Page 74 of The Retaliation You Deliver
“Leon,” I warn, urging him to hurry up. I need to feel him inside me. I need to feel the burn of him stretching me open.
“You loved it, didn’t you, you filthy slut?”
“Oh God,” I moan, heat surging to my core at his words.
“Yeah, you fucking did. You feel that?” he asks, pushing ever so slightly inside me, letting me feel just how slick I am for him. “You feel how wet you are?”
“Yes. Lee, please. I need yo— argh,” I cry when he slams inside me.
My body stills as his intrusion burns but that pain is soon forgotten when he pulls out torturously slow hitting every single nerve as he moves.
“Holy shi—” My words end in a gasp as he reaches up and twists my nipple. “Oh shit, Lee.”
His hips work faster, pistoning in and out of me with such force, I slide up and down the hood of his car.
Rain continues to drench both of us, the sound of it hitting his car and our surroundings, the only thing that can be heard over our increased breaths as we both race toward our climaxes.
“Macie. Fuck. You’re perfect. Fucking perfect,” he grits out, his body pulled tight with his movements, his muscles rippling under the soaked fabric of his shirt.
He looks delicious and the words he just said to me are on the tip of my tongue, because despite all the parts of him that he hates, his past that he feels has ruined him, to me, he is perfect.
He sees me in a way no other person ever has. He knows who I really am and embraces it.
I always thought we met for a reason, I just never could have predicted that it would be our pain, our pasts, that would eventually entwine us together forever.
Because even if this doesn’t work out. Even if I can’t find it in me to trust him again, I already know that our connection will never fade.
It was born out of something bigger than either of us.
Out of darkness. Out of pain. Out of desperation. And I’m pretty sure our souls will always seek each other out because of it.
With all the unknowns circling around us, one thing I know for sure is that I’ll always dance with him in the rain.
He stills, his eyes holding mine as an intensity I’m becoming used to flashes through them.
“Is that a promise?”
“Is w-what a p-promise?” I stutter, hoping like hell I didn’t just say that out loud.
His hand slides up my slick skin until his fingers circle my throat. His possessive hold sends a wave of heat through me as his thumb gently strokes my pulse point.
“I’ll always dance in the rain with you, too.”
I gasp, hearing confirmation that I did indeed say that thought out loud.
“I-I-I don’t—”
“No,” he states. “No more. Don’t ruin it. Not yet.”
As he says those words, a little defeat creeps into his expression, as if he already knows that I’m not just going to accept him back into my life like I think he was hoping for.
It would be so easy to push everything that happened aside and to move forward together with this crazy thing between us, but I can’t. I need to be stronger than that. I haven’t fought all my life to just give up and fall into the arms of a man who’s hurt me.
I can’t
I won’t.
His hips roll once more, immediately reigniting my approaching release.
