Page 167 of Vicious Butterfly
Iwant to remove the haunted shadows from his eyes. I recognize them now. It’s not just anger, although Ryan has plenty of that, but the evidence of his deep wounds is forever trapped beneath the surface coloring his expression.
But just like with me, there is no wiping away the damage.
My poor, broken, wounded doll.
There’s no fixing either of us, but he can keep me on this side of sane, and I can keep him safe.
It’s the perfect match.
Mine.
I slam him against the wall again, giving him a filthy kiss. I can’t stop kissing him. What’s happened to me? Ryan moans into my mouth. I undo the ties of the scrubs they must have made him wear. I need to be in him as soon as fucking possible. It’s kinda pathetic how much I need him.
“This is your condo now, too,” I say as I work on getting him out of his clothes. “I’ll get you a key fob.”
“Oh, so I’m allowed to leave?”
“When you have permission.” Which, for the moment, is only when I’m with him.
He rolls his eyes, probably thinking I’m joking, but there’s no way I can. I won’t be able to think straight if I don’t know he’s safe and protected. “Don’t make me lock you in my dungeon, dollface.”
God, I’d love to have him in there. I’d make him so cozy. A special place just for him … My dick hardens more, thinking about it.
“You can stop daydreaming about it, Tate. Not happening.”
“Says you.” My eyes catch on his bare wrist. I’ve been wondering about that. “Where the fuck is your cuff?”
“I gave it to Gideon. For safekeeping,” he rushes out when my eyes narrow. “I couldn’t stand the thought of them taking it from me. I didn’t know what they’d do with it or me.”
Anger rises again. He went to them, even though he didn’t know what they’d do to him. That drives me fucking crazy.
“Mm-hmm,” I grunt. “He’d better not have fucked it up. If there’s even a scratch on it …”
“It has lots of scratches on it, Tate. You told me never to take it off. What did you think was going to happen to it during a game?”
“Just get it back.”
I finally divest him of the awful pants, letting his hard, leaking cock spring free. What a sight, and all mine. I take a long minute to drink in his luscious body. All the sculpted muscles, still pumped from all the adrenaline, his tattooed skin shaded with blooms of berry purple. I spin him around and smack his ass. He lets out a cry.
“Bed.”
I shed the rest of my clothes as we go, until I’m as naked as he is. It’s just us—freed. A decadence consumes me, one I don’t often feel. It’s unshackled, unbridled, but still pulsing with feral hunger. I usually have a tight grip on my self-control, but it turns to ashes around him anyway. Why fight it anymore?
Ryan scrambles backward onto the bed, the rhythm of his breath picking up as if he knows how thoroughly I’m about to ruin him. I slow down, prowling over him, sliding a hand down one of his thick hockey thighs. He spreads his legs, offering his body to me, and I settle between them.
“You make me so fucking hard … so fucking crazy,” I growl, leaning in to catch his lips. I grab his face, needing to bind him in some way. Our cocks touch, and our kiss turns feral, but I still sense his tentative fingers when they test the waters, brushing up my bare arm.
I might always be hyper aware, even with Ryan, but I want his touches. I moan in approval, deepening the kiss. He gets braver, digging his fingers in hard enough to bruise.
Exposing his neck with a rough jerk myself this time, I plant my lips on my favorite spot and deepen the already forming bruise there.Yes. This neck belongs to me. I think I’ll make sure it always bears a mark of my ownership.
Someday I’ll fuck him slow and sensually. Maybe. But I want him too fucking badly right now. Need him more than oxygen.
“I’m going to taste you first, baby.” I crawl down him till my mouth is at groin level. I scissor him open by gripping the underside of his left thigh, knee bent, and pushing it toward his chest. His balls hang down. I nuzzle my nose into the underside, inhaling. “Mmmm.”
Thankfully, whatever soap he used at Kline’s is drowned out by sweat and Ryan’s unique scent.Summertime.Best fucking smell. I lick up his crease, digging my tongue into his hole.
“That’s … good. Fuck that’s good, Tate.”
