Wreck Me (Corrupt Legacy Series #2)

She digs her nails into my ass, throwing her head back. Her pussy walls clench, holding me tight. “No, inside of me. Just like that. I want to feel you.”

Fuck, I love that she loses her damn mind just like me when I’m buried inside her, connecting on the most primal level.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I forget that…”

“I don’t care… nothing between us…”

This skin-on-skin sensation feels fucking spectacular. I bury my head in her neck, thrusting in and out of her—insatiable to my marrow.

My cock stretches her, filling her until she gasps for air. Passion. Lust. Madness. They create a concoction that gets me drunk on her. There’s one checkered flag I’m chasing right now: pleasing her and watching her fall apart for me.

Gripping her chin, I place my forehead on hers, needing to touch more of her as I pound that sweet pussy until I can tell she’s near. I want her to feel and want only me because God knows she’s infected my cells and is floating through my system.

When she comes, she strangles my cock so good that my vision blackens for a damn second and I almost shoot inside of her. I pull out, wanting to mark her on the outside as she marks me on the inside. Pleasure tightens my muscles as I jerk my cock in furious strokes. God damn it, nothing compares to chasing my release as I have my woman splayed out in front of me. Erupting with a groan, I paint her belly in my cum. Her eyes take in the mess I made.

“You’re mine.”

“I’m pretty sure if you could tattoo that on me, you would.”

I clean her with my shirt and say over her lips, “And I’d point at it proudly.”

“You’re crazy.”

A relaxed, intimate atmosphere surrounds us, loosening me up.

“You have no idea how crazy I am.” Especially about you.

She props herself on her elbows, tilting her head. “Then tell me.”

It was supposed to be a joke, but who am I kidding? This is her. She has an uncanny capacity to see me, even the parts I try to hide.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“So this is how you feel when I’m keeping things from you,” she says pensively.

My jaw clenches. “I don’t want you to look at me differently.” I couldn’t fucking bear that, but isn’t it her right to decide if she wants someone like me?

Split apart, I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting to hide, but there’s nowhere to go. She’s right there in every beat, every thought, every inhale.

She takes my face in her hands, and through kisses she says, “I would never.”

That’s what she does. With gentle hands, she pries me open, exposing all my vulnerabilities. Her reassurance rips apart my walls while she slips inside, bringing light that makes the darkness feel bearable.

Here goes fucking nothing.

“I suffer from a mild bipolar disorder, and my mind tends to focus on things in a way that I can’t let go. At times, it gets too hard, with all the stimuli, the mood swings, the damn thoughts, and dark episodes…”

I avert my gaze, not wanting to see her looking at me differently.

She lifts on her tiptoes and locks her arms around my neck. She kisses the side of my face, then peppers my cheek and jaw with soft kisses as she plays with the ends of my hair.

“I love you as you are. To me, you’re perfect. When you feel less, lost, or sad, I’ll be there, reminding you why you should never allow your thoughts to control you. I’ll love you for the both of us in those hard moments. Just don’t let them win. Don’t leave me.”

A sob rips from my throat, and I palm her cheeks, needing to touch her.

“I’m never letting you go. Never, ever,” I chant in the rhythm of my heart beating only for her.

Through blurry eyes, I can still detect the sadness written on her face.