by India Kells
Remaining immobile was an exercise in restraint, something she’d had minimal experience in. She’d always been a passionate lover, always wanting to devour her partner, get her fill, only to feel like an empty shell in the morning.
Luke distracted her wayward mind when he pushed her pants down her legs, crouching in turn, making sure to caress her all the way to her ankles. With the same slowness, he unlaced her boots one by one, making her lift her feet one by one, freeing her from her gear.
Rising, he placed kisses on her legs. She was still in her panties and camisole, but from the way Luke’s burning gaze looked at her, it was as if she was naked. Anticipation slowly replaced frustration. How could she be impatient when this fascinating man was indulging himself in her, making her the center of his world? Had she ever been that important to someone?
Now towering above her, Luke slid a finger over her bottom lip and smiled when she couldn’t resist swirling her tongue over his finger.
“Your turn.”
It took a few heartbeats for Sloane to understand what he meant. Her hands were shaking when she reached for him. Her old self would have torn at his clothes, turned everything into an inferno. Luke was pushing her to crave a slow burn, one she didn’t have complete control over.
As gently as she could, Sloane ran her fingers over his hair. Luke closed his eyes and moaned, which made her grin. Her fingers continued down his jaw, scratching at his beard, which made him chuckle. How she loved to see it, that relaxed grin melted something inside her, made her want to see more of it.
He was too tall for her to kiss him, so she moved to his coat, unbuttoning it. When her speed increased, Sloane reminded herself to slow down, to respect the promise she’d made to Luke to follow his lead, his desire.
When she pushed the coat off him, it was impossible not to indulge and run her hands over his muscled pectorals and shoulders, down his arms. Far from unaffected, Luke leaned into her touch, but Sloane took her time, followed his rules, and didn’t rush.
Not breaking eye contact, she undressed him, taking advantage of every patch of skin. It became her newfound pleasure to draw every shiver, explore every sensitive spot, indulge in every moan she could get. Soon, he was down to his briefs, breathing hard under her ministrations as if he’d run a marathon. A slow sheen of sweat gleamed over his forehead, but she couldn’t even gloat, as she was probably just as hot and helpless.
The black underwear strained to contain his erection, and before she satisfied her curiosity by pulling down his briefs, she cupped him. A rumbling hum of appreciation came from him, his hips thrust, pushing him firmer into her palm. He was hot and throbbing, and his reaction made her squeeze her thighs together. From the moment he’d closed the room’s door, she’d wanted to ease the tension between her legs, and he only pushed her further, forcing her to endure it as her need grew.
With his arms against his sides, Luke leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Do you feel as desperate as I do? How would you like me to slide my hand between your legs? Are you as wet as I think you are?”
Her voice was strained when she finally formed a coherent answer. “Why don’t you find out?”
The damn man chuckled when all she could do was pant. Luke took the lead again when he pushed her hand aside and pulled her camisole over her head. Blinded for a second, Sloane didn’t see him capture her one of her nipples before sucking it gently.
Tangled in her camisole, she scrambled to throw it away and take his head in her hands. Caressing, scratching, and pulling a little, it was clear she couldn’t divert his attention until he was good and ready, and as proof, he moved to lavish her other breast.
At the onslaught of sensations, her body began to move and undulate, stimulated by Luke, but restrained by her own mind. While his mouth was busy, rough fingers rasped against her body, down to her hips. She almost didn’t hear her panties being torn from her when Luke bit her nipple hard. The mix of pain and surprise nearly made her snap, but Luke’s slight squeeze on her hip reminded her to stay still.
When he let go of her breast with a popping sound, Sloane prayed he would reward her patience by moving lower, but he straightened and swept her into his arms like a bride. He was a scholar, and although his strength was undeniable, he only touched her with great care, with a gentleness she’d never known before. When he put her on the bed, his mouth returned to hers, more intense although still gentle. It was as if he poured all of his desire into her body, and it was working.
