Beneath Your Beautiful, page 23
“I am.”
“How’s your hand?”
I stretch my fingers and wiggle them. “No damage.”
“You’ve got one hell of a left hook.”
“So I’ve been told.”
He hands me my clutch I’d left inside, and after a quick goodbye to Sam and Amalee, we are on our way home. I resist the urge to squirm, and I definitely don’t turn on the vibrator. I’m already struggling to remember the reasons why I shouldn’t allow a man to touch me, especially not one like Fox who entertains my demons with a dare.
He turns up the music. I close my eyes and groan as the seat vibrates under me, causing the butt plug to wiggle. Oh my God. My hands grip the sides of the leather chair. Can I come from this? Fox’s large warm hand curves around the inside of my thigh, just like he did at the grill. My head knocks back against the seat, and I widen my legs, both hoping and terrified that he’ll go higher. He does, but not enough to give me any friction. I could solve this right now and click the switch on the remote. I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’ll come in thirty seconds flat and that’s thanks to him and the very clever challenge he laid at my feet.
He turns down the music using the button on the steering wheel so he doesn’t have to let go of my leg. It’s like he’s afraid of breaking the spell he’s woven over me. He needn’t worry; it would take a disaster to stop this freight train. I try to stay calm as I accept that Fox is probably going to see me come tonight. I’m not ready for more, though. The icy fear of being that vulnerable to anyone creeps up my spine, squashing the need that’s been riding me hard all night.
“I can feel how hot you are from here,” he mutters. “I’m so tempted to pull over and taste you on the hood of my car right now.”
I shake my head. “No, not here.” Out in the open where anyone could catch us? Is he insane?
He jerks his head at me. “Not here?”
Ah, he caught that. I keep silent. He steps on the brakes and stops in the middle of the road.
“What are you doing?” I stutter.
“Answer the question.”
“You heard me clearly.”
“I want you to expand on it.”
“I don’t want to be half naked outside when I come for the first time in months.”
He huffs and restarts the car, driving a little faster while keeping a firm grip on my thigh. I wrestle with my thoughts, torn between locking myself in my room and stripping myself bare and begging him to help me finish. If I’m honest, the second I decided to wear this dress, the moment I accepted his naughty challenge, I was lining myself up to be on his menu tonight. What’s the harm? It’s just a little fun, right? In less than a month, I’ll be gone. Fox doesn’t seem the type of man to get attached. Of course, that means I have to control the darkness in me that wants to recoil from anyone more physically powerful than me—which is pretty much everybody.
“Are you getting out?” he asks.
I blink, finding us parked in the garage with Fox looking at me weirdly.
I fling the car door open and edge around the property to the pool house. My hands wring together as I decide whether to jump and hope like hell he’s strong enough to catch me. I survived Gideon, but I won’t be able to put myself together if the first man I give my trust to breaks it into pieces. My psyche is woven together with a fine web. I’m not strong enough to take a punch, which is why I should forget this night, forget the desire he stirs within me, and forget how my body responds to him. I fling open the door and make it three steps toward my bedroom before he wraps an arm around my waist and anchors me to him.
“Where are you going, firecracker?” he whispers as the front door slams behind us.
“I need a drink,” I grumble. My voice is raspy, which gives some credibility to my declaration. He walks with me to the kitchen and releases me. I quickly grab a glass as he turns a parcel left on the countertop toward him.
“I didn’t order anything,” he mutters.
“You did, but I’m wearing it,” I taunt.
His heated gaze sweeps over me before he tears open the box and pulls out some tissue paper. He freezes, his gaze flicking to me as his brows lower.
“What are you wearing?” he snaps.
I gulp a little of the water and concentrate on not choking. “The red dress you bought me and the pink and black as requested.”
He plucks two scraps of black and pink silk and lace from the box and holds them between us. “Don’t lie to me.”
I choke on the water and hammer my chest. Fuck, fuckety, fuck. I’m fucked. “Take the dress off,” he demands.
