Coming Undone (8 page)

“McKenna.”

She dropped her head before their gazes connected. She didn’t want to see the disgust he surely felt, didn’t want to see the condemnation.

He knelt before her, rubbing his huge palms up and down her numb thighs. “Goddamn it, McKenna. Why are you out here?” Worry roughened his words.

McKenna hung her head. She didn’t want him looking at her, seeing the real her, and judging.

He cupped her nape and turned her face upward. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Shit.” He swore under his breath then rose halfway and scooped her up. She couldn’t feel her arms, but McKenna lifted them anyway and circled his neck. His musk reached her nose—faint sweat, hot skin, and cologne with a hint of something spicy. He entered the house and banged the kitchen door closed. He stopped right there and placed her on her feet.

“Let’s get your boots off.”

With her propped against the door, he shrugged out of his jacket, flipped his hood off, and slid down to the floor. On his knees, he lifted first one foot, then the other, yanking off her black ankle boots and socks. Every once in awhile he’d stroke her calf or leg as if trying to warm her up. With the heat inside in full-on mode, she was already getting back feeling in her limbs, but McKenna didn’t tell him that. She liked his rough hands on her, gentle and coaxing.

When he’d removed her boots, Ren paused and looked up at her, his face tight, that one good eye searching.

He knew. He had to have seen the footage, but he didn’t speak so McKenna did it for him.

“Go on,” she urged. “Ask what you want to know.”

A muscle jumped in his scarred cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Did you see the footage from the camera in his office?”

He didn’t blink. “Yes.”

McKenna nodded. “Then you know I’m not.”

Ren flinched. “McKenna.” He stroked her thighs, his huge, warm palms sending tingles to her belly and lower still. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged away his apology. “Don’t be.”

He broke eye contact, his attention zeroing in somewhere on her middle. “Your jeans are soaked through. You should change out of them.” He didn’t budge and neither did McKenna.

“Take '
em off.”

The air around them appeared to still, frozen in place at her words. Ren didn’t look at her, his face was level with her
hip. He looked like he hadn’t taken a breath in a long while. McKenna waited, heart thumping against her ribcage in a furious beat.

Ren moved. Deft fingers unbuttoned her jeans, knuckles grazing the flat skin of her belly as he pulled the zipper down and down. McKenna tipped her head up, blinking madly at the ceiling she knew was there but couldn’t see. Ren tugged the wet jeans off her hips, leaning back when she lifted her hips to better ease the way. He was careful, gentle, but his touch, the brief connection between his skin and hers, kindled a fire that started in her center and spread rapidly.

He pulled the piece of clothing free then threw it aside. She opened her eyes when the wet, muted plop sounded, and looked down. He sat back on his haunches, heavy color spreading over his neck and face. She didn’t think he was blushing, but he didn’t look into her eyes for her to be sure. His attention was on her panties, the lace riding low on her hips. As McKenna regarded him, Ren reached out a hand and dragged his knuckles over her left hip bone.

Breath stuttered in her lungs. He touched her again, knuckles staying on her skin longer as he traced an invisible line from her hip down her thigh to her knee. Her pulse clamored, racing all at once. She opened her mouth to speak, but he chose that moment to look up at her and she found she couldn’t locate words. Instead she used her eyes, communicating her wants silently.

He must have gotten the message because his nostrils flared and he licked his lips. McKenna reached down and touched his face, the scarred side, cupping him as she stroked her thumb over the raised scars. As she held him, he leaned forward in painfully slow increments, ultimately burying his face in her crotch.

Breath escaped her in a whoosh. Oh God. His hot breath burned through her panties and sank into her skin, melting her from the inside. Need soaked her crotch and scented the air.

Please. Please.
She chanted the words in her head, too cowardly to voice them out loud. Again, he must have heard them, because he mouthed her, right there, tasting her through the underwear.

McKenna bucked.

Ren growled.