On a silent plea, she opened her legs, but he remained on his side, kissing her, only now his hand caressed every dip and valley on her body before settling between her thighs, cupping her as she’d done to him.
“Wet and trembling. You can’t realize how crazily beautiful and sexy you are right now. I’ve dreamed of having you like this, offered up to me, soft, but so strong. Everything beautiful about a woman is wrapped up in you, Sloane. Don’t you see it?”
Just as she was about to shake her head in denial, a teasing finger traced her sex. “Luke.”
“Yes, darling. I’m here, and I’m all yours, if you follow my lead. I want so much more. Don’t you want more, Sloane?”
“I want more, please. I can’t play this game anymore.”
“Yes, you can, because you’re the most powerful woman I know.”
Sloane was about to say otherwise when the pad of his finger rasped her clit. Her hands went to him as an anchor, her nails digging into his shoulders and arms.
“Easy, my beautiful warrior. Trust me.”
His touch intensified, even if it remained caressing and languid. Deep, rumbly, and so close, his voice had a hypnotic quality that pulled her under his spell even more until she was torn between her own screaming need and her promise to the man above her.
Her willpower slowly eroding, pleas poured from her lips until Luke shifted, sliding his arms around her body and switched their positions as if she weighed nothing.
Now on top of Luke and completely naked, it was clear what he wanted her to do, and it delighted her. In sensual retaliation, Sloane pushed Luke onto the bed and began an exploration of her own. Her heart skipped as her lips skimmed scars and raised skin, a reminder that his past life had been hell, and that for each scar she kissed, there were so many more invisible ones. Could he understand her demons more than she gave him credit for?
Loud grunts brought her back to the flesh and blood man, and how she wanted to offer him the same agony he’d given her. With the most loving touch she knew, Sloane did what she’d never done before; poured her entire soul into him, his pleasure, his moans, what made him tick, get tighter or soften with a sigh.
For the first time in her life, Sloane could push aside what had overwhelmed her for so long, the cravings, and reach calm inside her.
Like a purring cat, she rubbed her cheek on his abdomen, nipping and licking until she reached her prize. Taking her cue from him, she licked his cock over the fabric, looking him up to see her lover staring back, propped on his elbows. Never breaking eye contact, she peeled his last piece of clothing over his hips, freeing him for her to touch.
As she ran her tongue from balls to tip, Luke shook and his jaw clenched. His eyes were bottomless pools of liquid night, devouring her, telling her that he was reaching the end of his rope too.
On her hands and knees, she crawled upward, trailing her mouth over his shuddering body until she straddled his hips. Just as she was about to beg, Luke took her head to pull her down, devouring her mouth, his hands gripping her waist.
It was becoming harder and harder not to lose control, so she filled her mind with the hunger on his face as he pushed up until he rubbed his erection against her slick folds.
Sloane bit back a moan, pushed herself higher and reached between her legs to put the tip of his cock at her entrance.
Luke answered her prayer by meeting her halfway as she impaled herself on him.
She’d never made love so slowly, so deliberately, drawing out the p
leasure until it almost felt like agony. So hard and pulsing inside her, Luke slid in and out of her leisurely until she was on the verge of losing her mind.
“I can’t. I can’t continue, Luke. I need it harder. I can’t come like this. It’s too much.” Her voice was raw and now she shuddered, covered in sweat.
Luke sat up, pushing himself even deeper, positioning her legs around his waist. In that position, he continued to sway his hips after robbing her of any sort of control. Her breasts pressed against his torso, his chest hair abrading her sensitive nipples to the point where she moved even harder against him. Her lover cupped her face, pushing her damp hair away. This was way more unsettling than being naked before him. Strong arms came around her body, plastering her against him, his low voice reverberating through her being, setting her ablaze.
