STELLa

I was deliciously sore. My body had so many sensations travelling through it I didn’t know where to start. My breasts felt heavy with the constant attention from Booth’s clever mouth, my nipples still erect and hard. My lips felt swollen and thoroughly used, and my vagina was a no-go zone. But I wanted to do everything again and again and again.

Booth had the skills. Skills that should be taught in high school to all males. Seriously, the things his tongue and lips made me feel? Yes, siree, oral sex was a favourite.

“So, you like my pussy-eating skills, do ya, Honey?”

I shrieked at the sound of the voice beside me, and as I jumped in the bed, I dislodged the sheet from my body, letting it fall to my waist. Booth laughed beside me. God, his laugh was beautiful, and he rarely did unless Shiloh was around. She could get anyone to laugh and smile. Well, everyone except for Creed, but he loved her just as much as the rest of the Wounded Souls men and would lay down his life for her.

“Good Lord, Booth, you scared the crap out of me,” I scolded him, embarrassed that I had spoken the words aloud. Again. I felt exposed all of a sudden with my breasts free for him to gawk at, and gawk he did. His eyes were narrowed as he took in my large breasts, looking at all the red marks, and love bites he had left all over them. Good grief. Did he leave any part of them unmarked?

Reaching for the sheet, I went to cover myself, but Booth stopped me.

“No, Honey, never cover yourself from me. I want you to be comfortable around me always,” he whispered as he rolled me onto my back. After he finally had his fill of me last night, Booth got up and cleaned between my legs with a warm washcloth. It was unexpected and had my eyes filling with tears at the sweet gesture. He had me so confused. He had suddenly done a complete three-sixty in his attitude towards me. I mean, it couldn’t be this simple, could it? Had a few close calls with my safety brought his head out of his arse? And could I trust that? I said I was his, and I meant it, but for how long was up to Booth. All I knew was that when he decided he’d had enough, my heart was going to be battered, bruised, and irreparable.

“Stella, Honey, no. Just no.” Booth growled at me, his body now completely covering mine. I could feel his hard length between my legs, begging to seek entrance to the Promised Land. I must admit, I was giddy from his quick movements, but I didn’t understand why he said what he said.

“Huh?”

“Stella, I am never, ever going to get enough of you. Ever.”

“I said that out loud?” Really?

 “Yeah, Honey, and it pisses me off, but I also understand why you think that. I am gutted that I have made you doubt yourself and don’t feel like you can keep me and that I will tire of you.” His voice was laced with remorse. I was torn. I wanted to open my legs and allow him to slip inside me—I needed to feel that magic again, to hear his groans and grunts of pleasure, and I definitely wanted to hear him growl my name again in that deep timbre of his—but we really needed to talk. He needed to explain things, and so did I.

With some manoeuvring, I wrapped one leg around Booth’s and flipped us over. Well, it wasn’t as easy as you might read in books, but after some awkward attempts, the result had me on top of Booth with his hard cock still between my thighs but also nestled deliciously in my folds. Hmm, nice.

“Shit, Honey, that was impressive, but I thought we needed to talk.” A shit-eating grin covered his handsome face.

“Oh, we are, but I want to see your eyes when you tell me why you have been such a dick to me for so long, and then, suddenly, when someone wants to end my life, you want me to be yours,” I said, my flippancy not pleasing him.

His eyes were suddenly dark and dangerous, his mouth a thin line. Nope, not happy at all.

“Stella, the attempts on your life are no laughing matter, so don’t make light of them. Yeah, it took something like a crazy fuckwad trying to run you off the road to get me to see what you mean to me. And yeah, it took seeing your battered face and body to get me to lay claim to you, but, Honey…” Booth reached between us and guided his hard cock into my pussy, which I knew was wet because I could feel the slippery heat from my core nearly drip from my body. Of course, his dick massaging back and forth through my folds did the job, too.

