Respect (The Breaking Point Book 3)

by Jay Crownover

  The door wasn’t locked so it swung open easily under my hand. For a split second I had an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. It made my steps falter and panic rise in my chest. I struggled to breathe and tried to scold myself for being ridiculous. The man hadn’t smuggled me halfway across the country with a target on his back to immediately turn into the arms of another woman. I was being ridiculous, but I suddenly had a very clear view of just how powerful old fears could be and understood exactly how determined Booker had been when he came after me. Knew exactly the fear that engulfed Booker when he thought he was going back to prison.

  Before I could dive too deeply into the darkness and doubt, the door was yanked out of my hold and I was pulled into the room by impatient hands.

  I let out an ‘oomph’ of surprise as Booker kicked the door closed behind me and pushed me up against the flat surface. He collected my hands in one of his, pulling them above my head and pinning them to the door as he pressed the length of his hard body into the front of mine. I let my eyes eagerly crawl all over him. There were no cuts or bruises. No blood or discomfort from what I could see. He appeared perfectly fine, and the look in his eyes immediately sped up my heartrate and trapped my breath in my lungs.

  His lips landed on mine, followed by a hungry growl. One of his knees forced its way between my thighs, and I lifted up onto my toes as he slowly rubbed it against the notch at the apex of my thighs. I gasped into the kiss and let my head fall back with a thunk on the door. Booker pulled back, those dangerous eyes burning all the way through me.

  “This is what I wanted to do when you walked through the door that night.” He kissed me again as I wiggled impatiently against his unyielding strength. Having all his power directed at me, focused on making me feel good, was a very heady combination. It would be incredibly easy to get addicted to the sensation of being the sole target of Booker’s intensity and passion. He went to my head so fast, it made my brain fuzzy and my muscles turn liquid and pliant. “I wanted to make you mine. I wanted to make you a million promises and give you a hundred reasons to stay.”

  I couldn’t move my hands since he had them trapped, so I kissed him back with just as much fervor and adoration as he kissed me and told him, “I’m all for a redo. If there was ever a situation I wanted a chance to erase and replace with something better, it was that night.”

  He made a noise of agreement and nuzzled his bristly cheek against mine. With his free hand, he dragged the backs of his fingers along the line of my jaw and down the curve of my neck. It was a deliberately sensual caress. One meant to seduce and entice. I was going to tell him he didn’t need to lure me into his lair. I was already there, ready and willing to burn with every ounce of passion he gave me, with no intention of leaving . . . ever. But, if he wanted to take his time and explore all the things we’d rushed through and missed in our haste the last time we were together, who was I to dissuade him?

  Booker didn’t do sensitivity and tenderness, but he was making an effort for me. It was enough to make me fall for him all over again.

  He opened his hand wide over the top of my chest, fingers spanning my collarbone and his thumb stroking my raving pulse. He pressed his leg harder against my aching center and bent forward so he could touch his forehead to mine. I tugged on my hands because I wanted to hold him, and I wanted to pull off his clothes. I was irritated that all those muscles and the warm, inked, and scarred skin covering them were hidden behind layers of cotton and denim. I gave a whimper of frustration, but Booker swallowed it with another tongue-tangling kiss.

  After kissing me senseless and devouring my mouth for a solid five minutes, he finally pulled back and dropped my hands. I instantly reached for the hem of his thermal shirt as he took hold of the hem of my t-shirt. We took turns stripping each other down. All of our clothes landing in a tangled pile a few feet away. I made sure to look for any injuries that may have been hidden by his clothes, but all I got was an eyeful of naked Booker. And what a sight every inch of him was. Miles and miles of rippling muscle, cut and carved like he was sculpted by a great artist. He had the body of a warrior. Each battle fought and won engraved on his skin. All those imperfections made him even more beautiful. Nothing was easy about Noah Booker. Not even looking at his perfect body.