“Stop fighting, baby. Just stay with me. Only me. Shut down your brain on what to expect and only feel what I feel for you. The first time I laid eyes on you, you infuriated me, but all I could think about was turning you over my desk, lifting your skirt, and plunging myself deep inside you, just like I am now. And when we did it, do you remember? It was savage and raw, and I can still recall the sensation of emptying my balls inside you when you screamed as you came.”
The images he brought to her mind sent electric shocks through her core, her pussy greedy, but Luke kept a tight grip on her hips, maintaining the slow pace.
“Your fire drew me. I can’t help but touch you, but it’s not enough. I need to see if you’re as wet as I am hard. Constantly. And even if you make me cum like a freight train, I want more. Your mind, your trust, your heart.”
Sloane opened her lips to speak, but it was impossible to utter a single word. Emotions shut her up, clogging her throat, squeezing her heart. Her body shivered, the orgasm she’d believed impossible hovering just out of reach.
Her body’s senses were overloaded, but it was how Luke reached into the very fabric of her heart and soul that made her tumble.
“How I wish you could see yourself like I see you. You’re courageous, beautiful, and frustratingly stubborn. You’re so much more than the Vigilante or your addiction. Trust my body if you can’t trust my words, Sloane. One day you’ll believe in yourself and allow yourself to be part of your team for good. Allow love into your life. You’re worth it, Sloane. I love you.”
Her arms tightened around him as she cried out, her orgasm sweeping over her like a warm wave, making her drown in the pleasure and Luke’s scent. Lost to reality, the man in her arms shouted, his own pleasure overtaking him.
How could this incredible man believe in her when she’d never believed in herself? Seeing through her weaknesses when she couldn’t forgive them? Offer her so much when she was so afraid to give? She hadn’t thought life would be so cruel to put such a man on her path while she was this broken.
Tears fell from her eyes, all the energy in her body draining until there was no strength and her vision edged with black, as she was overwhelmed by love for the first time in her life.
Chapter 22
“Sloane!”
At her name, Sloane once again burrowed deeper under the covers. The outside world annoyed her, and she never wanted to deal with it ever again. It wasn’t the first time someone had yelled at her through the closed door. At first it had been Devin, who’d tried every joke he knew. Then Melina, whose worried voice almost made her cry again. Lance just yelled, and he’d even launched his big body against the door in vain. Sam, Joshua, Arno, and Nieve, all the team members had attempted to coax her out, but Sloane ignored them all.
In fact, she tried hard to shut off her brain, return to the oblivion of sleep. How long had it been since Luke had left? The moment his face materialized in her mind, she stopped breathing and her throat clogged with tears. After the most incredible sex of her life, scratch that, the most meaningful connection of her life, she’d woken up cold and alone. When Sloane went looking for him, she’d discovered all his things were gone. Lance had told her he’d left hours before and didn’t want to be contacted anymore.
There was no way to express the hurt she’d felt. No amount of pain, no hardship or sorrow she’d ever faced could compare to the state of her heart at that moment.
Her mind blanked until she found herself back in the room, locking the door behind her, even using a chair to block it, making sure nobody would bother her until she felt steadier, until the fact Luke had abandoned her, turned his back on her, didn’t make her want to scream in agony.
The locked door wasn’t to prevent people from intruding, but to keep her from leaving. Once the tears had dried, and desolation infiltrated every crevice of her heart, another hunger took hold, one she hadn’t felt so keenly in years. Sloane knew that if she left the room, her first stop would be to one of the city’s dark alleys, and not as the Vigilante, but as its counterpart, a much darker and ruthless demon she wasn’t sure she could vanquish another time.
The desire was gnawing at her like never before and it made her huddle even deeper under the covers, as if she could bury herself into the mattress.
“Sloane, please talk to me. I just want to hear your voice.”
Ben McKenzie’s soft drawl came from the other side of the door. Ben, the unshakable, the know-it-all, the profiler.
Even behind the door, under the covers, she’d heard him walking, the familiar thumping of his white cane following his steps on the creaky floor. The last thing she wanted was to be analyzed. It was useless. She was useless.
