She doesn't speak, just nods, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
I pull the fabric down her legs, revealing her completely. Her pussy is beautiful, her clit more swollen than I'm used to, like it's begging for attention. My hands—hands that have caused so much violence—now tremble slightly with the need to please her, to protect her, to show her there's more to life than pain.
I lower my head between her thighs, running my tongue along her folds. She squirms, biting her lower lip to hold back sounds. Fuck, she tastes amazing. Sweet and tangy and uniquely her. I can't get enough. I'm ravenous for her, my tongue licking, sucking, tasting everything she has to offer.
She arches her back, still silent except for tiny, strangled sounds.
"Don't hold back," I tell her. "These walls are soundproof. No one can hear you but me."
The permission breaks something loose in her. "Fuck!" she cries out, the word seeming to come from deep inside her, like she's been holding it back not just for minutes but for months, maybe years.
The sound drives me wild. I double my efforts, sucking her clit while sliding a finger inside her. She's tight—so fucking tight—and wet enough to tell me she wants this as much as I do. I add a second finger, curling them to find that spot that makes women see stars.
"Reaper!" Her voice breaks on my name, her thighs trembling on either side of my head.
I pull back just enough to look up at her, my beard glistening with her arousal. "Jackson," I correct her. "When we're like this, I'm Jackson."
"Jackson," she repeats, testing the name on her tongue.
I return to my task, determined to make her come on my mouth before I take her properly. She deserves that, to know this isabout her pleasure, not just mine. I work her with tongue and fingers until I feel her body tensing, her inner walls clenching around my fingers.
"Let go," I urge her. "I've got you."
She shatters with a cry that might be my name, her back arching off the bed, hands fisted in the sheets. I ease her through it, gentling my touches as she comes down from the high.
When she catches her breath, she looks at me with something like wonder. "I've never... it's never been like that."
Pride surges through me. Not the arrogant kind, but something deeper, more primal. I've given her something good to replace the bad. It's a start.
I stand, unbuckling my belt, never taking my eyes off her. "We're just getting started, sweetheart."
She watches me undress, her eyes widening slightly when my cock springs free. I'm big—I know this without ego—and for a moment I worry I might hurt her.
"We can stop," I tell her, despite every instinct screaming otherwise. "Just say the word."
She shakes her head, sitting up to pull off her shirt and bra, leaving her completely naked before me. Her body is a revelation. Curves in all the right places, skin pale from months without sunlight. Beautiful, despite the marks of her captivity still visible on her wrists, her ankles, a fading bruise on her ribs.
"I don't want to stop," she says. "I want all of you."
I join her on the bed, covering her body with mine, careful to keep most of my weight on my forearms. The feeling of her skin against mine is electric, better than any high I've ever chased.
"Tell me if I hurt you," I murmur against her lips. "Promise me."
"I promise."
I position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock sliding through her wetness. Fuck, she feels amazing already and I'm not even inside her yet. I push in slowly, just the tip, watching her face for any sign of discomfort.
Her eyes widen, her breath catching.
"More," she whispers, lifting her hips to take me deeper, “I need more.”
I sink into her inch by inch, gritting my teeth against the need to thrust hard and fast. She's so tight, so perfect around me, like she was made for me and me alone. When I'm fully inside her, I hold still, giving her time to adjust to my size.
"Okay?" I ask, my voice strained with the effort of control.
She nods, her hands finding my shoulders, nails digging in slightly. "Please move."
Chapter 8 - Evelyn
