Page 95 of Wicked Scorn
“God, that feels amazing,” I breathe, my eyes fluttering shut. I feel him hard under me, and I purposely wiggle against him. He’s right, I have been through a lot tonight, but somehow that just makes me want to be closer to him right now. I want him inside me, pinning me beneath this huge frame. I want to feel like I can’t escape him, because with Jeremiah, I’m safe.
His green eyes are dark with concern as he tilts my head to the side, making me look at him. His dark brows are furrowed, as if he’s trying to decipher the inner workings of my mind. I can’t help but feel a thrill at the sight of him, his broad shoulders blocking out the glow of the bathroom lights.
“I can’t fucking believe I’ve got you back, bunny.” His voice is sincere and filled with a promise that makes my heart race. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he breathes out. The intensity in his eyes sends shivers down my spine, and I revel in the knowledge that he wants me just as much as I want him.
“Jeremiah,” I say softly, my voice trembling slightly with the depth of my emotions. “I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
He reaches out and places his hand on mine, interlocking his much bigger fingers with my more delicate ones. The heat of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through me. “You don’t need to thank me, bunny,” he says, his voice taking on a husky quality that makes my pussy clench. I feel his cock jerk beneath me, and I know I’m not imagining things. Jeremiah Blackwood is doing everything in his power right now not to impale me. “Just knowing you’re here with me, feeling safe and cared for—that’s all I need.”
I don’t get a chance to respond because he’s nudging me to look forward and I’m not sure what he’s got in mind. “I love you so much,” his deep voice breaks through my thoughts, the rasp in his tone sending shivers down my spine. Jeremiah’s strong hands find their way down my back, his skilled fingers massaging my muscles. The sensation is an intoxicating combination of pain and pleasure that leaves me breathless. As he works his way down my back, he cups my ass, squeezing and lifting me off of him ever so slightly.
“Your muscles are so tight; it’s like you’ve been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders,” he teases, and I know he’s stalling.
“I have had a rough couple of years,” I retort playfully, the sarcasm in my voice barely masking the truth behind my words. “It’s not easy being Oakley Ashford, you know.”
“It’ll be easy now. Anything you want. I will give you anything, bunny,” he replies, and he sounds so matter of fact, like anything else is not an option.
“I have everything I need right here,” I tell him honestly.
His fingers dig deeper into my flesh, coaxing moans from my lips as the tension in my body unravels. I can feel the heat building between us, a pull that threatens to consume. I tilt my head back, allowing the exhaustion to drain from my body as Jeremiah’s skilled hands work their magic on my shoulders.
“Jeremiah,” I murmur, my voice barely more than a whisper, “I want you to know I knew you’d come for me tonight. I didn’t doubt it for a second, and I just needed you to know that. I just prayed it was before I met my end.”
He pauses for a moment, his fingers stilling on my skin. His breath is warm against the nape of my neck as he presses kisses there. “I’ll always show up for you. You’re my only priority.”
“Jeremiah, I…” My voice wavers as I struggle to find the right words. “I was so scared. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up.”
His eyes, filled with empathy and concern, hold mine captive. “You never have to worry about me not being there,” he assures me, his voice steady and strong. “I’ll sew you to my fucking ribs before I’ll let you out of my sight again.” He’s just exaggerating, but something in the back of my mind tells me that Jeremiah does not joke when it comes to me.
“You know, pretty boy,” I say, my tone teasing despite the vulnerability still coursing through me, “it’s hard to believe one of the Blackwood brothers could be so caring.” I need to lighten the mood and let us be us again.
He chuckles, a low sound that sends warmth flooding through me. “Well, not everyone can be as off the rails as Penn.”
I reply with a grin, my spirits lifting as our conversation takes on a lighter tone, “Can’t let the world know that pretty boy Blackwood has a heart of gold.”
“God forbid,” he agrees, his fingers resuming their gentle massage of my shoulders.
His fingers still on my shoulders, I feel a subtle tremor in his touch. I glance at Jeremiah’s face and see something I’ve never witnessed before: fear. The stoic mask he usually wears crumbles, revealing the raw vulnerability that lies beneath.
“Oakley…” he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion. “You have no idea how scared I was. How scared I am of losing you again. It would be what I deserve for leaving you like I did. For trusting that Royce was looking out for you, even if he wasn’t around.”
My heart clenches at the intensity of his words, the desperation evident in every syllable. This side of Jeremiah, soopen and vulnerable, is a sight I’ve not often been privy to—and it takes my breath away.
“Jeremiah,” I murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek, “I’m here. You saved me, and I’m not going anywhere.” I whisper against his lips, “As weird as it sounded, I’d let you sew me to your ribs if that meant never having to leave your side again.”
He leans into my touch, closing his eyes for a moment as if trying to absorb the reassurance I offer. A heavy silence settles over us, punctuated only by the faint sound of water lapping against the tub’s edges.
“Promise me,” he says, his voice barely audible. “Promise me you’ll always be here.”
“I promise,” I whisper back, because I don’t intend on living a single minute without him right next to me.
A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and he opens his eyes to meet mine once more.
“Oak,” he murmurs, his voice rough with need. “I want you so damn much…” His eyes darken with lust, and there’s no mistaking the heat that passes between us.
“Look at me,” I whisper, reaching out to gently touch his cheek. The heat of his skin burns against my fingertips.
Our breaths mingle, his chest rising and falling against me. The intensity of our physical connection is almost too much for my body to handle. I feel like I’m going to short circuit if I can’t get closer to him.
