Page 89 of Beneath the Burn

He pressed his hand to the wall, battled to keep it there. The other he shoved in his pocket. His fingers ached to touch her, undress her, and unravel her. He strained his neck to see her gorgeous face.

Without lifting her mouth, she tilted her eyes up at him. “Doing okay?”

“I want to touch you.”

“Not yet.” A soft kiss on his spine. “Now turn back around and close your eyes.”

He pushed his hand hard against the cool surface, squeezed his eyes shut, and trembled in anticipation of her touch. How could something so right feel so terrifying? “Promise me when I get lost in my fucked-up head, you won’t run away.”

A volley of kisses fluttered across his back. “Ifyou get lost, I promise.”

Her shirt rustled, brushed against him and dropped to the floor. The next thing landed on his shoe. He opened his eyes. A red lace bra draped over his feet. His balls tightened.

Her bare chest pressed against his back, and her mouth, soft and wet, slid over his scars. Oh fuck, there wasn’t a sensation in the world that could rival the caress of her nipples over his skin.

A rumble vibrated through his chest, her nearness like a sensual note quivering from his guitar.

“Tell me,” she breathed on his skin, “what is sex like with you?”

“Wh—” He choked. “What?”

She licked along the bumps of his spine, her tongue a hot wave running over his flesh, leaving goose pimples in its wake. “Describe your most recent sexual encounters.”

No fucking way. He jerked to glance at her and was met with the palm of her hand inches from his face. Was she blocking his view of her? Or of the reflection of his back in the mirror? He looked back at the door in front of him. “Why are you asking me this?”

“You know why.”

Was he so messed up she needed an outline of lessons learned to navigate him? It was safer to keep his shit hidden in the dark. Still, she wanted inside and he wanted to let her. “I don’t remember most of them. I get drunk or stoned to work myself up for…”

“Physical closeness.”

He nodded and dropped his head on his arm where it braced against the wall.

She peppered the valleys between his ribs with flitting kisses. “And the encounters you remember?”

Fuck, he didn’t want her to stop kissing him. Deep breath. “I tie them up.”

She stopped, but didn’t move away. He angled his chin to see her. “I’m so sorry, Charlee. Your history—”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” Fire sparked in her eyes, even as she dragged her lips over his tattoo, inches from his face. “Apparently, you’ve forgotten I’ve been paying men to tie me up for three years.”

His fingers curled on the wallpaper.

“Do you have unprotected sex?” She asked against his shoulder.

“Yes.” He felt dirty and sick with regret, wanting so badly to be clean and deserving of her.

Her tongue darted in lazy circles over the outline of his tattoo.

He grasped for something to dig his nails into, something to reassure her with. “I tested clean at the doctor a couple days ago.”

Hot breaths swept over his bicep, her mouth sucking and tasting the sensitive skin under his arm. He was going to lose her glorious mouth with his next announcement, but a swelling resignation settled around his heart. “Last night, I might’ve fucked—”

“I met your girlfriends. They were pretty vocal about how youdidn’tsleep with them.” Her lips moved against his skin. “Though I’ve got to ask. Whose cum was between their legs? It couldn’t have been all theirs.”

The backs of his ears caught fire and saliva filled his mouth. The thoughts of his behavior with those women turned his stomach. “Charlee, I can’t.”

The warmth of her mouth disappeared. In its place, a strange sensation pressed down. What was she doing? He turned his head—

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