  I released a tiny sigh of appreciation and ran my hands over his chest. The heavy muscles in his pecs jumped at the touch and his abs visibly tightened. My body reacted instantly to his responsiveness. My nipples pulled tight, and I could feel the wet place between my legs start to throb in a slow, steady pulse. Not to be left out, Booker reached for me, hands skating around my waist and sliding down until he had his hands full of my ass. I laughed when he lifted me like I weighed nothing and I wrapped my legs around his trim waist as he once again backed me into the front door. I could have asked for a bed, but I loved the idea that he couldn’t wait. We’d been apart for so long, any extra steps to get him inside of me seemed like a waste of time. Knowing he didn’t want to wait for me for a single second longer went straight to my head. I was shocked to learn it was entirely possible to feel drunk on love and that I was in the throes of every ounce of it right now.

  With my back against the door and my arms around his neck, there was no place my skin wasn’t touching the heat of his. He kissed me again, and my eyes rolled back in my head when I felt his hand settle low at the base of my throat. I dug my heels into the small of his back and arched my hips so I could feel his hardness against my softness. There was an emptiness gnawing at my insides, and he was the only person capable of filling the void. I felt the flared tip of his cock drag through my wet folds and hummed in appreciation. I rocked against the rigid length, urging him to come inside of me. The hand holding my ass shifted, and I felt the very tips of his fingers ghost through my wet folds.

  He made a noise of appreciation as his mouth nibbled across mine. The scrape of his beard against my chin was surprisingly erotic, so I rubbed my face against the bristles and dragged my nose along the rough line of his stubborn jaw.

  His broad head nudged my clit and I felt the contact like an electric jolt shooting up my spine. He chuckled at the noise I made and for the first time ever, a full, bright smile crossed his hard face. It was the most breathtaking thing I'd ever witnessed in my life, and it was enough to completely erase the memory of the night I’d walked away from him.

  He repeated the move, rocking his hips forward so his cock nailed my clit with each bump and thrust. I could feel my pussy quivering in anticipation, and I knew I was already soaked and aching, just waiting for him to fill me up.

  The hand that had been playing between my legs left a wet trail across my skin as it returned to my backside. My eyes widened to double their normal size when I felt his fingers not only firmly clasp one taut cheek, but also slip into the valley between them. It was a bold touch, and I could see him watching for my reaction. If he wanted me to protest, he was out of luck. I’d gone without him for so long, I was willing to take everything he wanted to throw at me, but only because I knew he would immediately stop if I asked.

  His smile was blinding and it grew wicked when I didn’t back down from his silent challenge. He canted his hips at a different angle and I felt the tip of his erection prod my fluttering opening. He was so big the first stretch to accept him always made me catch my breath, but this time I was distracted by how much heat he was generating and how unbelievably good he felt sliding into me. The hand at the base of my throat tightened, and his teeth bit into my lower lip.

  He groaned and started to pull back, when his eyes suddenly popped wide and his expression shifted from unfiltered joy to something that almost looked like agony.

  “I need to put a condom on. Fuck. I can’t think straight when I get my hands on you.” He started to pull out, but I locked my legs around him and rolled my hips against the stiffness still lodged inside of me.

  We both groaned at the sensation that followed. I practically whispered, “I’m protected and clean. I haven
’t been with anyone in over a year. We don’t need one if you’re safe.”

  He watched me for a second, and I could practically see him debating on whether or not he was going to say whatever it was that was making his eyes look stormier than usual.

  Finally, he relented, sinking all the way inside of me in one long thrust while muttering, “I’m good. I get checked out every few months and after any incident where I come into contact with blood. I haven’t been with anyone in a long time, Karsen. A lot longer than a year.”

  It was hard to think with his hips hammering into me and lips making love to my ear. Somehow, I kept enough of my wits to demand, “How long? How long has it been, Noah?”

  He groaned and buried his face in the curve of my neck. His pace picked up and I could feel the door rattling and shaking behind me. He was panting and his breath was blazing hot on my skin. Since his cock was bare inside of me I could feel every ripple and every pulse as my body milked him and fluttered around his wide shaft.

