Page 14 of Loving the Beast (Beauty 5)
Tears sprang to her eyes. “I need… I need…”
Her voice was too hoarse, and she didn’t know how to say it anyway. Didn’t know how to explain that she’d go insane if she didn’t come in two seconds flat.
Instead she grabbed his hand and pressed it between her legs—the move crude and telling. His expression softened with understanding.
His fingers dipped between her pussy lips, where she was impossibly slick for him. He gathered wetness and drew it up to her clit, sliding around the hard nub, making her clench her legs. It was too much, her flesh too sensitive. But at the same time she wanted him harder, faster.
He shifted to kiss her lips, the soft press a sharp contrast to the invasion of his cock. He said again, “Let me take care of you.”
He moved so that his thumb was beside her clit. It was almost a pinch—and then she was beyond thought, moaning as she came, bucking against him.
She had only just collapsed back onto the bed when the door swung open.
She squeaked in embarrassment and horror. Before she could fully process the Ice Queen at the door, Blake had thrown the sheet on her.
“Jesus,” he said.
“Don’t swear. How was I to know you would be in bed at this hour?”
There was a pause where she imagined him shaking his head. “Give us a minute, mother. Or sixty of them.”
The door closed again, and Erin remained hidden under the sheet. She knew her cheeks would be bright red. God, talk about embarrassing. That wasn’t even the kind of story she could tell people about as a joke.
Footfalls crossed the floor followed by a small sound, and she knew Blake was locking the door. The bed dipped as he sat beside her.
Finally he tugged at the sheet.
After a moment, she reluctantly peeked over the edge.
“I’m sorry. I should have locked it last night.”
“Your mom…” She trailed off, unsure of where to go with that. Obviously there were issues here. And while she wasn’t a big fan of his mother, and it didn’t seem like he was either, she didn’t want to offend him by saying the wrong thing.
“She’s always been a little… invasive. I’m just sorry I didn’t protect you better from it. I’m used to it, I’m just pissed she did it to you.”
“No, it wasn’t your fault.” And he had protected her. Now she understood why he hadn’t brought her. It wasn’t embarrassment of her like she’d feared. If anything he seemed embarrassed for her to see where he came from.
A rush of tenderness made her lower the sheet and take his hand. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Really. We’ll just get through today and leave tomorrow.”
He shook his head ruefully, looking down at his naked body. “At least now she can’t complain about not seeing enough of me.”
And when Erin laughed, she knew they would be okay.
Whatever happened, they had each other.
* * *
Blake leaned back. The antique chair whimpered under his weight, clearly ready to retire after probably seventy years of service. Everything in this house was old, from the walls themselves to the Ming vases against the wall. He remembered not sitting on this chair as a child. He remembered not touching those vases, not drawing on these walls. He’d almost grown up in a museum, learning from a young age not to touch, to move, to speak above a whisper.
Enlisting had been half about rebellion, half about finding his place in the world out of his father’s shadow. And it had blown his ideas about everything apart. Soldiers constantly moved and fought and shouted. It was the exact opposite of everything he’d known before.
He’d left the army a broken man, and the worst part, the sickest part, had been the look of veiled triumph in his parents’ eyes. That he’d set out to do something for himself, something different from what they’d wanted him to be, and he’d failed.
Rebuilding himself had been a slow painful process. Painful, because the burn scars would be there forever, always restricting his movement and sending sharp pain into his skin. Slow, because he’d fought with himself the whole way. Only when he’d met Erin, when he’d fallen in love with her, when he’d needed to be good enough for her, had he been able to step out of his own way.
The pain would never go away, not completely. And it would be a long road for him.
But he had the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen at his side, a woman so smart and kind and good that he no longer cared if he was deserving. He would keep her, and in that way, she would become the best part of him.
