Page 67 of Swerve (Boosted Hearts 1)

His hands went to either side of my face, holding firm, staring into my eyes. “The heart covers nothing,” he said. “Nothing. This pussy is mine, Ruby. You are mine, always were, always will be.” He lifted me, his cock sliding out to the tip, then he lowered me back down, painfully slow. “Anyone before,” he grunted. “They don’t matter, don’t exist. It’s just you and me.”

My eyes started to sting. “You really want that?” I whispered.

“Fuck yes,” he hissed through his teeth, expression fierce.

He was deep inside me, but held my body still, had complete control over my movements, and right now he was torturing us both. I pointed to the pink rose tattoo between my neck and shoulder. “You remember when Valery got rid of my cat?”

He dipped his chin.

“This is the rose you gave to me. I stole Valery’s instant camera and took a picture of it. Kept it for years. I got that one on my nineteenth birthday.”

He cursed and groaned again, lifting me and slamming me back down, grinding up this time.

I cried out, panting and shaking, but forced myself to go on. I lifted my hands, wrists aimed at him. I had a moon on one side and a star on the other. “I got these on my twentieth.” I dropped my hands back to his shoulders, slid them around his neck, then up to cup his jaw. “When I was twelve and the other kids teased me about my thrift shop clothes, and I told you I desperately wanted a new dress. You told me you’d give me the moon and the stars if you could.”

His lips peeled back, teeth gritted.

“That meant everything to me.”

“I felt so fucking helpless, not being able to give you what you needed,” he growled, taking one of my hands and pressing his mouth to the moon I’d just shown him.

I twined my fingers with his and lowered his hand to the ink on my thigh, the newest one I’d gotten, just a few short weeks ago. It felt like a lifetime since then.

He glanced down, thumb gliding over it, over the delicate-looking pink petals.

“You remember the beautiful cherry blossom tree outside your bedroom window?”

“Yeah,” he rasped, fingers flexing, pressing into my skin.

“When I came to you that night, I’d picked one, tucked it behind my ear, ready to tell you I loved you . . . but then I saw you, with someone else . . .”

“Baby . . .” he groaned.

I shook my head. “I got this one because I’d convinced myself to let you go, that I had to finally . . . let you go . . .” I leaned forward, resting my forehead against his. “But I couldn’t . . . because it’s always been you and me, Neco. It’s never stopped being that for me. My body . . . it’s covered in the story of us. Almost every bit of ink I’ve gotten, somehow, represents us.”

His hands were back on my face, pushing my hair back, pulling my mouth down on his, filling my lungs with his rough breaths, his heart thudding hard and fast against mine. I started moving against him, rolling my hips, keeping him deep, our mouths fused together the whole time. The way he held me so tight, I couldn’t do much more. It was perfect. He started shaking under me, fingers digging deep enough to leave bruises. I wanted them. Wanted a reminder of this moment.

My orgasm built slower this time, taking me by surprise when it rolled though me. My inner muscles clamped down hard on him over and over and I cried out, feeding him every moan and whimper. He did the same, shaking and jerking beneath me, pulsing inside me, groaning, chest vibrating against mine.

We stayed like that for the longest time, neither one speaking, just holding each other.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he stood, and strode down the hall, kicking the door open to his bedroom and lowered me to his bed.

I dragged back the covers and climbed in as he slid in beside me. His expression was fierce as he wrapped his big body around me.

After a while, he said into the silence, voice rough, “I thought I was doing the right thing. After what happened that night, what those guys nearly did to you . . . I nearly came after you, I wanted to make you my girl. I’d never wanted anything so bad in my life. But I couldn’t have you. So I drank, I fucked, I did whatever I could to try and get you out of my head, because it was my job to look after you, to keep you safe, to keep you away from my fucked-up world . . .

“I know,” I whispered back.

His arms tightened around me, burying his face against my shoulder. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. You were protecting me, like you always have.”

“I’m never letting you go again, Ruby. You know that, right?”

“Yes.” And I did. I had no doubt, not in my heart or my mind.

“I’m gonna try and keep a lid on my temper, but I’m on edge here, and until this shit is over with, I’m gonna stay on edge.” He kissed my shoulder. “If I start acting like a dick, tell me to shut the fuck up.”