Pushing upward, he breached my entrance, and with one long, slow, calculated thrust up, he filled me. His dick was not only long but thick, too. The stretch was delectable, a teeny bit on the uncomfortable side, but not enough for me to stop him. Never that. As Booth gave me all his length, he grabbed hold of my hips, then stopped, holding himself still in me. His face was a picture of concentration and desire, a tick in his jaw and a fire in his grey eyes were the only clues he was having a hard time not to pull his hips back and slam back into me. Oh, thank God, he was affected by this need as much as I was.

“Honey, you have always been mine. From the minute I first saw you, I knew, but, Stella, I made things difficult for you, and for that, I am truly sorry.” I could tell he meant it, but something wasn’t making sense. How could I be the one if he still slept with Ingrid? I wanted to ask him, I did, but I feared saying those words aloud could somehow jinx us. I didn’t want her in this bed, and that meant her name, too.

“Why did you push me away so much?” I asked instead of the question that really plagued me. This one didn’t scare me as much as the Ingrid question. I concentrated on his face rather than his shaft, which had settled nicely in my heat. What I really wanted was for him to move and take me, make me his all over again. Willing myself not to clench my muscles, I waited for him to answer.

“Fuck, Honey, where do I start? You are perfect, so good and innocent and pure, and I have blood all over my hands—literally. I have some fucking crazy person with a grudge against me, targeting the women of this club, fucking accidents, and sniper rifles being pointed at my goddaughter. Dundee died doing what I asked him to do. That phone call from you that day will haunt me until my last day on this earth. You nearly telling me you loved me was the best and the worst all at the same time. I wanted to hear it, but I was so scared it was going to be the last thing you ever said to me. The helplessness I felt is something I never want to feel ever again.” His head fell back into the pillow, and I lost his eyes for a second as he took a deep gulp of air and then another one, and another until he had himself back under control. It didn’t escape me he was only telling me about recent events. His hot and cold attitude had been there since the first day we met. I understood his need to protect the club from Rogue, but what I didn’t understand was if he’d wanted me from the start, why did he push me away? Baby steps, Stella. He is opening up, so be grateful for that for now, I told myself.

Suddenly, we rolled and Booth loomed above me, his cock still deep in me where it belonged.

“Losing you, Stella, is not an option. I am nowhere near good enough for you, but I am done. I am too fucking selfish to risk you giving up on waiting for me to get a clue and find a good boy-next-door type. You’re mine, Honey, and I am keeping you,” he vowed.

His hips pulled back, and he was moving inside me. Finally. Oh, so slowly, but I didn’t want it slow. I wanted Booth out of control again. I wanted to hear those sexy sounds he made. Knowing that Booth liked to talk dirty to me, I swallowed the lump in my throat and stepped out of my comfort zone. If he could open up to me, I could do the same for him.

“Deeper, baby, I want to feel you deeper. I won’t break, I promise. Fuck me, baby,” I pleaded.

As I let my legs fall open wider on the bed, my hands wandered over his back and down to his oh-so-toned tight arse. Grabbing hold, I urged him to go deeper inside me. That was all it took, and Booth growled his approval at my words.

“Fucking hell, Stella,” he said, moaning as he moved to his knees. He put his hands on the inside of my thighs, holding me open as much as my legs would allow, and started to piston in and out, back and forth. My hands were gripped on his bottom, my fingers digging into the taut cheeks, helping him keep up his punishing rhythm as he ploughed into me. This was what I wanted. To unleash Booth’s passion for me, to really feel what it was like to be wanted. I wanted Vincent Booth—the one man who could take me apart and put me back together, who could destroy me with one cutting word and then give me the world with one soft touch and one burning look from those beautiful grey eyes that haunted my dreams—desperate.

It didn’t matter anymore, none of it did. All the bad was now good. As my man emptied himself inside me, taking me with him, our cries of passion and release marked a new day, and a new beginning. I was safe for the first time since my mum passed and left me alone.