Thirteen (Love by Numbers Book 4) (23 page)

“H
e said I repulsed him, that I made him feel physically sick.”

Hearing those words come out of Lilah’s mouth and seeing the self-loathing, the doubt in herself and her embarrassment at sharing what she had endured, tore me up inside. I wanted to kill him; I wanted to make him feel every ounce of hurt that he ever inflicted on her, but I wanted to soothe her pain more.

This girl, this beautiful, spunky, unique girl, needs to see what I see when I look at her. So instead of getting angry, I kiss her.

I kiss her until my lungs scream for air and then I lay softer kisses over every inch of her body until I get to her legs.

I trail both hands over her hips and down her thighs, my left hand continues its journey to her knee, then her shin, while my right hand caresses the skin just above her prosthetic. Back and fore, back and fore. Letting her know that this part of her doesn’t disgust me.

“I’ll just… take her off; you don’t have to…” Her voice is soft, but the tremor in it is unmistakable.

“I don’t have to, but I
want
to.” I keep up the gentle stroke of my fingers and lift my eyes to hers. “Show me all of you, Lilah. Let me love all of you.”

She holds my gaze for a beat, then pulls herself up to a sitting position and with shaky hands begins to remove the part of her she calls ‘Ally-tastic’.

I don’t watch the movements of her hands; I watch her face. I notice the tremble of her lower lip as she finds the strength to bare herself to me.

When her eyes lock with mine, she leans over the side of the bed and props Ally-tastic against the wall, before slowly rising back into her sitting position.

“Take off your shirt.” My words are hoarse, the tone in my voice betraying how in control I am.

My beautiful, brave girl blinks once slowly then reaches her hands down to the hem of her white t-shirt, before peeling it up her body and exposing more of her milky white skin. I track its movements, my eyes first devouring the soft roundness of her stomach and her cute little ‘outy’ button, then her ribs, until she finally pulls it up over her head. I swear my eyes bug out when I see her perfect, full tits, encased in simple white cotton. No lace, no frills, just soft, heaving bosoms, all but spilling out of the most basic, yet sexiest bra I have ever seen.

I mutter out a curse; I’m trying to go slow and worship her, but my cock is screaming at me just to take her. I’m so consumed by her that my usual body image issues, or should I say
Davidson
issues, haven’t even entered my head. My dick is rock hard and begging to be let loose and when she reaches around her back and undoes the clasp of her bra, I all but come in my pants like a pimply teenager getting his first taste of a cock film.

Her full, firm tits are topped with rosy pink nipples, a smattering of freckles across the tops of her breasts are like little crumbs that my tongue wants to trace. “Fuck me; your tits are divine.”

Yes, I said that out loud, the reason I know I did is because Lilah lets out a little snort and I drag my eyes away from the prize to see her smiling face, flushed with arousal but more confident than I have ever seen her.

“Fuck me; you’re beautiful. Take off your skirt. I want to see if you have little cotton knickers on that match that sex-errific bra.”

Her blush deepens further, “I’m not sure there is anything sexy about my underwear, and my knickers are bigger than
Bridget Jones’
granny pants.”

“I don’t know who she is, and I’m not interested in seeing
her
knickers. So, take off that long skirt, Bunny Girl and show me yours.”

Her hands shake as they unbutton the side of her skirt and slide down the zip, my eyes leave hers to track the movement and I watch as she hesitantly hooks her fingers in the waist and slowly pushes the fabric down her body. At the first glimpse of matching white cotton, I fist my hands at my sides, eager to take over and strip her bare. My mouth waters, wondering what she tastes like, wanting, no
needing
to slide my tongue over the soft cotton and then slip it beneath.

Lower and lower, her hands work her skirt, and she lifts her arse up a little to shimmy the fabric further down her thighs. Then she stops. Her hands are trembling so much that I have to reach out and still them.

“Don’t.” I hold her shaking fists in mine, before prising the fabric from her grasp. “Don’t hide from me, Lilah.”

She slowly uncurls her fingers, and I resume the removal of her skirt.

Her thighs are firm, encased in silky smooth, pale skin. One side of her skirt falls away around mid-thigh, revealing the part of her that she has tried so hard to keep hidden. The part of her that her prick of an ex tried to use to humiliate her. The recent surgery has left the skin looking sore and pinkish red, and I react without over thinking. My left hand continues to pull the skirt from her other leg while my right delicately brushes the skin above her new scars.

Scars that show just what a fighter my girl is. They don’t make her weak; they make her the strongest person I’ve ever met, stronger than me and my worries over some fake balls, stronger than any woman I’ve ever been lucky enough to undress and in turn, they make her the sexiest woman I’ve ever undressed.

I continue the movement of my fingertips against her skin but raise my eyes to hers. Her brown orbs penetrate me, they overflow with a mixture of anxiety, shame but also desire.

