tongue. I focus on the cues her body gives. She’s so damn close, but unlike last night, she’s not fighting it. Two more seconds of this and my woman’s going to ignite.

I pull back, not at all ready for this to end, but desperate for her gripping heat to engulf me. She lifts her upper body from the bed, and I climb over her. She grasps my head and kisses me. Pressing her back to the bed, I drop to the side and roll, taking her with me so she’s on top. She sucks my tongue into her mouth and groans. The taste of her floods both of our mouths.

Reaching over, I open the top drawer of my bedside table. In record time, I’ve got my board shorts off and a condom on.

“Sweetheart?” I say between kisses. There’s no way I’ll go any farther unless she begs. “Ask me.”

“Please.” She buries her face in my neck.

“Say it, Mouse.” I slide my hand between her legs. “I need to hear you say it.”

She grinds down on my fingers. “Yes, I want you inside me.”

“I want that too.” Gripping her hips, I position her over me. “Beg me.”

“I’m empty without you.” She pulls at my earlobe with her teeth. “Please, Blake.”

She pulls back, and we lock eyes. Straddled over me, she pushes up to her knees and lowers her body down, slowly taking me little by little. She rolls her lips between her teeth and her eyebrows pinch together.

I hold her hips to still her. “Talk to me.”

“I’m okay. You’re just really big.”

“You sweet talkin’ me, Mouse?” I grin and pull her down for a long, wet kiss. “Feels so good, wrapped tight.”

She pushes back, controlling the penetration until we’re completely connected. I wait for her to adjust, taking that time to move my hands and mouth over every available inch of her body. Her hands roam over my shoulders, arms, and chest. After a few minutes, she starts to move. Slow rolls of her hips alternate between long slides up and down.

My chest gets tight, something intense welling deep. This goes far beyond a couple of consenting adults playing around in the bedroom. What’s happening here is binding. Permanent. It’s in the way we don’t take our eyes off each other. The visual stimulation of her petite body taking mine is more than I can handle. Her narrow hips are set wide across mine. Her delicate frame is braced above me, moving in rhythm with my thrusts.

She moves faster, small sounds leaking from her lips going straight to my gut. My abdomen tightens, and the release I’ve been trying hard to hold off swirls at the ready.

I grip her hips and fight the urge to slam her down on me, to impale her over and over until she screams my name. My teeth clench. It’s too much. The combination of what’s going on below my waist is outnumbered by what’s going on above.

“Mouse, baby—”

“Harder.”

Yes!
I push up to sitting and thrust my hips, practically tossing her off me. She holds onto my shoulders and I take over the pace. Every thrust threatens to shatter my strength and send my orgasm rocketing through me.

Her head falls forward, and she hides her face in my neck.

“You’re safe with me. Always.” I nip at her shoulder. “Don’t hide it from me, sweetheart.” I feel her body tighten around mine. “Show me.”

She pulls back and peeks up at me. “Blake… I…”

“Let go.”

She calls out my name in a combination of a gasp and a growl. The sound pushes my orgasm to the surface, but I hold it back. Her body convulses around me. Burying me deep, she falls apart in my arms. Her fingers pinch into my biceps, holding on to me just as tightly as I am her. I lean back and drop kisses against her parted lips as she rides out her release. With her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes drifting closed, she rolls against me and drops her head to the side on a moan.