It was pointless arguing with Beckham about it.
He would never see her point about his past and she would never see his. She would wait for him to tell her. She doubted she could coax it out of him sooner than that anyway. She wished he could realize that she accepted him for exactly who he was. She was already aware that he done some crazy stuff before joining the rebellion. It couldn’t be that bad. She hoped.
They stayed at the rooftop garden until Reyna could no longer feel her fingers or toes. Then Beckham insisted he return her to her room.
“So,” she said, when they finally got back, “do you have the rest of the night off?”
“A gentleman simply kisses his date good-night on the first date.”
“It’s probably a good thing that you are not a gentleman, then, isn’t it?” she teased, drawing him away from the doorway.
“It seems to be your favorite quality about me.”
“Oh no, I like the brooding, silent, self-loathing the best.”
“Perfect match for your never-ending speeches and vibrant optimism.”
“I’d say that I’m leaning more toward realism lately.”
She stripped out of the heavy jacket, gloves, scarf, hat, and thick socks, tossing them all haphazardly around her room. She was halfway pulling the giant sweater over her head when she felt Beckham’s hands on her waist. They slipped under the material of her black T-shirt and caressed her stomach. She dropped the sweater to the ground, forgotten.
“Fuck,” he growled low.
“I missed you.”
“Every day that you were gone, I was out of my mind.”
“Me too,” she whispered.
“I would have burned the city down to get to you.”
“I worried you wouldn’t.”
“It killed me not to be here when you got back. To not be here doing this.” He dropped his mouth onto hers and the kiss seared through her. “Cover be damned. Visage be damned. I wanted you and then when I finally had you, I fucked it up again.”
“Shhh,” she said, pressing a finger to his lips. “It doesn’t matter. You have me now.”
And he relented, placing a kiss on her finger. Then latching a hand around her wrist, he directed the pad of her finger into his mouth. His tongue caressed her and then gently nipped at her. He repeated this on each finger before turning her palm up and pressing a kiss into her wrist.
“Your heart rate has elevated, Little One.”
“Uh-huh,” she said desperately.
His nose connected with her wrist and he dragged it up the length of her arm. Her entire body tingled at each touch. When he reached her shoulder, he ripped the material aside and his lips touched her skin, kissing across her collarbone and up to her neck. She tilted her head for better access and felt as if she were about to float away.
The last time they had been in this position he had bitten her. And now her body was primed and waiting for that moment once again. The kisses weren’t enough. She could feel the sharp edges of his fangs and tensed as if to prepare herself. Her body thrummed in response. Not just her heart rate ratcheted up but her breathing was ragged and she shivered in his embrace.
“Becks,” she groaned.
His thumb moved up to cover the spot he had just been kissing. His eyes stared down at her, the bottomless pits of onyx so dark in the light. There was nothing but darkness in him. Nothing but the pure-blooded dominant vampire he was. And somehow…somehow, he was still stopping.
“Please.”
“I want you, Reyna. Not your blood. I don’t want to want your blood.”
“But you do.”
“I can feel the ache in my very bones. It sings to me.”
“Then why…?”
“Because if I want it like this, I won’t stop.”
The phrase was final. Delivered with an unparalleled intensity. This was the law. The line he would not cross.
“Okay,” Reyna said slowly. “We’ll figure it out.”
“There is nothing to figure out. I will not jeopardize your safety.”
“I mean that we’ll find out a way to make it safe. I accept you for who you are, Becks,” she said, threading their fingers together. “I don’t want you to hold back when we’re together.”
He grinned, a feral primal thing, wrapped his hands around the backs of her thighs, and hoisted her into the air. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”
She gasped and threw her arms around his shoulders. He slid his hands down to her ass and squeezed. And he wasn’t gentle. Her body heated at the touch and she pushed her hands up into his hair, drawing his lips to hers.
Everything slowed down to this moment. To his raw unbridled passion and the way in which his lips and hands and entire body claimed her. All she wanted was him. His taste and touch. Purely Beckham. The man that she had dreamed about for so, so long in that terrible place. She wanted to forget. Forget everything but skin on skin and breathless panting and sweet release.
Beckham didn’t hesitate. He walked them into the nearest wall. Her back collided with the hard surface and she grunted on impact. She bit her lip from the jarring movement. Blood spilled from the gash.
“Shit,” he groaned.
For a second, she thought he was going to drop her. His eyes narrowed to the tinge of red coating her lips. In his eyes, he stalked her like a predator. Ready to take what was rightfully his.
“We should stop.”
Reyna ignored him. Taste test number one. She ran her finger through her sickly sweet blood and pressed it to his lips.
“Suck.”
He groaned deep in the back of his throat at her command. Then he took her finger into his mouth and tasted her. Sweet ecstasy crossed his face.
“Reyna…”
She grabbed his face with both hands and dragged their lips together. His tongue moved across hers, reveling in her and the temptation before him.