I shake my head and back into the counter opposite him. He drops the underwear he thought I was wearing and prowls toward me. He grabs my abandoned clutch and tears free the remote control before crowding me against the hard surface. His hands wrap around my thighs, lifts me onto the kitchen counter, and shoves himself between my legs. My hands land on his shoulders, but I don’t push him away.
He leans his forehead against mine, his chest rising and falling in time with my own rapid rhythm. “If I press this, are you going to squirm?” I gulp but stay silent. A little voice shouts mayday, mayday… but a bigger one says fuck it. “If you aren’t going to answer, then I’m going to test it.”
My eyes stay locked on his. “Do it.”
He growls in both annoyance and challenge. He clicks the button, and in the silence of the house, the soft yet unmistakable vibrations can be heard. My legs tighten around his hips as I try dragging him closer. He turns it off, and I slump against the wall behind me. “Don’t tease.”
“What was black?”
Umm. I give him my best confused look. He doesn’t buy it. “The mini bullet vibrator is pink.”
“Yes,” I agree.
“So what’s black?”
“Don’t make me say it,” I utter.
“I can do this all night,” he says as he clicks the button. I arch my back and groan as everything clenches inside me. He turns it off, leaving me a panting mess. He does this twice more, until I’m on the verge of sobbing.
“It’s the butt plug,” I shout.
“You’re not only wearing a vibrator that you gave me control of the entire night, but a butt plug too?”
“Yes.”
“Fucking hell. This night would have gone so differently.”
“How?”
“We would have never fucking left the house, for a start.”
“I thought that was part of the fun?”
“It’s only fun if both parties are aware.”
“How was I meant to know you’d bought sexy lingerie for me? It wasn’t in the box.”
He shakes his head. “I need a do over of this entire situation.”
“Well, I’m not going back out, so you can forget it.”
My passion cools, and I try to wiggle away from him, but I end up grinding myself against his erection. He hisses and grabs my hands before pinning them behind my back.
“I want my truth,” he says.
“Haven’t you had enough for one day?” I snap.
“I want to watch your eyes as you come.”
My brows furrow. How is that a truth? He stares down at me with an air of expectation, his large body crowding me, making me feel utterly vulnerable again. But I’m also not fighting the situation as hard as I thought I would, so that’s progress. I release a breath and utter, “Fine.”
“Your real eyes.”
Oh. I blink at him and wet my lips, not all that surprised he knows I’m wearing colored contacts. I’m due for them to be changed tomorrow anyway.
“Let my hands go,” I instruct. He pauses, and I roll my eyes. “I can’t just make them dissolve.” He releases my wrists, and I take out the contacts, dropping them into the sink beside us before turning back to face him.
“Holy fuck,” he mutters as he takes in my eyes’ two different colors. The left is gray with flecks of blue, while the right is a startling blue with flecks of gray that almost make my eyes look violet. They are memorable, which is why I conceal them.
He cups my face and lays a soft kiss on my mouth. “Thank you for trusting me with that. Here, in the safety of this house, shed the layers you use to protect yourself. I want as much of the real you as I can get.”
My eyes flutter closed as he kisses me deeply and brings that raging need back full force. My hands wander up the inside of his white shirt and trace the muscles of his back. He’s so utterly powerful and could break me with a careless snap. But that’s the beauty of Fox—he’s purposeful and deliberate in every movement, but that power is being utilized to stoke my desire, not control it. His hands drag the hem of my dress up to bunch at my waist, and his thumbs trace circles on my hips, just under my panties.
“Can I touch you?” he murmurs against my lips.
“Yes.”
He sucks in a breath and takes a step back to look me over. His eyes darken as he takes in the red silk encasing my pussy.
“Remove your dress,” he demands, but I don’t move. “Now, Cleo, before I tear it off you, and it can’t be worn again.” I grab the hem and pull it over my head. He closes his eyes for a brief second, and when he opens them, I find demons stalking his gaze to rival my own, but they don’t scare me.