  “Four years. I haven’t touched anyone in four years.” His admission was almost silent. The words more a movement of air than an actual sound. “I didn’t want anyone who wasn’t you.”

  If it was anyone besides Booker, I wouldn’t have believed him. But this man never lied to me. I wanted to cry for him and kiss him stupid all in the same breath. I hated the thought of him being alone, the idea of him denying himself something as basic as sex. But I loved that when he told me he waited for me, he really meant it. He was a very special man, and I was determined to do whatever I had to in order to make sure he, and the rest of the world, realized it.

  “That’s a lot of lost time for us to make up, Noah.” It broke my heart to realize he’d missed out on just as much as I had over the last four years.

  His confession was enough to push me right to the edge. I could feel my body start to spasm and quake. I felt my insides tighten and my spine stiffen. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him how much I loved him and always would, but he was sneaky and devious, and the hand I forgot was lingering behind me suddenly shifted, and I felt his wet fingers slide against another sensitive part of me, forcing my back to bow and my hips to grind relentlessly against his. There was another burn and stretch as my body adjusted to the dual invasion, but I was so full, so consumed by Booker and surrounded by pleasure, there was no holding onto reality anymore.

  I shattered under his careful ministrations. Screaming his name. Chanting “Noah, Noah, Noah” over and over again. I nearly strangled him as my arms locked around his neck, looking for an anchor to tie me to him as wave upon wave of raw, unfiltered satisfaction and contentment rolled over me. It was the kind of orgasm that came with white spots in my vision and the immediate loosening of my limbs. I felt boneless and turned inside out.

  A few more thrusts that felt like they were going to put me through the door had Booker following me into the oblivion. His eyes slammed shut and his cheek pulsed under his scar. He muttered something which may have been a prayer or a curse under his breath, and we both gasped at the sensation of his hot release filling me up. It was a messy, visceral fuck. One I would never forget and wanted to repeat as soon as possible. And if the blissed-out expression on his rugged features was any indication, Booker felt the same way.

  “Never fucked without a condom before. Always thought it was too risky, considering my history. You feel beautiful wrapped around me, Karsen.” He sounded like he was in awe. “Thank you for giving me this.”

  I sighed and dropped a kiss on the end of his nose. I could feel all kinds of slippery, sexy stuff sliding down between us, and as raw and intense as it was, we needed to clean up.

  “It was always yours. It just took you a while to come and collect it. But if you feel like you owe me one,” I waited until he was looking at me and gave him a cheeky grin. He was so sexed out and compliant I knew there would never be a better time to ask. “How about going with me to Race and Brysen’s wedding?”

  Booker

  I may have spent the last four years alone with only my hand for company when I needed to get off, but it was fair to say Karsen kept her word when it came to making up for lost time. She and I barely left my bed in the days leading up to the wedding. She pried herself loose to do all the maid-of-honor things she was obligated to attend to. But when she wasn’t going to fittings, or shoe shopping, or to a hair appointment, she was naked and under me or over me as we learned every inch of each other’s bodies. She was just as voracious and insatiable as I was. Her hands were always reaching for me, and her mouth was always hungry for a taste of mine. She was wildly uninhibited in bed . . . and against the wall . . . and on the kitchen counter. . . . and bent over the couch. She was a breath of fresh air, and the more time we spent together, the more certain I became that there was no breathing easy without her. I had years on her, in both age and experience, but every day I felt like she was teaching me something new.

  And yes, I even agreed to go to the stupid wedding with her, because it was impossible to deny her anything when she rode my dick so good and so often I forgot my own name.

  I was supposed to deliver her to the fancy hotel in the good part of town, where Race had grown up, later in the afternoon. Brysen wanted everything surprisingly traditional for a woman who was knowingly marrying a criminal kingpin. The hotel was old and high end. It was going to be an odd event. I was almost glad I agreed to go, because I was curious how Bax was going to handle being forced to wear a tux while spending the evening in the exact type of place he hated. The crystal chandeliers were bound to give him hives, and I was willing to bet good money my fellow ex-con wouldn’t touch a drop of the expensive champagne Race was having flown in from France.

