Sea of Stars(66)

 Slowly, I obey, raising my arms up. He ratchets the hem of my dingy shirt. I wince again, sucking in my breath when the stiff lining in it scraps against my bruised flesh. Trey’s large hand covers my fragile ribs, holding them firmly beneath my bared breast. The pressure is just enough to relieve the ache from them as he pulls my shirt over my head with his other hand. His thumb brushes the lower edge of my breast when I drop my arms. His forearm covers my nipples while he pulls me against him once more. I close my eyes as my skin reacts to his against my bare flesh. When I open them, he’s watching me in the mirror, his eyes dark and unreadable.

 He sweeps my hair off my neck, directing it over one shoulder. I watch him in the mirror as he leans down and brushes his lips over my back. He kisses my bruises, like he’d take them from me if he could.

 “It’s okay, they don’t hurt—”

 He pauses but doesn’t look at me when he says harshly, “It’s not okay. I will never be okay with this.”

 Trey turns me around to face him. His hand reaches up to entwine in my hair; it tilts my face up to his. He kisses me softly, afraid that he’ll hurt me. When I kiss him back, my tongue stroking his, the need within him becomes increasingly apparent. His kisses become bolder, unrestrained, as if he’ll extract some kind of retribution for the time that was stolen from us.

 His touch fills me with yearning; I ache to wrap myself around him—to hang on tight. My heart flutters with desire and fear at the all-consuming feel of it. You can’t need him this much, my paper heart warns me. If it doesn’t last, and it can’t last—you know that—how will you survive the loss of him?

 I ignore those feverish thoughts. My bare skin presses to him, rubbing against the soft fabric of his shirt. This isn’t simple infatuation that I can just ignore, hold my breath, and hope to have pass. It’s something that I can no longer protect myself against. If something happens to him now, it happens to me as well. The thought scares me to death. I’ve always been better off alone—always. That thought comes with a squeezing of my heart that is hard to ignore. I don’t want to be alone anymore, not when I can be with him.

 My arms come up to wrap around the back of his neck. Trey reaches down, lifting me off the floor, his arm under the backs of my knees. The thick bones of his forearm and the muscles of his bicep press me gently against his chest; I feel the power he controls beneath his skin. My fingers play over his strong shoulders, the breadth of which seems to go on forever. His assault on my lips continues; they’re more cathartic than if I were to slink into the corner alone to cry. Trey’s hand moves from the nape of my neck to stroke a path over my back. He turns away from the mirror, taking me to the sunken tub.

 My pink-painted toes lower to the soft white carpet when he sets me on my feet again. The spell is broken for a moment while our lips part; I want to stay in his arms to keep any fear from creeping back in. His hands slip down my sides, and with them a shiver washes an intense wave over me, making me aware of nothing but him.

 His fingers glide beneath the waistband of my black pants, sliding them off as his fingers move over me. I make a soft noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. At the sound, Trey’s eyes darken. His hand cups my bottom, squeezing me and pressing me against him. Something within the core of me clenches exquisitely tight. My hand clutches his chest, gathering the material of his shirt to steady me.

 I move my legs to step out of my pants, letting them pool under my feet. When I do, I’m aware of my nakedness. Biting my lip, I meet Trey’s gaze. He looks me over; his stare makes me feel bold and shy at the same time. Reaching for the hem of his shirt, I pull it up to expose his abdomen. He accommodates me by yanking the material off over his head, dropping it by my clothes. My fingertips float over the deep vee of muscles that leads to the waistband of his pants. His hand covers mine as he takes one and brings it to his lips, kissing it.

 “Kricket.” He breathes my name like he’s blowing on tinder to start a fire. Lifting me up in his arms again, he eases me into the spa tub. With his hand under my arm, he steadies me. I submerge in water that reaches to my shoulders. There’s a bench lining the perimeter of the bath, I stand next to it with the heat of the water turning my skin from pale to a soft pink.

 Leaning my head back, I soak my hair, dampening it. Trey strips off his trousers and enters the spa behind me. He sits on the bench and draws my back to his chest, so I’m on his lap. I gaze up at the high ceiling, my head resting against his neck. The scent of him makes the blood run faster in my veins.