“Tell me to stop at any point and I will, okay?”
He unbuttons his jeans, and panic wells inside of me as I dart my gaze from his underwear to his face. “I’m not—” I start.
“I know, firecracker. I know you aren’t ready for that—yet. But I need a bit of fucking relief. I’ve been hard for hours.” He closes the distance and winds a hand in my hair before fisting it and snapping my head back to look at him. “This isn’t going any further unless you tell me you understand that the word stop will make everything cease no matter what we are doing or how far gone I am. I will always stop.”
“I understand.”
“Good girl,” he mutters before covering my mouth with his. This kiss isn’t like any other he’s given me, any other I’ve ever experienced. It’s both frantic and controlled, needy and insistent, and it’s fucking devastating. I go pliant in his arms as he takes down another brick in this carefully built wall I’ve erected around myself.
He leaves my mouth and scrapes his teeth down the column of my throat, making me shudder and squirm in his arms. His mouth closes around my silk-covered nipple, the heat making me squirm as my hands dive into his hair and yank on the strands. He growls his approval against my breast, and I suddenly need to have that growl against my core.
“Fox, please,” I whisper.
He nips at my nipple, making me almost lose it right there. He unclips my bra’s front fastening, his hand cupping and squeezing, forcing more of it into his mouth. He pinches my other nipple at the same time his teeth clamp down. Pleasure and pain shoot between my legs, making me curse. He handles me like I’m precious, but at the same time, like he wants to devour me.
His mouth trails down over my belly until he reaches the waistband on my panties, and he spends an infuriating minute brushing his tongue along the edge. The vibrations come back on for a few seconds, and my eyes snap open, finding a grinning Fox kneeling on the floor between my legs.
“Don’t take your eyes off me, firecracker. Stay with me, okay?” I drag my swollen bottom lip between my teeth and nod. “Good girl.” I never understood the hype about those two words until this moment.
His fingers hook into the sides of my panties, and he pauses a beat to gauge if I’m okay. I give a small nod of encouragement, and he tears them off my body, catching the vibrator in his hand before dropping it in the sink. He grasps my calves and folds my legs back so the edge of my heels rest on the edge of the counter.
“Put your hands where mine are, and don’t let go.” I grab my calves, and it forces my hips to tilt, opening me up even more. “You want this out or in?” he asks, tapping against the handle of the plug.
“In, I think.”
“Have you had anal sex before?” I shake my head, and he swipes a hand over his face. “Have you had anything in there before tonight?”
“No,” I whisper.
He squeezes his eyes closed, and my legs slide together as I wonder what the hell I’m doing thinking even for a second that I could be enough for someone like Fox.
“What are you doing?” he asks, placing his hands on my thighs and keeping me pinned open.
“I thought you wanted to stop.”
“Did I say stop?”
“No.”
“Did you say stop?”
“No, but you looked disappointed when you realized I might not be as adventurous as you hoped.”
He rises and covers my front with his as one hand slides into my hair and the other grips my chin. “You are a fucking dream. I’m trying to not hump the counter and come in my pants like a horny teenager. You have a plug in your ass for the first time, and you are trusting me with your pleasure. I’m fucking floored by that, and I’m trying not to push you too hard, because I want nothing more than to make you scream so loud my grandmother contemplates calling the police. Not only have you not had a release in fuck knows how long, but you’ve never had one with something in your ass, meaning this is going to feel fucking amazing. I’m simply taking a moment to wonder how I got so lucky to earn that trust. So put your hands back on your calves, keep a tight hold, and enjoy the ride. Got it?”
“Got it.”
He punctuates that confession with a kiss that steals my breath before sinking to his knees. He winks at me. “You take your eyes off me and all of this stops. Understand?”
