by Carian Cole
He removes my shirt and bra, his lips and fingertips trailing up and down my arms, then down between my breasts, teeth grazing here, tongue caressing there, coaxing each inch out of its coma of sensation. My body awakens under his patient, sensual touch as numbness recedes into the shadows of the past and a deep yearning takes its place, here to stay.
He stands and removes my boots then reaches for the button of my jeans, glancing up the length of my body until his gaze rests on my face, searching my expression for a sign of consent, and I smile softly.
Yes
My jeans and panties are slowly pulled off, and he kneels at the end of the bed, his hand still holding my foot, and he plants a ring of kisses around my ankle, following the faded rope scar from so long ago. Mistakenly, I thought it had healed, but I realize it hadn’t, not really, until this man I love put his hands on me and freed me. He moves up my body like a lion, slow and sure, dragging his tongue up my inner thigh, sending goose bumps across the surface of my skin. I reach for him, my hands just barely touching his tousled hair, but he resists my urging. Instead his lips halt right below my belly button. He traces the lettered scars with his lips, lavishing kisses across each one, his hands capturing mine at my sides. As I close my eyes, a single tear slides down my cheek. Maybe it’s for the little girl who was sliced for crying too much for her mommy. Maybe it’s for the man who’s always going to punish himself. Or maybe it’s for us, for being so twisted and tied with guilt and love.
A twin teardrop falls upon my chest as he crawls up the bed, and my heart clenches with overwhelming love for him. He kisses my lips then pulls away slightly. “We’re going to be weirdly good together,” his raspy voice whispers. “I promise.”
I smile against his lips as they come down on mine again, harder this time, sealing his statement. I know we will.
His hand slides languidly down between our bodies as we kiss, his fingers expertly working their magic, his thumb flicking my clit into a frenzy while his finger gently pushes into me.
I reach up and push his hair back from his face and move my lips across his cheek, kissing across his scars, until I reach his ear. “I want you,” I whisper.
His breathing deepens as I slide my hands down his muscled back until I reach the band of his jeans, skimming my fingers to the front to unbutton them. He leans up a bit and watches me with lustful eyes as I pull the zipper down. Noticing the tremble of my fingers, he covers my hand with his and kisses me long and deep, his warm breath mingling with mine, before moving off the bed to kick off his boots and step out of his jeans. I’m unable to take my eyes off him, my cheeks burning as I take in his muscular, tattoo-decorated body. The scars might be there, but I don’t see them. All I see is a whole lot of hotness that even my virgin body is undeniably craving. Call it chemistry or instinct, lust or love. It’s all those things and more…and I’m damp between the thighs, my pulse quickening, reveling in all his hard, commanding nakedness.
As I lie there thanking whatever God may be listening for the love and devotion of this beautiful man, a flicker of confusion distracts me when he pulls his wallet out of his jeans pocket, but understanding slowly settles in when I realize what he’s doing. Protection.
My eyes widen as he saunters back to the bed, refusing to avert from his full, stiff length.
“You are so. Fucking. Beautiful.” He cups my breast in his hand, lowering his head to swirl his tongue over the peaked nipple before pulling it into the warmth of his mouth, the graze of his teeth making me gasp.
Grasping his cock, he rubs the tip slowly up and down my opening, and my entire body quivers and clenches at the sensation. I grip his arms, biting my lip.
His mouth meets mine again, and a groan sounds in his throat when I press myself up against him and wrap my leg around his. I’m a puppet to the mounting passion, succumbing to the strings of desire.
“Tell me you want me again,” he begs, his voice deeper and growlier than ever, and it melts me like warm chocolate.
“I want you.” I kiss his lips softly and stare up into his fiery blue eyes. “All of you. Always.”
He slides into me, hot and throbbing, showering me with never-ending kisses as he moves in and out of my depths, my body stretching to take him in.
If it hurts, I don’t feel it. That part of me was taught to shut off long ago.
What I do feel is an exquisite ecstasy that builds with each thrust and an intense craving to ride against his hard body and bury my face into his neck as he shudders and moans my name. Within seconds I’m chasing him to that same place, my body quivering uncontrollably, my heart pounding in perfect unison with his.
Touching my cheek, he brings my face to his and kisses me so softly…so lovingly…and for so long that I think my heart will finally burst into a million pieces just so I can love him even more.
He grabs the magic blanket and pulls it up over us and turns us onto our sides together, wrapping me up in his embrace under our ceiling window. Just as we slip into a blissful nap, Poppy and Boomer jump on the end of the bed and snuggle up at our feet.
I’m not lost anymore. I’m finally home, where I’ll be safe, warm, and loved by this beautiful man fate handed to me…and I’m going to make him smile every day for the rest of our lives.
Fairy tales do come true. You just have to believe.
They Lived Happily Ever After
Bonus Scene
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About the Author
I HAVE A passion for the bad boys—those covered in tattoos, sexy smirks, ripped jeans, fast cars, motorcycles, and of course, the sweet girls that try to tame them and win their hearts. My debut series, Ashes & Embers, follows the lives of rock band members as they find, and sometimes lose, the loves of their lives. The Devils Wolves series is a spin off series from Ashes & Embers, but can be read as standalones.
Born and raised a Jersey girl, I now reside in beautiful New Hampshire with my husband and our multitude of furry pets. I spend most of my time writing, reading, and vacuuming.
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Acknowledgments
This book was hard to write. I struggled, I cried, I screamed, I pounded the delete key. When I finally got my head back together, and the characters trusted me enough to write their story, I was lucky enough to have some very special ladies help me in more ways than I can count.
I don’t like to publish names for privacy reasons. But I think…and I hope…that those special gals know how very much they mean to me, and how grateful I am to have them with me on my writing journey. Some have been with me since the beginning, and some are new, but each of them mean the world to me and I wouldn’t be able to write my characters without them. Honestly, I wouldn’t be able to get through most days without their patience as I ramble and rant. Thank you for believing in me.
Never underestimate how much the simple act of just listening, or just saying hi, or just being there could impact another persons life.
Thank you to all my readers and the amazing girls in my Facebook group! You guys make me smile every day.
Heartfelt thanks to all of you - whether you read my books, chatted with me, left a review, blogged, beta read, edited, proofed, pimped, commented, liked, attended a take over, supported my models, posted hot pictures of guys or cute pets in my group, or just listened to me - thank you! I love you!
Special thanks and immense gratitude to these people who brought this book to life: Regina Wamba
, Ty Sundeen, Abigail Schmitt, Heather Roberts, Kylie McDermott, The Eclectic Scribe, C. Marie, Proofing with Style.
As always, thank you to my love, Eddie Eddie Eddie, for being so patient with me, for all the little gifts to make me smile, and for talking to me for hours on end about my characters. I love you. ❤︎
