Page 5 of Parrish

“I’m going to devour you,” he swears, pinching my nipple as he leans forward and finally covers my mouth with his. With unrestrained passion our lips press together. Our tongues meet and our fate is forgotten as we lose ourselves in the simple act. He grinds against me hard, making his need known and the greedy way he kisses me excites me. Like I’m his prey, he nips at my lips, pulling them between his teeth before his tongue soothes the sting his brutal assault leaves behind. It’s animalistic and completely Jack. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him deeper into the v of my legs and lock my ankles around his ass. A groan rumbles past his lips, down my throat and the aftershocks settle between my legs making me wet.

The more time passes, the more things change but some things, things like our undeniable need for one another—that remains.

Tearing his mouth from mine, he buries his nose in the crook of my neck and palms my tits through my shirt, squeezing them as the scruff of his beard scales my pale skin. Pulling one breast from the cup of my bra, he wraps his lips around my nipple and sucks roughly. I throw my head back and run my fingers through his salt and pepper hair, tugging the ends.

His hands move to the waistband of my jeans, undoing the button before pulling down the zipper. Keeping his mouth busy with my breasts, he slides his hand inside my jeans pushing aside the scrap of lace covering me. His fingers find my pussy, wet and eager and his knuckles disappear between my lips.

A short breath escapes me as he works his fingers in and out, spreading me and priming me for him. I forget where we are or that anyone can walk in at any given moment.

Let them.

Let them see what they’re destroying.

What they’re tearing apart.

“Goddamn it, Reina,” he growls, lifting his head as he continues to fuck me with his hand. “This cunt was made for me, you know that?”

Forcing my eyes to focus, I reach for him, taking his face in my hands. His fingers still inside me and I lean forward. His hooded gaze meets mine and I clench around his hand.

“Ask me what I am,” I say, slowly circling my hips, riding his fingers and taking them as deep as I can. Something flickers in his eyes and I drop one hand to his belt buckle. Our eyes remain locked as I fumble trying to free him from his pants.

“Ask me,” I demand.

“What are you?”

“I’m property of Parrish until the day I die,” I reply, wrapping my hand around his cock. Some might take offense to being called someone else’s property but being Jack’s property means I’m cherished. It means respect and above all it means I’m loved. This man loves me. He worships me and being his isn’t an insult, it’s a fucking blessing.

When I say I’m property of Parrish, I say it with pride.

“Yeah, you are,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers out of me.

He grabs my face and kisses me hard, pouring his heart and soul into it. It’s as hot as a brand and something I’m likely never to forget. His hands drop from my cheeks, but he keeps his mouth firmly locked with mine as he guides the swollen head of his cock to my entrance. My lips stop moving against his and my breath catches as he thrusts into me with such force my back hits the mirror. He slides his hands around me and drags my ass closer, sliding me over his cock. I grab onto his shoulders for leverage and it's not long before we find our rhythm, fucking each other like our lives depend on it. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh mixes with our breathless pants and fills my ears.

Watching him I memorize the way his face contorts with pleasure as he works to make me come, building my climax one thrust at a time. Bringing his hand between us, his fingers find my clit and everything starts to blur. His face, the sounds of our bodies joining—everything fades as I tighten around him and ride my orgasm.

“That’s it,” he mutters, pushing my hair out of my face. “So fucking beautiful, so fucking right.” He rotates his hips, crashing into me once more and then I feel him let go. Clinging to him, I tighten around him, keeping him rooted inside me. His cock pulses as his release fills me, branding me in the most intimate way.

Panting, he bows his head and places his mouth to my chest.

“I fucking love you,” he murmurs against my skin before lifting his head. Dark eyes bore into me, pleading with me to trust him, to believe in him. “Don’t you forget that, you hear me?”

This man.

This beautiful misfit of a man.

If only he knew how deeply he was rooted to my soul. That I could never forget his love for me, that it’s spray painted over the four chambers of my heart in deep, vibrant hues. A wild love that will never fade. Never stop pulsing in my veins.

“I won’t,” I swear, smoothing his hair back in place. Studying me for a beat, he finally nods and presses a quick kiss to my lips.

“There’s more where that came from,” he says with a wink.

As ill-fated as we might be, it’s hard not to smile at him. There aren’t many times Jack lets his playfulness shine but when he does, it’s a thing of beauty. It’s like the weight he carries on a daily basis somehow unhinges and he’s free. A very rare occurrence for a man who is mentally ill.

He pulls out of me, tucking himself back into his jeans before offering me his hands. With his help, I slide off the counter and pull up my pants. He tucks my breasts back into my bra and pulls my shirt over them, covering me. Spinning around to face the mirror, we simultaneously, draw up our zippers and fasten the buttons on our jeans. There is no hiding what we’ve done. We wear our freshly fucked faces with pride. The both of us laugh a little at the mess we are before he takes my hand and draws me against his side.

Where I belong.

Where I’ll always be no matter what.

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