Page 81 of Ablaze

I stare at him, hearing his admission.

The rough pad of his thumb brushes across my cheek. “You might have been a victim once, but you’re a survivor now. Resilient, strong, and so damn beautiful. Show them what I see. Give them all of you, sprinkles. Don’t hide behind a single unnecessary thread.” He takes in a strangled breath. “That’s what I want for you.”

My eyes well, knowing he’s talking about tomorrow and the week after and the week after that. All the weeks we won’t have each other physically.

Dean pulls me in to lay a kiss on my beestung lips, keeping his there and inhaling the scent of my skin. I know he can feel the quiver in my lips and the quake in my chin as he pulls me closer by the waist so my nipples brush against his chest.

Does he feel it, too? The deep melancholy. The loss of everything good.

I’ve done this to us. First by accepting the job, and then by letting us obliterate the barriers we’ve always had erected.

The ending to a story written without a beginning.

And I ruined it.

Our kiss turns hotter, more desperate. His tongue thrusts inside me, similar to the way his cock did not long ago. Claiming, taking, consuming. A moan slips through his throat as he cups the back of my head, fisting my hair. His erection digs into my thigh, but we’re too engrossed in the kiss to move any other muscle.

“Sprinkles . . .” His whispered sigh has me pulling him further in, tangling my fingers with the long strands at his nape. “I’m . . .”

I pull back, disconnecting our locked lips and gaze into his eyes. He blinks but doesn’t continue. “You’re what?” I coax. I swear a sob is building inside me, and I don’t even fucking know why. “You’re what, Dean?”

His jaw clenches under my palm before he squeezes his eyes shut, closing the window he’d only briefly opened to give me a glimpse of his soul.

“Please.” I tighten my fingers on him. I don’t even know what I’m begging for. I don’t know what he was going to say, but I’m dying for him to finish. To let me in.

Dean unwraps himself from me and the cool air inside the room floats over my warm, exposed skin, making me shudder. He runs a hand over his face before turning to sit on the bed with his feet on the floor. He places his elbows on his knees and scrubs his face again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I lay a hand on his back, but it slips when he rises to his feet, turning to face me. Without a word, he scoops me into his arms like I weigh nothing at all and carries me into the bathroom.

Flicking on the light, he puts me down on my feet and turns on the shower without any words. We’re already undressed, so as soon as the water is the right temperature, Dean pulls me in with him.

He positions us so I’m under the spray, squirting shampoo on his palm. He massages my scalp so gently, so affectionately, you’d think I was made of porcelain. Getting soap on his hands, he lathers my skin from my neck down, paying special attention to my breasts and between my thighs.

The steam from the shower and Dean’s touch has me feeling languid and lithe, like I’m no longer in control of a single muscle. I don’t know what time it is at this point, but all I can think about is pressing my head to his chest, having him envelop me with his strong arms, and drifting off to sleep.

Once I’ve rinsed everything off, I do the same for him, washing him from head to toe. I roll my thumb over his piercing, and Dean’s length jerks against my hand. I can feel the heat taking over my skin, my eyes, as my hand wraps around his shaft.

Pressing my fingernail under a bead, I tug on it and Dean groans. His head falls back under the spray, trickles of water rolling down his broad chest and arms. He places a possessive hand on my hip while the other braces against the shower wall, almost like he’s trying to keep himself upright.

I work his hard length from base to tip, rubbing my thumb over the metal beads and tugging them a few more times, until he’s practically vibrating with need. Pressing his shoulders so he leans against the shower wall, I get down on my knees.

“Fuck, Mala.” His throaty groan intermingles with the splash of the water hitting all around us, and he places his dick on my lips like he can’t stand not having it in my mouth for even a second longer. “Suck my cock, baby.”

My pussy contracts at his words, and as much as I want to relieve the pressure between my thighs using my fingers, I focus on him.

I widen my mouth as far as I can, wrapping my lips around his tip before sucking it over my tongue. I roll my tongue over the beads, playing with them inside my mouth, and making him huff out a strained breath.

Dean gathers my wet hair in his hand while I stroke him from base to tip where my mouth is, before I shimmy down, taking him as far as I can go.

“Oh, Jesus.” His nostrils flare as his hand tightens around my hair, guiding me up and down his shaft. “Fuck! Take that cock, baby. God, you take it so good.”

I pump him slow and then fast, sucking in time with the strokes of my hand and rolling my tongue over his piercing, knowing how much he likes it.

“God, this is going to be embarrassingly fast, Mala. I’m about to fill your mouth with my cum. Don’t fucking stop.”

I have no intentions to. Instead, I hollow out my cheeks and suck, hard and fast, placing my hand on his ridiculously taut ass and pulling him even further so he hits the back of my throat. I can feel my gag reflex kicking in, but I’ll be damned if I stop now.

I feel his entire body tremble as his orgasm builds. Within a few seconds, Dean spills into my mouth with a hiss and groan, his hooded eyes watching my throat work as I swallow every drop.

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