Page 114 of Defiant Beta

Levi’s soft voice pulls me back to the present.

I’m not sure when he stopped kissing me, but my lips throb, and I’m breathing hard, gripping the front of his shirt. He’s staring down at me, light green eyes creased with concern.

He opens his mouth.

“Don’t. That isn’t who I am.”

I refuse to let what happened define who I am.

I won’t.

He takes my hand. His grip loosens as he lifts my fingers to his neck. To his tattoos. To the scarab beetle he had to hide the scars his uncle gave him. “Andthisisn’t who I am.”

He understands.

We are more than the broken pieces inside of us.

His skin is warm, but that isn’t why I keep my fingers on him long after he’s released his hold on my wrist.

He peers down at me, waiting. Watching.

He holds still as I grapple with this new Della—or try to be the old version of me again.

This Della has weaknesses, fears, and thoughts that make her want to run and hide.

The old Della wasn’t shy about what she wanted. Never flinched away from taking it. Wasn’t afraid of the things she probably should have been.

I want to be her again.

Levi is motionless, his gaze fused to mine as my fingers skate down the smooth surface of his skin. There’s a slightly raised edge to his tattoos, and I feel the scars beneath that he tried to hide.

His breathing is so quiet in the dimly lit hallway that I barely hear it. As my fingers skim over his washboard abs and creep beneath the soft cotton of his shirt, his breathing deepens.

He doesn’t stop me.

Not when I slip my other hand under his shirt.

Not even when one hand slips beneath the waistband of his pants, and I feel how much he wants me.

He crushes me against him, a raw sound torn from his throat as he wraps his arms around me and lifts me.

We’re in my room. He’s kicking the door shut as I wind myself around him, breathing in his warm amber scent as he walks us back to my bed.

He falls back, and we hit the bed with a solid thump.

I break the kiss to peer down at him. “Did you even look before you did that?”

“Floor. Bed. Don’t care.” He brings me back to him, fusing his mouth to mine.

He rolls us. Before a memory can snatch me into the past, the scent of his skin keeps me in the present, holding me there as his hands cup my breasts, squeezing slightly. Breathing gets harder.

He plucks my nipples. My back bows, pleasure bursting within me.

He breaks the kiss, peering down at me. “More?”

His eyes are hooded, dark, and so sexy, I instantly drag him down for more. His lips curve in a smile as they meet mine, and he gives me the kiss I’m craving.

He rolls us again, making quick work of my pants and my T-shirt. But he takes his time with my panties, eyes fused to my black lace covered pussy. The rough pads of his fingers graze the soft skin of my hips as he skims my panties down, and I hold my breath. My heart is in my throat, thrumming. Pounding.

---