Defiant Heart (Starlight Cove Book 1)

IT WAS STILL DARK when I tiptoed my way down the hallway to Brady’s bedroom. After our fuckfest downstairs, he’d shown me to the bathroom for a shower—without him—and then deposited me in his guest room—also without him. With a mumbled goodnight, he’d left me in there with barely a glance in my direction.

And. Well. That just wouldn’t do.

Brady had surprised me, and considering the rigidness of his personality, I’d assumed that was impossible. But hours ago when we’d gotten here and found out we’d be stuck together, it was like a light had switched on in him. And I, for one, wasn’t complaining. I’d thought sex with him would be boring and methodical. I’d never been more wrong about anything in my life, and I’d been wrong about a lot.

His bedroom door was ajar, and I took that as invitation and crept inside. Rain still pounded against the house, the random flashes of lightning exposing the space and showing me a blink of Brady in all his glory. He lay on one side of his king bed, sound asleep on his back, the sheet pooled around his waist showcasing his bare chest. And my God what a chest it was. He was broad and solid, with a soft dusting of dark hair that led straight down to the ridges of muscles on his abdomen I wanted to spend hours tracing. I’d barely even gotten to touch him during our earlier tryst, and I was none too happy about it.

The cut lines of his Adonis belt disappeared into the band of his boxer briefs, and I cursed them and the fact that I hadn’t gotten an up close and personal look at what he was packing. But considering my pussy still ached hours post-coitus, I could guess.

Three steps into the room, the floor creaked under my weight, and Brady lifted his head from the pillow, eyes snapping open and landing immediately on me. I froze, unsure whether I should continue toward him or turn on my heel and head back to the guest room and the too-big bed I’d felt lost in.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, instantly on alert even though his tone was low and gravelly from sleep. And sweet Lord, the things it did to all my good parts. When had his voice stopped irritating me and started turning me on?

“Your guest room is very nice, but I’m afraid it’s just not for me.”

He stared at me for a long moment, then dropped his head back to the pillow and sighed heavily. “Couldn’t your critique of my home wait? It’s two a.m.”

I shrugged, the neckline of Brady’s T-shirt slipping off one shoulder. “Yeah, and I’ve just been lying there this whole time, wide awake, because the bed’s too big.”

“The bed’s too big,” he repeated, his tone flat.

“Yes.” I stepped toward him, very aware of my bare legs and the lack of, well, anything beneath his shirt, and sidled up to his side of the bed. A bed, by the way, that came up to my waist. I’d need a fucking ladder just to climb into it. “You know I’m used to sleeping on a twin mattress, right? In a tiny little van? My body doesn’t know what to do with all that open space.”

“And you’re in here because…”

“Well, you’re an overgrown jackass, so I figured you probably hogged the bed, too. No doubt you’d shove me to the edge and I’d feel right at home and fall fast asleep.”

In the flash of lightning that lit the room, I swore I saw his lips twitch into a smile, but then it was gone as he studied me for several long heartbeats, his gaze drifting over my body beneath his oversized shirt, and my nipples pebbled at his scrutiny. Finally, he said, “Is this your way of getting me to fuck you again?”

Ignoring my body’s response to him and his words, I breathed out a laugh and pressed my hand to his chest, leaning down until our lips nearly touched. “No, Sheriff. You destroyed my pussy earlier, so I’ll need a bit of a break from your monster cock before we try that again.”

Though, who knew if there’d be an again. He’d shut down so quickly after coming inside me—without a condom, by the way, which had necessitated a terse conversation about test records and birth control (covered on both counts, thank God)—that I assumed it would be a resounding no. But from the way he stared up at me, the flash of lightning through the room showcasing the hunger and heat in his eyes, well…now I wasn’t so sure.

I also wasn’t so sure I’d say no to round two.

Being with Brady was a bad idea, without question. But I’d never been one to shy away from bad ideas. In fact, I tended to run toward them at full speed without thought of consequences.

Still looming over him, I lifted my head a few inches until I could no longer feel his breath on my lips. “Come on, grump. I’m tired and want some sleep. Just let me snuggle for a while. My feet aren’t that cold, and I won’t make a peep, promise. You can go back to hating me in the morning.”