“You’re perfect.” I lean forward and kiss her belly button. “Beautiful.” Another kiss just below on the curve of her belly. “Strong,” I dip my head lower, trailing my mouth over the top of her white knickers, “soft,” I go lower again, my nose grazing her clit as my mouth kisses directly over her soft flesh, and I breathe in deeply, “and intoxicating.”

Her whole body trembles and I can’t help but smile against her, “I’m going to taste you now, Lilah. Then I’m going to make you mine.”

I take a long, languid lick right up her centre and lean back slightly to observe my handy work. I blow softly on the damp fabric and elicit a deep moan from Lilah followed by her arching her back, as she tries to place herself closer to my mouth. I lie down on my stomach and use my shoulders to part her legs while my fingers ghost over the damp cotton, and when she’s writhing about, almost uncontrollably, I drag the fabric to one side and replace my fingers with my tongue. She moans loudly, and I feel her body vibrate against my lips as I feast on her, her thighs tightening against my head, holding me in place. I resist the urge to rub my aching Davidson against the mattress. I fear one hump against the firm surface, and I’ll blow my load. Her taste on my lips is addicting, but it’s the knowledge that I’m making her come undone that has pre-cum dampening my boxers.

“I. Need. You.” Her words are spoken between panting breaths. “Inside, please, Harry. I want you inside me.”

She doesn’t have to beg twice.

My jeans and underwear are off in a flash, and I tug my t-shirt over my head before diving back down for one last lick that sends her hips bucking up from the bed.

I have my cock suited up, and I’m plunging into her tight, warm heat before her lower back even hits the mattress. It’s almost too much, and I tighten my fist around the base of my Davidson, begging him to calm the fuck down.

“
Fuuccckk.”
I still, looking down over the expanse of her creamy flesh, just begging for my touch. “You feel too good.”

Her nerves have evaporated, only lust remains, the evidence of which is plastered across her face with a smile that says ‘Fuck me, now.’

I’ve not been inside a woman for a long time; I’ve missed the feeling of velvet heat gripping my cock while my fake but eager balls rest against soft flesh. Add this to the fact that I’m inside not just any woman, but Bunny Girl, and I’m about to go off like a rocket.

Calm yourself down, H. Slow and steady wins the race.

I mentally repeat this mantra as I pull out before sliding all the way back in.

My eyes are mesmerised by the sight of us becoming one; of my rock hard cock, glistening with the evidence of her arousal. I give myself another mental slap before I lose it and pound into her like a rutting dog.

A breathy chuckle snaps my eyes from where we join, back up to her face. Her cheeks are flushed with desire, her eyes heavy-lidded, but her mouth is turned up in a smirk. “Pound into me Harry. I don’t want slow and steady; I want rough, hard and fast. I want to make you lose yourself in me, just like I feel lost in you.”

My hips still, my cock twitching with the urge to do just what she said, I open my mouth to speak, but she stops me. “Yes, you said it all out loud, and yes, I want to be fucked. So please, don’t make me beg.”

I slide back into her slowly, just to torment her and to take the focus off me as I can feel my cheeks burning up. My bloody mouth has got me into enough trouble.

“Your bloody mouth is wicked but
never
trouble. Now, keep your promise, Harry David Brown and make me yours.” She gives me a shy but still filthy smile that runs through my veins and pools in my already eager cock, and I look down between her legs to watch as I withdraw once more.

“You’re already mine.”

The words leave my mouth, and I finally let go. Thrusting back in and silencing any more words from her pretty lips or my wandering tongue.

The only sounds left between us are laboured breaths, deep moans and the slapping of my skin against hers as I take what is now mine.

As she gives me all that she is.

As we share what we both have.

Two halves that seem broken but together repair.

T
angled limbs, sweat-slicked skin, my Bunny Girl in my arms, her back pressed to my front and my arm wrapped around her waist holding her to me; this is my new version of heaven.

There is no doubt that the girl in my arms belongs there. She belongs in my embrace. I tighten my hold on her as she drifts off. Questions rush through my mind about everything that’s happened today, about where we go from here, of how I can keep her, always. I take one last look at her slumbering form and realise she is not a question, with her there are no shortcomings or doubts. She is my answer and the questions all fade away.

A
soft snore from behind me, a firm blanket of heat covering me and a tight arm across my belly, inform me that Harry and I lie in the same position as we fell asleep.

Contentment is like a soft blanket, covering me up and encouraging me to slumber more, but today is the day I put right one man’s wrongs.

I can’t afford to stay cocooned, shut off from reality in the strong arms of the man still sleeping behind me. I need to be alert, prepared and ready to spill my guts and make sure Wayne isn’t around to do any further damage to the people I love.

Last night Harry worshipped me. He adored my body and left no part of me untouched. He didn’t ignore my stump, didn’t recoil from my scarred flesh, nor did he make me feel like it was anything to be ashamed of. He made love to every inch of me and now I feel stronger than ever before.

He gave me something back with his love-making; he fucked me like I wasn’t broken, but an irresistible, sexy and desired woman that he couldn’t keep his hands and tongue off, or his hard cock out of.

It was an experience like I’ve never had before.

I feel emboldened.