“Leave me alone, Ben. I’ll come out when I well damn please.” She almost didn’t recognize her own raw and trembling voice.
“No problem. If you don’t mind, I’ll sit here for a while.”
Was he serious? With a sigh, Sloane lay still. From the other side of the door, she heard rustling and a loud thump. True to his word, he was sitting on the floor outside her door.
Half expecting to sink back into her own abyss, praying for numbness, it was burning annoyance that drew her out of bed, and had her marching toward the door. How good it felt to be led by anger.
“Get lost, Ben! Preferably away from my door.”
“Want a coffee?”
Sloane threw her arms in the air at that nonsense. She could play that game too. “Do you have any cocaine? I could do with an upper right now. At the point I’m at, I’d even try something harder.”
Ben didn’t answer her. Her anger fizzling, she sat on the bed, hands shaking, her body bathed in a cold sweat. It felt so similar to the withdrawal symptoms she’d experienced during her rehab, fainter, but just as scary.
“I think waffles would go great with coffee. Or pancakes with butter. I love butter with syrup. I drown my pancakes in them. Even burned, they taste great with syrup.” The more he talked the more her stomach unknotted before rumbling. “Why don’t you take a shower while I go prepare pancakes? Make it quick, I’m hungry.”
Ben moved and shuffled behind the door before walking away.
Alone, Sloane stood, then hesitated. Standing at the end of her bed, she knew she was about to make the most important decision of her life but couldn’t make up her mind which way to go.
It was her stomach that took charge and pulled her toward the shower stall. If all this was for nothing, at least she’d have pancakes.
When she followed her nose into the kitchen, there was no way Sloane would admit she was feeling more human after the shower. The trembling had receded, and her brain wasn’t as filled with fog. However, her heart still ached for Luke, even if her brain understood he no longer wanted her.
“Glad you finally took that shower. Even from behind the door, I could smell your retched stink. I made a fresh pot of coffee and already poured you a cup.”
Ben was busy manning a pan over the stove, his white cane resting against the kitchen island. For anyone outside looking in, it would be impossible to guess he could barely see.
Her radar zeroed in on the steaming cup on the kitchen island, so she sat on t
he stool. The first sip didn’t warm her as much as she hoped, but maybe her expectations were too high.
The silence was only broken with the clatter of utensils being moved around, and her mind went to the last time Luke stood in this very place. It was so easy for her mind to conjure him up.
Ben slid a plate in front of her, but Sloane had to swallow a few times before considering taking the first bite. Ben refilled his cup and installed himself by her side, pancakes piled ridiculously high and that made her mouth quirk up. “You can’t seriously think you’re going to eat all of that.”
Ben angled his head as if considering it. “Seriously? No. But I’ve been here long enough to know that Devin will probably come up at some point and steal my plate, so I made enough for both of us.”
After drenching the pile with syrup, he passed the bottle to Sloane who did the same before risking a bite. Her throat worked hard to swallow but the gooey syrup helped. Forkful after forkful, she was surprised to see she’d reached the halfway point.
“Why did you ask me for cocaine, Sloane?”
At his question, her stomach seized, and she put her fork down as eating became impossible now. “I was joking.”
Ben nodded, and took a sip of his coffee, his movements economical, head still forward. “No, you weren’t. I know when you’re joking, and that wasn’t playful. It was desperate and it’s the reason you locked yourself in that room when Luke left. You never make light of drug use. You were forthcoming in opening up about your problem, so don’t stop now. I haven’t ever seen you in this much pain, and I know you can withstand an impressive amount of it. What happened with Luke? You can yell at me, shut the door in my face, but you won’t convince me that he isn’t at the root of it. Talk to me, Sloane. I promise it will stay with me.”
Trust wasn’t the reason she hesitated, but just thinking about it, voicing what scared her, hurt her, seemed impossible but she wasn’t a coward. So as she’d done with so many things in her past, she pushed through in the hope the pain would fade faster.