One minute, he was challenging me to a staring war, and the next, he wrapped his thick arm around me and hauled me onto his bed, pulling me straight over top of him and settling me on his other side. He kept his arm around me, tucking me in close and pulling the covers over me as if it was second nature. His hand landed on my ass, tugging me against his side, and then he froze, his fingers flexing against the material hiding all my bits.

He tipped his head down to me, his breath ghosting over my hair. “You came in here with a bare pussy, but you’re still trying to tell me you weren’t aiming to get fucked, lawbreaker?”

I shifted against him, laying my head on his steel wall of a chest. My nipples tightened into hard points thanks to the heat radiating off him. Or it could’ve been how he palmed my ass like it was his hand’s designated resting spot. Or the fact that he was half naked with nothing more than a flimsy piece of cotton keeping me from seeing all his goods. Could be anything, really.

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” I said, hand flat on his stomach. And if I petted that stomach, admiring the ridges of muscles and the thin trail of hair that disappeared into his boxer briefs, well. No one could prove it. “You shoved a T-shirt at me, grunted, and then fled like your dick was on fire. If you wanted my bottom half covered, you should’ve given me a pair of boxers, too.”

He grunted, still palming my ass like a basketball. “Thought you said you wouldn’t make a peep if I let you in here.”

“Quit asking me questions, and I’ll be quiet,” I said against his chest, still trying to get comfortable. I snuggled in deeper, pressing my ice-cold feet to his shins and grinning at his answering hiss.

“Not too cold, my ass,” he mumbled under his breath. “I don’t know how the feet of one of Satan’s minions can be so fucking frigid.”

“It’s a lot warmer in hell. I’m not used to the climate change yet.” I turned my head into his chest, inhaling against his skin and closing my eyes as I took his scent deep into my lungs. It was…warm. Just warmth and salty ocean air. It was Brady, and I couldn’t deny how much I loved it.

“Did you just sniff me?”

“Did you bring me out to your murder lair? It’s awful quiet out here.”

“Keep talking, and you’ll find out,” he said, his words muffled against my hair.

“Just wondering why you live out here and not at the resort.”

“And I’m wondering why I agreed to let you in my bed and why I thought you were telling the truth when you said you wouldn’t make a peep.”

“That’s not an answer.”

His heavy exhalation gusted over my head, his chest rising and falling under my cheek. “Just couldn’t live there anymore. Not after—” He cut himself off and cleared his throat. “Well, not after. I needed a space of my own.”

It took everything in me not to ask, “After what?” and demand details about his cryptic answer. But I wasn’t in a position to demand anything from Brady. That didn’t stop my curiosity over the man, though.

I shifted and adjusted against him, trying to find a comfortable position. All the while, his hand never left my ass, the one anchor to him as I moved this way and that. In one of my adjustments, I brought my knee up to hook over his legs, inadvertently brushing against his dick. His hand tightened on my ass, but otherwise, he didn’t acknowledge it.

So I did it again, a little firmer this time as I slid my hand down his stomach to rest just above the waistband of his boxers. He was hard, his cock thick beneath my thigh, and I wanted another ride, tender pussy be damned.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, lawbreaker,” he said lowly, his lips brushing my forehead with each word.

I crawled my fingers across his stomach, dragging them back and forth along his waistband. “Those are the best kinds to play.”

His whole body was stiff. Poised. Ready to strike at any second. I’d wondered what it’d be like to have all that control unleashed on me in the heat of passion. Wondered if it’d be boring and rigid. Unremarkable. But while he’d still held the control earlier despite my fighting him tooth and nail, it’d been a completely different kind of control. One filled with passion and dominance that I was all too sure not many people saw. And the thought that I’d brought it out in him was a shot of ecstasy thrumming through my veins.

Finally, his chest rumbled beneath my cheek as he spoke. “Thought you said you were too sore.”

I did. I was. But…was I really? I was pretty sure my vagina would forgive me for using and abusing it like this, especially when I was faced with the specimen that was Brady and the tool he wielded like a goddamn pro.