“Yes.” Honestly, I don’t want to miss a minute of this anyway. He’s a god on his knees before me looking like he’s about to worship at my altar, and that’s powerfully addictive.
He tugs on the plug, grinning evilly when I gasp. I’m fucked, so utterly fucked for this man. His thumb skirts the outside of my swollen clit, and I cry out as my hands grip my legs so tight my muscles cramp. “You’re close,” he mutters more to himself than me. No shit. I’ve been close for hours. He leans forward and blows on my oversensitive clit, making the bands inside me snap in response. “And so responsive.”
“Please, Fox.”
He groans. “You begging me is doing things to my control, Cleo. Stop.”
“But I need—”
He dips and licks from the plug to my clit, stealing my breath and causing my eyes to flutter closed. “Fuck. You taste like you smell, like coconut, peaches, and fiery sunshine.”
His movements stop. My hands tighten on my legs as my eyes flick open so I can glare at him. “I warned you–eyes on me. I want you to be fully aware of who is making your thighs shake.” He’s keeping me grounded. This man…I’m done.
He leans forward and traces lazy circles around my clit with his tongue. My spine arches, and my muscles pull taut in anticipation. “Ready?”
“I was ready hours ago,” I mutter the truth.
He chuckles before he closes his lips over my clit and uses his hand to twist the plug, causing friction. Then he sucks, and every nerve ending explodes as he growls against me. Months of frustration, of thinking I’m broken beyond repair fly out of my mind and are replaced with pleasure I’m not sure I’ll recover from. A scream tears from my throat and it’s like I’m being reborn back into my own skin, one that Gideon never touched.
I float on a relentless rising tide that will surely drown me when it breaks. Oh, but what a way to go.
“I need another one, Cleo. Give me another one,” Fox rumbles.
“I can’t—”
He manipulates my throbbing clit between his teeth and nibbles while his fingers sweep through my release and press inside. Ice coats my veins, dousing my passion. I release my legs and squirm away from him.
“Stop,” I shout. He jerks back.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just not inside.”
He tilts his head, his eyes widening. “Cleo Williams, are you a fucking virgin?” I slide from the counter and trip over his leg before catching my arm on the counter in my haste to escape. “Cleo, wait.”
I dive into my bedroom and slam the chair under the handle before bursting into tears of frustration. Not only am I broken, but I’m also a fucking mess.
CHAPTER 33
FOX
For her, I will relinquish control.
Iblink at the empty space before me for a minute. She’s not a virgin, right? It wouldn’t make sense, not with having an abusive husband. I’m pretty sure that, among other things, he subjected her to rape.
I swipe a hand down my face, my fingers still coated in the addictive taste of Cleo. No, she doesn’t get to hide after falling apart on my tongue. I turn and storm to her door, hammering a knock and getting no response.
“Cleo, come out, we need to talk about this.” Silence. She’s spinning inside her own mind, and I can’t stand the thought of her sinking into the trauma because of something I did.
I twist the handle, but the door doesn’t budge. There’s no lock on this door, meaning she’s wedged something under the handle. Sorry, firecracker, that won’t keep me out. I slam my shoulder into the door, and it gives straight away. The frame splinters, and I climb over the remnants of the chair and scan the room. Finding it empty, I fling open the door to the bathroom. She’s not there either. I drop down to the floor and look under the bed. Nope. The window isn’t large enough to climb through.
A tiny sob echoes off the wall, the sound full of anguish and heartbreak. I slide open the closet door, finding Cleo with her knees curled up to her chest as she rocks herself. Her eyes are open but she’s not here with me; she’s reliving something horrific. I swallow the knot of anxiety and reach out to grab the comforter off the bed before draping it around her shoulders and covering her up.
I drop to my ass in front of her and tangle one of my hands with hers. Those pretty gray and blue eyes look straight through me as tears stream down her flushed cheeks. I give her a few minutes, allowing her memories to play out. Trying to interrupt them can cause even bigger problems, and in this state, she might cast me as her villain.
