Page 94 of Rebel
“It’s nothing, Kinsley.”
“Tell me what happened, River, or I’ll get dressed and walk out of here right now.”
His finger presses down hard against my clit, making me jump. I guess saying the name he gave me permission to use gets him hot.
“Is that so?”
“Just… tell me,” I squirm trying to get away, not very hard admittedly.
“A bullet grazed me.”
My mouth falls open. “You got shot.”
“Better me than you,” he says quietly, his focus intent, the skin around his eyes tightens.
He hasn’t stopped moving his finger, the pad still stroking my clit as he pushes his middle finger inside, making my back arch involuntarily.
“When you pushed me out of the way,” I whisper. “You got shot.”
He nods. “And I’d do it again.”
River doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, kissing me to stop me asking more questions. My body floods with heat, both from how he is teasing his finger in and out of me and knowing if he hadn’t jumped in the way, I might not be here.
He saved me.
I sit further forward and push him back. River is surprised enough that I manage to move him this time. Before he can ask what I’m doing, I push off the table, drop to my knees, and take his cock into my mouth in one smooth move.
It’s the first time I’ve gone down on him, and my pussy gets even wetter as he grabs the back of my head, getting fully on board with whatI’m doing. My tongue works over the veins on the underside of his cock, and I cup his balls, making him groan and squeeze his fist around the handful of hair. It stings a little on my scalp, but I don’t care.
Rebel saved my life. He cared enough to throw himself between me and a bullet. No one has ever committed such a selfless act for me. It’s not the same as family taking me in, or Colton making sure I’m happy.
This is different. This man was willing to give up his own life to make sure I didn’t lose mine.
I move with more purpose, sucking him in deeper till the tip of his cock hits the back of my throat. When he tells me to stop, I shake my head and keep going. I want his cum in my throat, I want him to know what it means to me, what he means to me.
“Kinsley,” he pulls me up, and I swear ferociously at him, making him grin. “Turn, now.”
“No, I want to finish.”
“Later. Turn and bend over the fucking table so I can fuck you hard enough to break it.”
Oh damn. What else can I do but what he says? I claw my nails into the surface of the wood as he pushes inside me and does what he said he would.
Except for breaking the table, that thing is as indestructible as a Blackhawk Disciples shirt.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rebel
It is possible to fracture your cock?
It’s not helping that Kinsley just walked down the stairs, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail, wearing tight jeans and a black shirt that doesn’t quite reach her waist. She finishes the look with that hot as fuck red leather jacket. I’d cleaned it for her last night because she’d been mumbling about throwing it away.
Patrick is lucky I wasn’t around when he gathered some of her clothes before the cops shut it down. I’d smack the shit out of him for touching her things.
We spent hours fucking all over the loft. Upstairs, downstairs, in the shower. Up against the wall of windows overlooking the street.
It made Kinsley wilder, knowing someone might see her pressed against the window as I knelt behind her and tongue-fucked her.