She scrambled for balance when her knees threatened to collapse, pulling on his short hair. His tongue flicked over her, over the lace. She lifted her hips in a blatant invite that he accepted by tugging her panties down and off. She barely had time to assimilate before he was back, his hot, wet mouth on her, insistent as he licked her core.

Cries left her throat with each swipe of his tongue over her clit and outer lips. His fingers dug into her skin when he raised her right leg over his shoulder. McKenna held on, clawing at his shoulders through his hoodie. Ren sucked at her, his stiffened tongue flicking over her hardened clit before he shifted lower, clamping down over her opening and sucking. The needy grunts he made fired her up, and McKenna rode his face, bucking into him, pushing him deeper when he attempted to retreat.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had someone else do for her, see to her needs. She took care of herself, brought herself to climax in the private of her bed or shower. But here Ren was, giving her what she needed without asking what that was.

Selfless with the pleasure.

That turned her on even more and cream flowed from her onto his tongue. Ren lapped it all with a groan, fingers pushing into her pussy.

“Fuck.” The word burst from her as he sank two digits deep, digging at her, ferreting out even more moisture, more heat. “Ren.” The whimpers should have embarrassed her, but not then. She threw her head back, banging it against the door, and offered herself up. She didn’t know if they’d have another chance, a second chance at this. Better make the most of it. She didn’t know what made Ren change his mind about fucking with her, but she was in no mood to question any of it.

He attacked her clit,
sending pleasure-pain shooting down to her toes, as he finger-fucked her with three digits. She was so wet, juices flowed down her thighs, the explicit sounds mingling with his grunts and her moans.

He worked her cunt over, sinking those crafty fingers deep and twisting them, pegging her spot each and every time. She clamped down around him, making her muscles contract and Ren hiss. As she watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, he removed the fingers slowly and brought them to his mouth, sucking off her cream with loud smacks of his lips.

The patch remained over his eye and she wanted to yank it off, to see all of him like she had no doubt he was seeing all of her right then. But she didn’t. Other than the sound she made eating her like a man starved for sustenance, he didn’t speak and she was good with that.

After cleaning off his fingers, Ren leaned forward again, this time positioning himself so it appeared McKenna was prone over his face. She took full advantage, grabbing on to his hair while his tongue worked its magic, dipping in and out of her pussy.

Ren inserted two fingers along with his tongue, and this time the pleasure brought tears to her eyes. Her body shook with it, violent shudders that made her teeth chatter. She sat on his face, toes grazing the floor, and rode his tongue. Up and down, gentle at first then rougher, she took him, his tongue and his fingers. He curved his digits, skating them over her spot.

“Oh. Oh God.”
Too much. Not enough. She vacillated between wanting to hold out for more and succumbing to the orgasm that burned its way through her veins. She wanted to come in his mouth, on his face, mark him in a way she’d never done. She ached all over, from her scalp to her toes, but nowhere as brightly as her cunt where he feasted. Like he never wanted to let go, never wanted to ease up.

McKenna cupped her tits, pinching the nipples with a groan. She swiveled her hips, struggling to spread her thighs wider somehow, to get him there. To keep him trapped.

“Want to come,” she whispered brokenly. “On your face, in your mouth.”

His mouth closed around her core, sucked hard, and she spasmed violently, coming undone with the press of a finger over her ass. The orgasm rushed through her, fire-hot. McKenna cried out, bucking hard. Ren held her, strong hands clamped down on her thighs, keeping her where he wanted her, over his face, in his mouth.

She shook. The hard door at her back bit into her shoulder, cutting and sharp. Sweat slid down her spine into the crack of her ass, and her heartbeat loud, deafening. McKenna couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t lift her eyelids to look down. Ren gentled his touch, wet tongue pushing through her sensitive folds with care. His fingers remained lodged deep in her pulsing cunt, flexing each time her muscles contracted.

If he wasn’t holding her tight, she’d crumble to the floor.

