Belonging to You

Abigail's POV 

I didn't remember how we made it through the crowd of swaying bodies or how we stumbled into the car. Everything was a blur-laughter, the thump of bass, the weight of his hand at the small of my back.

All I remembered was the room-his hotel room perhaps. Dim lights. His breath. The sound of my heartbeat pulsing in my ears.

Our lips met before the door even closed. It wasn't gentle-it was desperate, like we had just found water in the middle of a desert. The kiss was electric and the only time we broke apart was to tug our clothes away from our bodies.

Every brush of his mouth, every drag of his fingers against my skin made the rest of the world dissolve.

He tasted like whiskey and recklessness. Like a promise I shouldn't believe but wanted to anyway.

The next thing I knew, I was tossed onto the bed with enough force to make the mattress groan. He hovered above, his gaze dark and intent-as if he was memorizing the shape of me, the way I breathed, the sound I made when he looked at me like that.

I licked my lips at the sight. His shirt was off, leaving him in just his pants. He was all flesh and muscles. All danger and sin. So delicious to look at and so irresistible to look away from.

In the low light, I caught the inky tattoo winding down his right arm, muscles flexing as he braced himself on either side of me. He looked wild. Untamed. The kind of man who carried storms in his veins.

I should have stopped him. I should have stopped myself.

But the word should had no power here.

Not tonight.

It didn't matter that I had just lost my job. It didn't matter that I had just caught my boyfriend cheating. Nothing mattered at all.

All I knew was that my body craved him. Deeply and undeniably.

"Are you just going to stand there and look all night or get to action?" I looked up at him, a knowing smirk tugging at my lips-a silent provocation.

"Just drinking you in, that's all." His eyes swept over me, sending a fire down its path.

My face and neck flushed. "I don't think I have that kind of patience."

His grin widened. "I sure would make it worth your while."

He dropped to his knees making my throat tighten, and in one swift motion, he pulled me to the edge of the bed. 

His hands gripped my thighs hard enough to leave bruises, prying them open. He lowered his face between them, close enough that I felt his breath against the thin strip of lace-the only fabric covering me from him.

He inhaled, long and deep, like he wanted to imprint my scent in his lungs. A low growl rumbled out of him, dark and primal. 

I was indeed not a patient woman. I push up on my elbows, scowling down at him. I was already squirming and whimpering, needing him to touch me.

And he did. His mouth dipped but not to where I wanted it. He kissed my lower abdomen. Kissed my inner thighs. His lips were everywhere except where I needed him to be the most. 

With a smooth move, he yanked my panties off, leaving me bare and completely naked before him.

I was already wet and dripping.

"Not such a good girl, are you?" He chuckled, his hot breath fanning my sensitized clit.

"You're going to make me beg for it, aren't-"

The last word never made it past my throat. In its stead was a loud cry of bliss as he latched onto me. I almost bucked off the bed if it wasn't for his strong hands clamping down on my hips.

He sucked hard, unrelenting and ruthless that my head spun. His tongue slid against me in long, unhurried strokes, flicking the hood piercing Luke had convinced me to get two years ago. 

Every sound I made only seemed to fuel him. He groaned into me, devouring me louder, wetter, obscenely relentless. He sucked until my vision blurred, until heat coiled so tight in my belly I thought I would snap apart.

The next thing, he pushed a finger deep inside of me. My eyes almost rolled to the back of my head at the stimulation. My hands reached for anything that could ground me-the sheets, his hair, anything at all.

He pushed in another finger, thrusting and stretching me, leaving me panting and gasping for air. I was nothing but sex and sensation, as he sucked and licked and played me with cruel precision.

"That's it," His voice rolled over me, low and gravel-thick. "Be a good girl and come for me."

That was all it took.

My entire body spasmed as my orgasm ripped through me. Wave after wave, it crashed, leaving me completely spent that all I could do was lie limply underneath him.

His throaty growl of satisfaction vibrated against me. 

"You did so good." He kissed my inner thighs and rose to his feet.

His fingers fumbled through his pockets-probably searching for a condom-and cursed under his breath when he found them empty.

"Be right back," he muttered, disappearing in the direction of the bathroom. "Stay put."

I might have, if a wave of post-orgasm clarity hadn't slammed into me.

What the hell was I doing?

*****

Christian's POV

The sound of gloves meeting flesh echoed in the boxing ring-sharp, rhythmic, grounding. It was supposed to help me focus. It usually did.

Not today.

Sweat slid down my temple, stinging my eyes, but it wasn't what was clouding my vision. I threw a lazy jab, missed the timing completely, and a second later, Miles's glove connected squarely with my jaw. Not hard enough to hurt-just enough to remind me I wasn't here.

"Jesus, Chris." Miles backed off a step, breathing heavy and sounding annoyed. "You're getting your ass handed to you and you're not even trying to stop it."

I shook my head, spitting the taste of metal from my mouth. "I'm fine."

"Yeah? You don't look it."

He was right. I had tried to convince myself that it was nothing. But it was something.

It was her.

I met her at Eclipse two weeks ago. She was clad in that fuckable dress, her lips were painted crimson red and her ginger hair was just begging to be fisted. I had everything planned out and I thought we were both on the same page. Only for me to grab a condom from the bathroom and come back out to find her...gone.

She was just gone, leaving behind only her red lace panties-the same one I've been carrying round in my pocket like a creep.

Every time I thought about her, I'd get rock hard. And guess what? It won't get up even for another woman even if she stripped naked in front of me. It was like my dick had gotten a mind of his own. I didn't even get the chance to bury it in her-

Another hit came, this one to my ribs. I could've dodged. Should've. But I didn't. Air rushed out of me in a grunt. I stumbled backward and doubled over.

"Chris!" Miles barked, dropping his gloves. "You're not even trying."

I exhaled, slow and shaky, gloves hanging uselessly at my sides. My chest heaved more from frustration than exhaustion. "Yeah, I know."

He studied me for a moment, then sighed, tugging off his headgear. "You're thinking about her again."

I didn't answer. I didn't have to. The silence said enough.

I had tried everything to get her out of my mind-boxing, working till late at night, everything. But nothing worked. I could find any other woman to fuck, but like I said, my dick has gotten a mind of its own.

"That's crazy man. You don't even know her name."

Yeah. That was crazy. 

I dragged a hand down my face, forcing myself upright again. "One more round," I muttered.

Miles gave me a skeptical look but lifted his gloves.

Maybe if I got hit hard enough, I'd finally stop seeing her every time I blinked.

Before I could step back into the ring, my phone buzzed on the bench. The sound cut through the air like a blade.

Miles leaned against the ropes, wiping sweat from his face. "Better get that before it drives us both crazy."

I walked over, unwrapping one glove with my teeth. The screen lit up, and my stomach twisted the second I saw the name.

I could've let it go to voicemail like every other time. But I didn't come back from London to keep running from this. I had to face it, no matter how much it burned.