Page 111 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

I begin to close my legs, but Storm puts a palm on the inside of each knee.

“No.Keep them open. I want to see everything. Now fuck yourself, Shae. Make yourself come.”

Ho. Ly. Shit.

I do what he tells me to, settling into the familiar patterns I use to get myself off quickly. Two fingers slide into my channel while the heel of my palm presses against my button.

He hisses when I pull them out, spreading my lips apart to show him every-damn-thing.

“Keep going, baby,” he whispers, not taking his eyes off my slit for several hot moments. Then, his eyes train on my face…and they don’t move. “Don’t fucking stop until you gush on my couch.”

A wild thought breaks through the haze: I’m about to mess up this man’s expensive-ass furniture.

“Storm,” I whisper, slowing my movements, but he surprises me when he grabs my wrist.

“Shae,” he says, his voice so low it causes a shiver down my spine. “What did I say for you to do?”

I stare at him, my mouth wide open just like my legs, and with his name on my lips, I circle my spot once, twice….

“Here’s my pitch, Sweetness,” he says, grinning and keeping his eyes fixed on mine. “Because I want you to envision what it’ll be like when you’re my girl.”

That. Those last words, “my girl,” has me releasing a strangled moan. My hand picks up the pace, and his grip on my wrist keeps my movements tight.

“Imagine it’s next spring. You’ve got every damn thing you want lined up in your life. But instead of the loneliness you feel with every accomplishment, you have someone to celebrate with.”

I know my face is doing all sorts of things, but he keeps his grasp firm, so I listen.

“And not only are you celebrating with a man who believes in you, because you’re the most intelligent, vivacious, fuckingbeautifulgoddess to walk this earth, you’re with a man who understands you. A man who knows you don’t actually give a fuck about the accolades. Not really.”

It’s like he’s looking into my soul as those words settle, terrifying me. Because if he’s right….

“You’re held and supported so you can do whatever it is you want to do in this life. Not what your parents want you to do. Not what Asheford-fucking-University wants you to do. But what Shae Olivya Rivers wants to do.”

He startles me when he removes my fingers from my pussy and slides them between his lips, wetting them even more. Not that I need the extra lubrication. I’m damn near a faucet down there right now, and almost as a physical complement, a rogue tear plops into the shell of my ear.

Removing my fingers in a slow slide, he places them back on my pearl, but he doesn’t move them. “And when it’s just you and me, rocking together and taking over this shit in ways the establishment says we fucking can’t, we fucking will.”

“Storm, I’m not sure I’m ready for this. This is—” I choke off the words when he slides my fingers back inside me, this time, his thick middle finger joins my slender digits, stretching me in the most delicious way.

“Fuck, Shae. I told myself I wouldn’t touch you, but your pussy feels—” He groans and slides my fingers in and out, his thicker digit stretching me. “When we’re together, Shae, it’ll be so damn hot. Because I know after all the fucked-up shit that’s happened in my life, all the fucked-up shit I’ve done, you were made for me.”

Our pace quickens and my thighs tense. I know I’m seconds from coming because of his words and the feel of his hand has me so damn keyed up I can’t stand it.

I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I ca?—

“Storm,god,” I shout, my back bowing off the sofa as a deep, quaking orgasm rips through my body, shooting from my core and robbing my brain of blood.

“I’d choose you every fucking time, Shae,” he says, and through my slitted eyes, I see the naked truth that should terrify me and have me running from this place and never looking back.

But instead, I say his name.

Once, twice, over and over as sobs wrench from my chest. I’m not even sure why the hell I’m crying like this. Maybe it’s from the intensity of the moment, the depth of his feelings and desire for me. Maybe it’s because I know I should do everything within my power to honor the sacrifices my family has made for me, and doing so doesn’t leave space for Storm Sandoval.

But when his arms circle around me, pulling me back onto his lap and close to his chest, I know that, if anything, I’m safe enough to be his.

Even if it’s just for a moment.

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