Just once more. Once more wouldn’t be awful, right? Once more, where I could really get a good look at him…spend some quality one-on-one time, just me and his dick. We’d both get our rocks off, and then things between us would calm down. All that animosity would be alleviated, and we could be…friends?

“I lied.” I slipped my leg farther over his, pulling myself up to straddle his hips.

He brought his hands to my outer thighs, his fingers slipping under the fabric of his T-shirt as he stared up at me, his cock already straining against the confines of his boxers. “Thinking about doing something, then?”

“Maybe.”

The man was ripped, no doubt about that, and I felt like a wisp of a woman next to him. His body radiated power, and it was a natural high to know I could bring him to his knees. I brushed my hands over his pecs and the light dusting of hair there, sliding them up to his shoulders, then down his biceps, loving how firm and solid he was beneath me. Totally unshakable. But I’d shaken him hours ago, hadn’t I? Could I do it again?

“Just so we’re clear…” he said, slipping his hands under the shirt I wore and lifting it up and over my head, baring me to him completely. He tossed it to the floor as he reached up and cupped one of my breasts, thumbing a nipple and tugging until I gasped. “Just because you’re on top doesn’t mean you’re in charge.”

“I don’t know.” I rocked over his cock, sliding my pussy against him as I braced myself on his arms. “This feels a little like I’m in charge.”

“Does it?” He gripped my waist, hauling me up his body as if I weighed nothing until I hovered over his face, my pussy inches from his mouth. “’Cause I promise you’re not. Now, put your hands on the headboard and ride my tongue like a good girl. Gotta make sure this pussy is nice and soaked if you want to take my cock again.”

Jesus, this man had a way with words that shot straight to my clit, the traitor throbbing with anticipation and desire, knowing what awaited it if only I’d succumb. So I did what any girl who was facing the choice between being in charge or getting eaten out by Brady would do—I placed my hands on the headboard like I was told and sat on his face.

His mouth was open and waiting for me, his tongue seeking me immediately, and I tossed my head back on a moan at the first delicious touch. I’d been so wrong when I’d thought he surely wouldn’t do this because it was messy. No, Brady ate pussy like a man on death row being served his last meal. He sucked and nibbled, licked and swirled until I was a writhing, panting mess above him. Wrapping his arms around my legs, he gripped my thighs from below and devoured me.

I ground against him, using the headboard for leverage as I rocked back and forth on his face, each flash of lightning through the room illuminating us for a tiny blink of time. But no matter how far apart those flashes came, Brady’s eyes never strayed from my face. He stared up at me from between my spread thighs as he licked my clit and fucked me with his tongue, his gaze speaking of want and desire and so many promises of what tonight would bring.

When he sucked me hard between his lips and gently scraped his teeth against my clit, I came. Back bowing, I shuddered and shook over him, my thighs trembling, hands still clinging to the headboard as if they alone could anchor me when the feelings he wrung out of me sent me flying.

Aftershocks still racked my body when Brady shifted and suddenly flipped me so I lay on my back, my head at the foot of the bed as he loomed over me.

“Wait,” I said breathlessly, body still shaking through my release. “I wanted to have a chat with your dick.”

Breathing out a laugh, he shook his head. “Later.”

He braced his hands on the backs of my thighs and spread me wide, tucking my knees up to my chest. And then, without any buildup or easing the way for the monster between his legs, he drove deep inside me, stealing the air straight from my lungs.

“Fuck. Fuck.” He stared down, dividing his gaze between my face and where he disappeared inside me. His eyes were dark and angry, like he was pissed we were this perfect together in bed. “You shouldn’t feel this good.”

“Back atcha,” I attempted to say, though it came out as more of a moan than anything.

I didn’t know if it was the angle he hit, the look of blissful agony on his face, or the fact that he’d thrust into me before I’d even come down from my first orgasm, but he sent me flying again. Immediately. My body was in a tailspin as wave after wave of euphoria crashed over me.

“Oh God,” I choked out, hands gripping his forearms as he fucked me straight through my orgasm, my pussy clenching hard around him.

