Page 105 of Stolen Fate

I pushed her onto the bed without breaking contact, my fingers fumbling with the buttons of her shirt.

Finally, impatient, I yanked it apart and heard the buttons fly off and bounced against the wall. She gasped into my mouth, but I didn’t let her say anything. I cupped her cheeks with both hands and continued to kiss her.

I could spend the rest of my life kissing her, and I wouldn’t mind.

And how terrifying was that? That I was already thinking of a lifetime with her, and she had only just agreed to be mine.

We pulled away, panting and looking at each other as I moved my hands down to remove her shirt. I pushed the thin fabric off her shoulders, until it laid discarded on the bed, and took in all the lovely, smooth skin before my eyes. She was wearing a see-through black lace bra, a hint of her dusky pink nipples coming out at the top of the fabric with each hard breath she exhaled.

My mouth watered at the sight, and I couldn’t help myself when I moved a single finger over the fabric and pulled down until her tits came out on display, pushed out prominently by the underwire of her bra.

“Jace,” she moaned when I leaned down and took one nipple in my mouth. I sucked on the tender flesh and revealed the way her hands automatically went to my hair, pulling on the strand each time I sucked just a little harder.

I moved my hands down to the waistband of her jeans and unbuttoned them, pulling down the zipper until there was room for me to move my hand inside her panties, seeking out her drenched slit with my fingers. She groaned and pulled on my hair a little harder when I entered a single finger into her slick heat.

I let go of her nipple with a pop, loving the wet spot left by my mouth there. I blew on the skin and watched as it puckered under my gaze. “Do you like this?” I asked.

“Yes,” she groaned out when I curled my finger just a bit against her front wall.

I massaged her mound with my palm, moving across the sensitive flesh and pressing in on her clit. Her back arched off the bed and she grabbed my forearm, her hold tight, but she didn’t pull my hand away like I expected. It didn’t look like she knew what she wanted.

I shot her a wicked smile and increased my movement, wanting to drive her as crazy as possible. As crazy as she had driven me these past couple of weeks. As crazy as that Sunday evening, when I heard her touching herself and calling out my name when she came.

I had jerked off to the memory of that sound moments afterward and had never come that hard before. It had felt like I was a teenager all over again, rubbing one out in my own bathroom. I didn’t think I had ever jerked off as much in my life as I had since she came to live with us.

I increased my pace, knowing my girl liked it when I played rough, and Evelyn confirmed that when her fingernails dug even deeper into my skin. I was sure she would leave her mark. I didn’t want to be the only one bearing the mark of our frenzy, so I leaned down and suckled on the skin on her neck until I was sure I’d left a hickey there.

She was going to think of me when she looked in the mirror over the next few days. I pulled away and looked into her eyes. “Tell me you want this,” I said. “Tell me you want me.”

“Yes. Yes,” she panted. “I want this. I want you. Please Jace. I want you so bad.”

I smiled a little, then moved up until I was sitting on the bed beside her and regretfully pulled my hand out of her panties. She let out a small whimper in protest, but she quickly quieted when she realized I was pulling off her jeans—along with her panties. She lifted her hips up for me, so I could get them down all the way, and what an enticing image she made, especially when her pussy came into view. All I wanted was to bury my face between her legs until she begged brokenly for me to stop.

I wanted to torture her with sexual pleasure. I wanted to use her like the whore she was in my bed, yet treasure and worship her like the goddess she had always been in my eyes.

And I didn’t know where to start.

My hands shook when I reached behind her for her bra clasp and removed the flimsy fabric from her shapely form so she was naked and breathing hard on my bed.

Just this sight alone could drive any sane man to commit the most heinous of crimes, and I realized that was what I had become under her gaze. There wasn’t a sin big enough that I wouldn’t commit for her.

I moved my fingers gently across her skin, taking in every freckle, every blemish, every perfect imperfection that I could find.

She wasn’t perfect, but she was perfect for me. Everything about this woman turned me on, and I could easily see myself worshiping her like this for the rest of our lives.

My fingers made their way down her belly, right to where her scar was.

I knew she didn’t know I knew what this scar meant, but I did, and I fucking loved the scar. I loved what it meant, what it symbolized, and I wished I had been there for her when it happened. I wished I had been given the opportunity to hold her hand through it all and tell her everything was going to be okay because I was there.

I hated even the thought of her going through all of that alone.

I leaned down and kissed the scar.

She sucked in a sharp breath but didn’t say anything.

It had been quite a shock to see it for the first time many months back, mostly because I hadn’t really given much thought to Elliot’s birth, yet the scar made it real.

I looked up and met her eyes as I continued to kiss her scar softly and, in the light, I could see her eyes getting teary.

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