The Darkest Part(87)

My pulse goes right to my dick as I take in her breasts. Perfect. Round. Sultry as hell. Her nipples, beautiful and a perfect shade of pink, harden under my admiring gaze. The tatted stars gracing her collarbone only accentuate her beauty. She’s fucking gorgeous. And what’s more, there’s no shame on her face. She allows me to look her over unabashed, and that’s the biggest turn on yet.

Then, fear thunders in my chest. I have to remove my shirt. Once I take it off . . . fuck. She’s going to think I’m demented, if she doesn’t cringe in revulsion first.

Her fingers trail my stomach. “I’ve been dying to see your tattoo.” And as her hand reaches the bottom of my T-shirt, I grasp her wrist.

“Wait.” I swallow hard. “I’ll do it.”

Her face twists in confusion. Closing my eyes, I quickly yank my shirt off by the back of the collar before I lose my nerve, and hear her slight gasp. I don’t know if it’s because of the tat or the scar.

My muscles tense as I feel her warm, soft hands touch my skin. The pads of her fingers trace one of the wiry branches that wraps my shoulder, then roam down, over my pec. Further exploring to my rib cage, and to where the black trunk extends to the top of my hip. And then, to my horror, her fingers search the scar. The callous, mangled skin that the ink would only take in parts. So much like her tree. Dead. Lifeless. Unfeeling. I ache, craving to feel her touch through the numb scar tissue.

“Open your eyes, Holden.”

Slowly, I do. And the depth of acceptance in her yellow-green irises startles me.

“You did this . . . for me?”

I nod once, my neck rigid. “Something beautiful to cover something ugly. Something I wanted, loved, needed so badly . . . but had to settle for a memory.”

A tear falls from her eye, and I palm her cheek, catching it. Bringing her into me, I press her soft skin to mine and caress her lips in a tender kiss. One that reaches into my soul.

I pull back just enough to whisper, “I’m going to make love to you now.”

Her eyes flick to mine. “I don’t want sweet, Holden. That would be fake. I need to feel every emotion. Every raw, grating, painful emotion we’ve ever felt, and every bit of the desire and love we’ve denied ourselves.”

The dam that’s been holding me back fragments, and with an unstoppable force, I burst through it. My lips crush hers, and I’m pushing her against the wall. Then grabbing her waist, hauling her to her feet.

Her hands go to my boxers, and I suck in a breath against her lips. She tugs the elastic and then uses her foot to push them down my legs. And, oh, my shit. It’s the hottest thing a girl has ever done to me.

She takes me in her hand, and I groan as her palm works to make me harder than I’ve ever been. And the thought hits me. No condom. I’ve never not used one. No barrier. But with Sam, I can’t imagine any other way. I want to feel her. Completely. Nothing between us.

She continues to stroke me, and if she keeps it up, I’ll be through. With one last, long kiss, I inhale her, then grip her shoulders and turn her chest to the wall. I press up against her and grab her wrists. Sliding them above her head and securing them there, I drop my mouth to her neck.

Need pours through me, and I sink my teeth into her skin, eliciting a moan from her. Then I’m pushing her hands harder against the wall as my body pins hers, my mouth devouring her skin. Her wet hair touches my heated skin, the mix of cool and hot spiking my blood with hunger.

Shackling her wrists together with one hand, I reach down with my other to spread her legs. My hand finds her wet center, and my eyes roll into the back of my head as I slide a finger between her smooth lips. Making sure she’s ready.

Hell, she is so ready. Her hips move with my hand. “Fuck, Holden. Now.”

A shuddering quake seizes my body at her breathy words, and then I’m stabbing between her thighs, sliding against her lips, her wetness soaking me. I cup her in my hand, and my fingers find her opening. For one second, I keep myself there. Savoring the feel of her ass kicked out against me, my cock pressed against her softness, before I enter her with a long, deep and slow thrust.

Skin against skin. Sam against me . . . I’m crashing. There’s no more holding back. As she lets loose a moan, I pull out and push inside again, deeper, and harder. She feels so fucking good, I have to rest my forehead against her shoulder, just to try and pace myself. But as her body moves with mine, intensely meeting each of my thrusts, something primal reaches into me. I have to have her all at once.

I slam my chest against her back, and she cries out. Calls my name. And the plea in her voice, my name on her lips . . . It’s fucking heaven. She tries to whisper, her breaths clipping her words. “The people . . . in the next . . . room . . .”