“Still think you’re the one in charge, pretty girl?” His head hung between his shoulders, and his fingers dug so deep into my thighs, I was sure I’d have bruises there in the morning, but I didn’t care. Didn’t care a single bit when he was making me feel this good. “I’m the one working this pussy up, making you come so hard you see stars. Remember that.”

I didn’t have it in me to argue with him. Could barely manage single syllables at this point. All I could do was hold on while he fucked me like a man possessed. Like he wanted to burrow so deep inside me, he’d never come out. Like he never wanted it to end.

“Once with you wasn’t enough,” he said, his hands still braced low on the backs of my thighs, thumbs running up and down my pussy lips as he thrust into me. “You think two’ll be the magic number? Or am I still gonna be craving your pussy when I wake up in the morning and can still taste you on my tongue?”

Before I could respond—with what, I had no idea—he pinched my clit, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, and I jerked my legs closed, the stimulation too much after coming twice in a row. “I don’t— I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “Spread those legs for me, lawbreaker, and hold on. You’re gonna be a good girl and give me another one. I want to feel your pussy squeezing me one more time.”

“No, I can’t.” I shook my head even while doing as he said. I gripped behind my knees, holding my legs tight to my chest as Brady fucked me with a single-minded focus. It didn’t matter, though. I’d never, ever come more than twice from sex. And twice was a stretch. Okay, once was a stretch, but that was what B.O.B. was for, right? “You won’t be able to make me come again.”

He stared down at me, shoulders tight and jaw clenched, looking like an angry avenging angel—or a demon sent straight from hell to tempt me. “Watch me.”

Still rolling my clit between his fingers and pumping his cock into me with slow, shallow thrusts, he palmed my lower stomach, his fingers stretching hip to hip. Then he pressed down on his next thrust, and I swore the entire fucking world could’ve exploded around me and I wouldn’t have cared.

My eyes widened, mouth dropping open on a gasp when he stroked the spot inside me. And then kept stroking it, over and over again, never losing his rhythm. This man I’d fought with for weeks and had fucked only twice had found—and exploited—what I’d only ever been able to reach with a specially designed vibrator.

“Oh shit,” I breathed, lips parted as I held my legs to my chest, spread open and waiting for him to send me where I needed to be. I split my gaze between his face, drawn in concentration, and where his cock disappeared inside me, its girth stretching me to a beautiful, pain-laced pleasure.

He let out a self-satisfied hum as my body responded to him, and he continued the slow, exquisite torture, playing my body like it was an instrument he’d studied for years. Never speeding his thrusts or increasing the pressure, even though I begged. And I did. I begged and pleaded, babbled incoherently as my orgasm built slowly inside until I could do nothing but wait for the wave to pull me under.

“Christ, you’re squeezing me so fucking tight. You’re gonna soak my cock, aren’t you, pretty girl? Gonna come all over me and prove I’m the one in charge of this pussy.”

Light burst behind my closed lids as a riptide swept me away, and I came on a choked sob, my heartbeat snuffing out every other sound in the room. The pleasure was blinding, exploding through me as my pussy pulsed with every wave that crashed over my body until I was a sated, boneless heap on the bed.

“That’s my good girl.” Brady’s groans filled my ears as soon as my heartbeat receded, and he dropped down, covering my body with his. He slipped his arm beneath me, sliding his hand up to grip my nape as he drove into me with slow, deep thrusts, his lips resting against mine. “You look so fucking beautiful coming all over my cock.”

God help me, but when he said things like that, it made me forget that we didn’t work. Didn’t make sense. That what we had was pure, carnal lust, plain and simple.

But when he held me tight and covered my mouth with his, filling me so slow and sweet, it was hard to remember all the reasons we weren’t a match. Hard to remember why we wouldn’t work. When he captured my lower lip between his, brushed his tongue against mine even as he settled deep and spilled himself inside me, he made it so easy to forget.

Through panting breaths, he kissed the corner of my mouth, my jaw, behind my ear, before pressing his face into the crook of my neck to catch his breath. And there, so soft I wasn’t sure I was supposed to hear, he mumbled, “Twice isn’t going to be nearly enough.”