Silver Lining (Diamond #3) - Skye Warren Page 0,22

has to lay down. Has to rest, before the storm breaks over us. “That’s asking too much. You protected me by shooting him. Now it’s my turn to protect you.”

She gets her feet over the side of the cot before I can stop her.

“Holly, what the hell—” I try to stop her, but she’s throwing all her weight against me. It would tear her wound apart if I insist, so I’m forced to hover around her, ready to catch her if she falls. “I swear to god I will tie you to this bed with no remorse.”

“Good,” she says. “At least that would be the real you.”

There’s nowhere to go except back, and she’s pushing herself into me, butting against me, with such a furious insistence that I could laugh if we weren’t waiting for the end of the world.

Holly puts both hands up on my chest and pushes.

My hands come up on instinct. She can’t be doing this, can’t be using her body like this, not when it’s injured. And she knows it.

She lets herself go, a wicked streak in her eyes, and I land in the chair with her between my legs. Holly clambers up onto my lap, her breath hitching.

The sheet falls.

All my noble intentions fall with it.

Because she's straddling my lap, reaching down for the fly of my pants. And I’m running my hands over the curves of her hips and down to pinch her ass. Hard.

I want to leave bruises. Even if they come for us, she’ll have my fingerprints on her skin. Fucked up? Yes. But I never claimed to be otherwise.

Even through my jeans I can feel her pussy, warm and wet against my cock. It would be so easy to slide inside, to pump inside her toward oblivion. It’s the only heaven I’ll ever know. The only heaven I’ll ever need. I pull her flush against my erection, and she whimpers. The pressure feels incredible for me, but I know it’s too much for her. The taut denim is too rough against her secret flesh. I drop my head back and stare at the cold, dark ceiling, reveling in the uneven pleasure. Above us is a place of worship. What kind of god would make men hard and rough? Women are so soft, like flower petals. I’ll grind her into pieces on the altar of my lust.

I stroke myself with her sex, rubbing her against me, enveloping my cock, lifting her entire body with every thrust. I’m not even inside her yet, and I’m about to come. Only that makes me stop. I sit back, breathing hard, trying to get myself under control.

Holly’s hands move quickly on my zipper. All these hours I’ve spent wrestling her into that damn cot and it’s still come to this—gripping her flesh, lifting my hips so my cock is freed from layers of cloth. My cock stands proud and thick between us, already glistening with pre cum.

I touch the tip to wet my finger and push it into her mouth. One finger. Two. Her eyes go wide, but she doesn’t fight me. She accepts me as I fuck her mouth this way, two fingers that taste like my come, rubbing my forefinger over her tongue, reveling in the damp heat. “That’s right,” I say, my voice low. “Show me how bad you want my come.”

And bless her, she does. She forms a beautiful suction on my fingers, and my cock flexes in the cool air between us. I push farther back, touching the back of her throat, and she gags around my hand. Even that makes me harder, the sound and the convulsion a reward all its own.

“Go ahead and fuck me, sweetheart. Work me good.”

She’s determined and already lifting her hips. Effort shines in her face while she works herself down onto me. It has to be painful. My job here is to stop her, to convince her to heal. The entry wound has healed better than the exit. Her insides are still torn to shit.

Then her wet heat envelopes me, and her inner muscles clench my cock, and I forget that I existed outside this moment. There’s only bliss and endless pleasure.

“Hold still,” I say between clenched teeth. I grasp her hips and thrust from beneath her, forcing my cock inside her, again and again, holding her suspended above me. It’s only slightly better than letting her fuck me. She still has to clench her muscles while I use her body. She could start

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