“You will be the end of me.”
“Aren’t I just the beginning?”
“I’m already anticipating how this turns out.”
“Just enjoy the ride.”
“Do not entice me to bite you.”
“Taste me, Becks.”
He hesitated only a moment before diving back in and capturing her lip. He sucked it into his mouth, drinking the small amount of blood that fed from the unexpected cut. He pressed himself even harder against her and sighed deeply with pleasure. The sound of his own excitement sent heat straight between her legs.
He released her lip gingerly as if the thought of stopping was nearly impossible. She could see the struggle between man and monster. And knew that the man would win out.
“I’ll do anything to have you make that sound again.”
“Anything?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Slowly she dropped onto her feet. She sneaked a devious glance up at him before reaching for the belt of his jeans and pulling it free. He watched her silently as she popped the button and dragged the zipper down to the base. She ran a finger across the waistband of his black boxer briefs before reaching within and freeing his cock.
Beckham tensed only slightly. Her own body hummed with anticipation. She wrapped her hand around his shaft and pumped up and down once then twice. When he didn’t object, she pulled the jeans and boxer briefs down to his ankles and kneeled before this incredible man.
Beckham’s hand tangled in her hair as she reached for his cock once more. She hesitated, looking at the length of it. She had never been particularly good at this but she wanted Beckham to have all the pleasure she had. She wanted to make him squirm even.
“That’s right,” he said, coaxing her head forward. “Open your mouth for me, Little One.”
So much for squirming. Somehow, he managed to still be in complete control. And somehow it was even fucking hotter. If her soaked panties were any indication.
She did what he said. She opened her mouth, allowing him the access he so desired. He pressed his cock forward and entered her mouth with control and precision. Just far enough that she wasn’t gagging but almost to the brink. And still she wasn’t close to taking him all in. Her hand reached for his length as he withdrew. She palmed it in her hand as she sucked back on the head. Then he thrust forward into her, forcing her to open her mouth wider and further to compensate for him.
She moaned against the feel of him. The taste of him. When he next withdrew, she licked a drop of pre-cum off the tip and he jerked in her mouth. A smile spread on her face. Oh yes, he wanted this. He wanted her.
“More,” she moaned around his cock
His hand tightened on her hair nearly to the point of pain before he leaned deeper into her throat. Just when she thought she might not be able to breathe, he withdrew. But he did it again and again. Pushing her boundaries. Testing her limits. And all the while trying to hold on to that control she felt slipping around the edges.
He fucked her face and she enjoyed it. Maybe she should have felt shame at the task but she felt intensely erotic. She didn’t have to fumble to pleasure him and his dominance only made her body ache for more.
Once buried nearly all the way into her, he shuddered and then removed himself.
“Wait, no…”
“I want you to finish twice before me,” he insisted, helping her to her feet.
She was wobbly and her body betrayed her. If it weren’t for Beckham catching her and carrying her to the bed, she would have sunk right back down to her knees.
Beckham spread her before him. He pulled her T-shirt over her head and then reached for her own jeans. He pulled them halfway down her legs before inhaling deeply.
“Fuck,” he said, stripping her out of her jeans at an inhuman speed. “Your desire is nearly as intoxicating as your blood.”
He reached for the silky bra and unhooked it, letting her breasts spill out before him. He caressed one, kneading it in his hand and rolling the nipple across the pad of his finger. He brought the other one into his mouth. She was not half as controlled as he was. Her body writhed as his expert tongue assaulted her nipple until she could barely function. When he dragged a fang across the sensitive nub, she thought she might come right then and there. She’d never had such intense pleasure before. He played her body like a musical virtuoso. Raw technical prowess met unbridled emotion and dazzling stage presence.
“Beckham, please. Please.”
“I want all of your pleasure, Reyna. It belongs to me now. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she said breathlessly.
“Your tits are mine.”
He bit down on the other nipple. He didn’t release her until her legs were locked around his back and her body was shaking.
“All of this is mine.”
Then he kissed his way across to the space between her breasts and down, down, down slowly to her navel. His tongue dipped into her belly button.
“This ass is mine,” he growled.
His hands slipped under her body, taking each cheek in his big hands. Then he lifted her lower half up off the bed and pressed her core into his face. He dragged his nose up her soaked underwear, drawing in a deep breath.
“This pussy is all mine.”
“Yes. Dear God, fucking yes.”
He tore the thin material off of her body and buried his face in between her legs. His tongue teased her clit while his hands forced her legs wider apart. Then he slicked a finger through the wetness already coating her opening and inserted a finger into her. With her already primed, he pushed a second finger into her. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She was already on the verge of orgasm and she wanted to feel his cock pulsing inside of her while she let loose.
“Beckham, fuck me. Just fuck me,” she said, trying to sit up to pull him toward her.
