Page 145 of Painted Scars
I let her lead and take what she needs. Our kiss is light and unhurried, our tongues rolling over the other My hand finds her hip beneath the sheets, warm and softer than silk. Her breath catches at the contact, but she doesn’t shrink. She presses closer, kisses me harder, surrendering all of herself to me, glitter and all. I kiss her with the promise to never leave or lie again.
The dog snores and stutters, already asleep.
I smile into her mouth. “Josh is going to need therapy. All this talk of war and dirty talk.”
Her smile reaches her eyes this time. “He sleeps through it. He’ll survive.”
My hand tangles in her hair. “Well, if he does, I’ve put aside a slush fund.”
Her fingers glide along the line of my shoulder, tracing where muscle meets scar tissue, reading a story etched in flesh, where every mark is a stroke from the brush that painted my scars.
Our kisses twist into fire and spice. Our hands paw at each other, desperate and hungry.
I pull back, checking that she hasn’t changed her mind. “You sure, baby?”
She nods, her eyes glowing with love. “I want this with you.”
“Then let’s go slow,” I whisper.
And we do. I kiss every inch of her jaw, and she sighs, melting into me. I move like she’s glass and gold, fragile, precious, beautiful, but everything I long to hold. My lips paint all of her face, erasing all her mental and physical scars, one kiss at a time.
Her hands drag through my hair. I kiss her neck, the pulse thrumming with arousal. We move like the world has shrunk down to this bed. She guides me into her inch by inch, and I swear, I nearly lose it. Her body welcomes me, grips me tightly. I bury my face in her shoulder as I move, kissing the freckle that I love. She arches into every thrust, one hand gripping my arm, her mouth letting out a soft moan. When she lets go, she’s so damn beautiful and free, I can barely hold myself together.
“God, Glitter Bomb,” I grunt.
Her nails dig into my shoulder and scalp, and she wraps her legs around my hips, drawing me deeper. Our rhythm is on a different schedule from our normal fireworks. This is comfort and surrender. No ropes or role-playing. Just two people stitching the other back together in the dark.
She gasps when I whisper her name into her mouth. Shudders when I remind her she’s safe. Comes apart beneath me with a soft sob that undoes me.
We collapse in a tangle of limbs and sweat. Kate rolls onto her side and lies with her head under my chin. She traces lazy circles on my ribs.
I stroke her hair, letting my breath sync with hers. “Are you okay?”
“Absolutely. That got a five-star rating, Daddy.” She punctuates each word with a kiss to my chest.
“I thought I was a ten...” I’ve picked up her book girlie terminology fast. “Where’s your gag? You’ll beg for eleven.”
She giggles. “You’re definitely my dream book boyfriend.”
No other words can possibly make me happier.
“Stay there.” I ease out from beside her and go into the bathroom, filling up a glass of water and grabbing a face cloth from the bathroom.
When I return, she blinks up at me, dazed.
“Drink, baby.” I tip the glass to her lips.
She drinks, hands curled around the glass. When she takes what she needs, I put the glass on her night table.
I crouch by the bed and gently wipe her down of sweat and cum. She watches me, lips parted, cheeks flushed, eyelids heavy. Once she’s clean, I pull out one of my shirts from the drawers and bring it back to the bed.
“Sit up, baby.” I fold it over her head when she does as I ask. Soft cotton and too big, but I like it on her.
Her legs curl toward me as I slide in beside her and tuck the covers over her, trapping the warmth around us. She shifts and finds the hollow beneath her chin, her breath fanning over my chest. I rub small circles between her shoulder blades, working out the remaining tension from her dream. She murmurs when I kiss the side of her head. Droopy eyelids close as she relaxes.
“You take such good care of me, King Daddy.” Her voice slurs.
I drag a lazy finger down her arm and study her profile in the early light. “How about you sleep and I cook?”
