Page 35 of Broken By Silence
The song ends, the crowd cheers, and she disappears backstage. I move immediately, following the curve of her path, ignoring the disapproving stares from the floor and even Oscar’s narrowed eyes.
I findher in the changing room. Her robe hangs loose, clinging to the damp heat of her skin. Sweat glints along her collarbone, and she’s beautiful in a way that’s infuriating because it’s hers and no one else’s.
Before she can say a word, I have her by the wrist, pulling her toward the storage room. The door slams shut behind us, the click of the lock loud in the otherwise quiet room.
Her eyes widen. “Archer?—”
“I can’t watch it anymore,” I growl, pressing her against the wall, heat radiating off my body. “I can’t watch them look at you, think they own you. They don’t. Not now. Not ever. No one?—”
Her lips press against mine before I can finish, cutting me off. She’s hot and soft, challenging and inviting all at once, and I can feel every nerve in me straining. I crush my mouth to hers, deep, demanding, possessive.
“I’ll buy you your own place,” I murmur against her skin, dragging my hands down her waist. “A club that’s yours. Nobody gets to look at you unlessyouwant them to. I’ll burn every other place to the ground if I have to. Hell… I’ll buy them all then shut it all down. You won’t have to perform for anyone ever again.”
Her breath hitches, and my fingers find the tie of her robe, tugging at it until silk slides away, leaving her bare to me. I’m barely aware of the heat rising in my body, the sharp ache of need, the tight coil of possessiveness that I can’t release anywhere else but here, on her.
“You don’t have to do this anymore,” I whisper, my lips brushingover her collarbone, down the slope of her shoulder. “Not if you don’t want to. I’ll give you everything. All of it. Your own dance studio to expel the demons. Hell, a stage in the middle of campus where everyone can see you. Whatever you need, Lottie… just say the word.”
Her hands grip my shirt, pulling me down to her, and the desperation in her touch matches mine. She doesn’t want to be saved… not fully. She wants me. She needs me, raw and unfiltered, and the knowledge drives me to the edge of reason.
I growl low in my throat, dragging my mouth to hers again, tongue teasing, teeth brushing, claiming. My hands move with intent, tearing at her clothing until it falls in a heap around us. Silk, lace, nothing left to hide. I’m consuming her with my eyes, my hands, my lips, my need.
“Say it,” I murmur, my forehead pressed to hers, voice rough with want and possessiveness. “Say you’re mine. All of it. Every damn part.”
She smiles, a wicked, defiant little curve of her lips, and shakes her head. “I am,” she breathes. “You already have me, Archer. Every part.”
Something in me snaps. I drag her into the small space of the storage room, pushing her against the shelves, walls, and crates. Every movement is deliberate, possessive, claiming. My mouth finds hers again, rough, biting, claiming. Her nails dig into my shoulders, marking me, and I don’t stop.
Ican’t.
Her moans are low and intoxicating, echoing off the walls. Every gasp, every shiver, every tremor under my touch drives me higher, hotter, hungrier. I’m not gentle. I’m not patient. I’m possessive, I’m demanding, and she answers me like she was made for it.
My body cages hers. The thin sequined pasties she wore scrape against my shirt. “I watched them look at you,” I growl, my voice low and thick. “I watched every fucking one of them stare at what’smine.” My hand finds the curve of her waist, possessive and firm. “It drives me insane, Lottie. It fucking tears me up inside.”
A slow, knowing smile touches her lips. “I know.” Her own hands come up, sliding under my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders.
That was the core of us. Her past had built these walls, and this stage was her way of controlling them. And me? I was the lucky bastard she let inside the fortress, the one who got to see the woman behind the persona, even as I have to fight the burning jealousy of sharing her with strangers.
My mouth crashes down on hers. It’s not a gentle kiss. It’s a claiming. A release of all the pent-up, possessive energy that had been coiling in my gut for hours. She tastes of cherry gloss, a flavor I’d fucking drown in if she let me. Her tongue meets mine with equal fire, a silent battle for dominance we both know I’ll win.
I break the kiss, my breathing ragged. “I need to feel you. All of you. Right the fuck now.”
My fingers, clumsy with need, find the clasp of her tiny sequined bottoms. With a sharp snap, the flimsy material gives way, and I shove it down her thighs. She steps out of it, kicking the garment into a shadowy corner. I fumble with my own belt, my cock straining painfully against my zipper, a hard, desperate ache that demands immediate relief.
I don’t wait. I spin her around, bending her forward over a stack of cardboard boxes. The new position arches her back, presenting her perfect, round ass to me. I run my hands over the glorious curves, squeezing the firm flesh, spreading her open for me.
Fuck, she’s so beautiful.
So ready. The sight of her, glistening and wet just for me, sends a jolt of pure lust straight through me.
“You see this?” I murmur, dragging the thick head of my cock through her slick folds. She shudders, a sharp gasp echoing in the small room. “This is all mine. This wet, hot fucking tightness is for me.” I press just the tip inside, a shallow, teasing invasion that makesher whimper and push back against me. “Tell me who this belongs to, Lottie.”
“You, Archer,” she moans, her voice muffled against the box. “Fuck, it’s all yours. Please…”
It’s all the permission I need. I drive into her in one long, brutal stroke, burying myself to the hilt. She cries out, a raw, unfiltered sound of pleasure that was better than any music. I held myself there for a second, buried deep, feeling her inner muscles clench and flutter around me, a pulsing, velvety fist gripping my cock.
“God, Lottie,” I grunt, my forehead falling against her back. “The way you fucking take me.”
I begin to move, setting a punishing pace from the very start. There’s no gentle build-up. This is about reclaiming, about fucking the sight of every other man’s eyes off her skin. Each thrust is hard and deep, my hips slamming against her ass with a wet, rhythmic smack that echoes off the concrete walls.