But he had other plans. He used one arm to weigh down the top of her body. “Put your hands over your head and don’t move them until I tell you.”
She eeped and lay back down with her hands over her head. Thinking about keeping them up was a lesson in control she’d never had to work at. She wanted to bury her hands in his hair as he coaxed her clit into submission until her body was vibrating with an ache she was dying to unleash.
He curled his fingers inside of her body, moving them at a slower tempo to his tongue. And suddenly as both sensations hit her with the force of a moving vehicle, stars exploded in her vision. Her body convulsed, sending a shock wave from her middle all the way to her fingers and toes.
She heard a loud noise and realized as she came back to reality that it was coming from her. She had come so hard that she didn’t even know what sounds her own body was making.
Beckham released his hold on her. She felt like a puddle lying on the bed. Her limbs were Jell-O. Her brain wasn’t functioning.
“You moved your hands,” he observed with a sly smile on his face.
“I have hands?”
He laughed. A light merry thing that made her want to cling to the sound. To find a way to make all of his sounds her everyday reality. That sigh, that grunt, that laugh. Oh, she would die happy for one more laugh.
“You have hands,” he assured her. “And I would like you to get on them.”
“On my hands?” she asked, her brain slow to process.
“Hands and knees.”
He reached forward and flipped her over. She giggled as she adjusted her body to the position he had requested. Her ass was in the air. Her hands on the comforter. Her hair fanning out in front of her face. Beckham nudged her knees farther apart.
“That better?” she teased, swiveling in place.
His eyes were on her exposed lower half. They drifted up to her and he smiled. A heart-wrenching smile that knocked the breath right out of her.
Her Beckham.
Hers.
That smile.
Hers.
She wasn’t just his. Every inch of her heart, body, and soul didn’t just belong to this man—every single part of him belonged to her too.
She watched as he took his cock in his hand and aligned it with her opening. She could feel the head pressing against her. Her body clenched. It didn’t matter that she’d had one of the most mind-blowing orgasms of her life. Her body was a greedy bitch. It wanted more, more, more. Never enough of Beckham. Never enough.
“Brace yourself,” he said, placing his hand on the small of her back.
Almost before she could even comprehend what he meant, he thrust forward in one rough movement, seating himself inside of her.
“Oh fuck,” she moaned.
So full. So fucking full.
Holy shit.
She’d forgotten. Everything. Just everything. How amazing he felt. How big he was. How completely he filled her.
His hands gripped her hips, slicing past pleasure into pain and then mixing all together. If there weren’t bruise marks in the morning, she would be shocked. And she didn’t care. Couldn’t even find enough mental capacity to care. Because she wanted this—all that he had to give. The pain, the pleasure, the intensity. Nothing would ever feel as good as Beckham with his cock buried in her pussy.
Then he moved and proved her wrong.
He pulled back until the head popped out of her and then he sheathed himself once more. One more slow pull like a drag on a cigarette before the blissful exhale as he crashed back into her body. He rocked not just her entire body forward, but the bed creaked with the force of it.
She’d be lucky if she could walk tomorrow.
Or maybe she’d be lucky if she couldn’t…
He didn’t slow his pace. He drove into her over and over again. Not taking his time just connecting with her until she was face-first into the comforter, her hands gripping it in tight fists, and her body shaking with the need for a second release.
“So…close,” he got out through gritted teeth.
With another thrust, he buried himself in her and then reached to pull her up. He pressed her back against his chest, holding her tight to him. She lay her head on his shoulder as he started up again.
She felt his fangs drag across her exposed neck. She knew that if he bit her now she would completely lose it. Her orgasm would hit her and she’d probably black out. She could sense the tension between wanting to take what was his and how close he already was to release. And she still let him take complete control. Bite or no bite. This was the best fuck of her life. Beckham was the best anything in her life.
He leaned forward and she expected the bite. Anticipated it. And then he kissed her as he reached to strum her clit like a guitar.
She exploded a second time and Beckham followed, releasing her to fall back onto her hands as he emptied himself inside of her. When he was finished, he gently extracted himself. She fell into a heap on the bed and lay there panting. Her eyes drifted to where he was standing, an arm braced against one of the bedposts, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
He was magnificent. The most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She could live a thousand lifetimes and never find anyone better than the man before her.
She stood and crossed to the bathroom. After she cleaned up, she crawled back into bed. Beckham joined her a minute later. He pulled her against his chest with one hand draped across her naked torso.
“This is how I always wanted that night to go,” he confided against the shell of her ear. “What I imagined would have happened if I hadn’t lost control.”
“This is perfect.”
He kissed her ear and lapsed into silence. She lay there, her eyes drooping. She didn’t want this night to be over. She didn’t want to wake up and find that it had just been another miraculous dream. And yet she couldn’t seem to stop the exhaustion from hitting her.