  However, before I handed Karsen over to get primped, plucked, and painted, I was going to do my best to fuck her through the mattress she was currently bent over. If there was a prettier sight than her ass up in the air, pushing back to meet each thrust with a force and vigor matching the snap of my hips, I had yet to see it. She had her forehead pressed against the bed, one hand clenching and unclenching the comforter. The other dipped between her legs and I could feel the brush of her fingers against my cock every single time I slid out of her and pressed back in. She was toying with her clit and chanting incomprehensible words as we moved in perfect sync with one another. I was entranced by the sight of her hair slithering across the elegant line of her spine and sliding over her shoulders. I was also completely obsessed with the faint redness between her slender thighs from the scruff on my face. She asked me not to shave, told me she liked the beard that I was growing. But the bristles were hell on her sensitive skin.

  I rocked into her harder, reached out for a handful of her pale hair so I could use it to pull her head back. I wanted to see her expression. I still couldn’t believe she was with me now, how I was allowed to leave marks all over her and come inside of her. There wasn’t anywhere on her body I hadn’t claimed as my own.

  She obediently turned her head to accept a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. The rough mashing of lips and teeth made her laugh, but the sound slipped away and turned into a gasp when I hit the spot inside of her guaranteed to make her turn into liquid heat and a quivering mass of pleasure. Her eyes drifted closed and her teeth clamped down on her lower lip. I replaced her fingers, which had gone lax between her legs, with my own. Trapping her swollen little clit between my fingers and giving the already sensitive nub a tug. A rush of wetness coated my cock where it was buried inside of her. She let out a high-pitched keening sound and rolled her hips in a tiny circle seeking more friction and more pressure on the tortured point. Her entire body vibrated in response and her head dropped back down to the bed as she pushed back on my hammering cock as if her life depended on it.

  I could feel my orgasm pushing its way through my body. I could feel it circling my spine and running through my blood. There was a roar between my ears, and I felt my heart trying to beat its way out of my ribcage. I groaned her name and pulled her hips
violently against mine as my cock kicked and jumped, firing my release deep inside of her. She mumbled something incoherent as her body locked down on mine, dragging another spasm out of my spent cock. Given ten minutes or so, I was pretty sure I could go again. My refractory period where she was concerned was shockingly short.

  I couldn’t get enough of her.

  Every time we were together like this, the experience stole away one of the bad memories taking up so much space in my soul. Slowly but surely, she was doing exactly what she promised, she was chasing away all the demons who owned so much of who I was and who I had been for so many years. She was giving me back all the things I’d had taken away from me.

  I pulled out of her with a strangled noise and smoothed a hand down the long line of her back. She was so elegant, built so sleek and refined. I growled as I watched the evidence of our hurried coupling start to drip and slide over the loved skin of her thighs. It was so hot and settled the territorial, possessive parts inside of me that refused to let her go for any reason. I stroked her curves as she collapsed on the bed in front of me. I loved how she was willowy and graceful. It made the tensile strength running throughout her lithe frame even more appealing. She didn’t fit the everyday image one might have of a fierce warrior and dangerous combatant, but she was. Karsen was a fighter through and through. I was still getting used to the fact she was fighting for me, for us.

  She was everything I’d ever wanted, and everything I was so sure I didn’t deserve to have.

  I tugged on the hair still wrapped in my fist and gave one pert ass cheek a firm smack. The sound echoed in the room followed by her indignant yelp of surprise. It wasn’t the first time I’d taken a hand to her ass, but this time it was to get her moving from her blissed-out state rather than to get her off. Karsen had several surprising interests when it came to what she wanted in bed. I refused to think about where her curiosity came from, and instead focused on being the man who provided her with everything she needed. She gave me a pointed look over her shoulder, and I lost myself in the sight of her satisfied gaze and kissed-swollen lips. She was going to look totally well-fucked when I dropped her off. My inner barbarian was thrilled.