When her climax cooled, when her body’s tremors lessened, he removed his fingers. She murmured brokenly at the loss. He kissed her, an open-mouthed kiss above her clit, on the smooth skin of her sex.

McKenna finally opened her eyes and peered down at him. His lips were swollen and wet, her juices clinging to his chin. He had a finger in his mouth, sucking with his eye closed.

Her cunt spasmed at the sight.

“Ren.”

He raised a hooded eye to her. Lust made the green appear darker, and his cheeks were awash in red. With his finger in his mouth, he stared at her as if lost.

“Ren.” She spoke his name again, voice clearer, steadier this time.

He shuddered, need blanketing his features before he got himself under control. He got to his feet and picked her up. Holding her in his arms, he walked toward the bedroom. McKenna buried her face in his neck, lips brushing his skin.

Under her touch, his pulse kicked up in speed.

Her eyes drooped and a sigh escaped her when he placed her in the middle of the bed. Lethargy nipped at her heels, but she reached out to him, wanting to feel more.

“Ren.”

“Go to sleep, McKenna.”

How could she sleep when they had unfinished business? Firm lips bushed over hers, bringing the musk of salt and need. Sleep claimed her.

****

The loud clanking of a fire truck racing past McKenna’s bedroom window woke Ren. He jerked upright, wincing at the crick in his neck. Instead of stretching out on the couch or floor, he’d chosen to brave the night in a chair near McKenna’s bedroom door.

The noise hadn’t woken her so he took a deep breath and let it out in a rush.

Last night. He shouldn’t have made that move, shouldn’t have laid a hand on her. Not that he had. He’d used his tongue. His mouth.

His cock hardened and he fisted his hands. Her taste was unreal, cream and salt and sweet with a hint of tart, delicious the way she melted on his tongue, the way her juices flowed for him.

He really, really should not have done it, shouldn’t have come over the night before, but after viewing the video where Salim treated her as nothing more than a warm hole to sink into, he’d had to drop everything and rush over. He’d watched the video with Carter, dread and anger roiling in his gut. He’d prayed while he sat there, teeth gritted, that Salim didn’t give her to the other men in the room. He’d begged silently.

Please. Please.

When he’d achieved his selfish release, Salim had called his bodyguards
and ordered them to take McKenna home. The relief at those words had almost driven him to his knees. She didn’t deserve to be treated like nothing more than a fucking doorstop, to be considered too insignificant by someone as slimy as Salim Najal.

He’d rushed over to see McKenna, hoping to at least give her a shoulder to cry on, an available ear should she feel like talking. Instead she’d been in that backyard, rocking back and forth on the rusted swing as snow fell, so forlorn and alone. She’d looked so innocent. All he’d thought about was bringing back the fire to her eyes, the fierce strength to her face. Until he pulled those tight, wet jeans off her, he’d had no plans, but she’d stood there all glorious with her milk chocolate skin, so smooth and inviting.

He had his hands on her, her curves begging to be touched, caressed. She’d refused to look him in the eye until that first taste.

He groaned.

On the bed, McKenna shifted.

The taste of her was addictive, her cunt so tight he could see how someone like Salim would want to keep her locked down, show her off as a prize. But McKenna needed care and gentleness, things he didn’t know if he had in him to provide. She deserved to be worshipped, her body deserved to be caressed. If he could he would. Going from Salim to him would not be an upgrade, at least not by much.

He got his feet, and, after throwing one last glance at a sleeping McKenna, he made his way to the living room where he shrugged into his jacket then let himself out through the back door. His stomach growled with hunger, and he’d seen a Jamaican restaurant a block over that boasted breakfast. He’d get him and McKenna some grub and maybe they’d be able to talk, hash out some things between them.

His phone rang as he stepped
out of the restaurant. He held the food with one hand and fished the loud thing out of his back pocket. He had to remember to turn the freaking ringer down. Shit.