Broken Wings (Dark Legacy #1)

“You play and sing beautifully,” I said softly, the darkness holding us in its cocoon.

His gaze stripped me of thought, and I stared like there was nothing else in the world but Beck. His hands stilled, and the guitar was slowly lowered down to rest on the wall next to him. He leaned back in his chair, that amazing, sexy-ass, inherently Beck pose. All of his delicious ink was on display and it pulled me from the bed like a magnet. My legs were steady as I crossed to him, clad in nothing but panties and one of his shirts which reached mid-thigh on me.

Standing before him, I held my breath as he reached out for me. His hands ran up my sides under the shirt, until he reached my breasts, cupping them and squeezing ever so slightly. My breath escaped in a hissing sigh as his thumbs caressed my nipples until they were hard aching peaks. I arched closer to him, my center aching as I desperately sought some sort of release.

“Are you feeling okay?” he rumbled, his head already lowering as he captured a taut nipple in his mouth, through the cotton shirt. I groaned, threading my fingers in his hair to hold him there. I never wanted him to stop what he was doing. When he eventually lifted his head the obvious wet spot there sent more swirls of arousal through me. “Riley?”

“Huh?” I blinked down at him, searching my sex-fuzzed brain for what he’d just asked but coming up blank.

“Your head,” he elaborated with a slow, seductive smile—that bastard knew exactly what effect he was having on me. “Is your head still hurting? Because I can…” He trailed off, his brow creasing with a slight frown, and my eyes widened.

“You’re not stopping!” I snapped, a little more desperately than I’d intended. “I mean, ah, apparently orgasms are the best form of natural painkiller. So technically…” I trailed off with a sneaky grin. Silently, I begged him to return to what he’d been doing a second ago, and thankfully he took the hint with a slow, smug smile of his own.

Beck’s hands explored my bare skin, pushing up my borrowed shirt and allowing his mouth unhindered access to my sensitive nipples. My fingers tightened in his hair, my breathing quick as he slipped one hand down the front of my panties and stroked me in time to his tongue on my breast.

It took all of my self-control—all of it—not to scream in ecstasy as he played my body as skillfully as he’d played the guitar. Strong, sure fingers sent my body into a frenzy, and when I couldn’t handle it any longer, I tightened my hold in his hair and pulled his head back from my breast. All so I could slide into his lap, leaving nothing but thin fabric between us as I pressed against him.

Beck hooked his thumbs into the sides of my panties and tore them clean off, leaving me spread bare as I straddled him.

A husky laugh left me. “You’re hell on a girl’s wardrobe, Sebastian.”

He didn’t comment, his expression serious and guarded as he lifted the bunched up shirt over my head, leaving me completely naked in his lap. The emotion from his music seemed to linger in the air as he kissed me with tenderness. He touched me, those huge palms of his sliding across my body, until I was nothing more than nerve endings filled with pleasure.

Beck had never been this way with me before. It felt more serious, like more than just sex. This was … reverence. Love?

I balked as that four letter L word skittered across my mind, and pulled back from Beck’s way too gentle kiss.

“What?” he asked. His bottomless gray eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Uh,” I hedged, not wanting to admit the thought that I’d just had. “Nothing, I just… remembered I forgot to call Dante earlier. He’s probably freaking out if he spoke to Eddy.” I shifted as if to get up, but Beck’s strong hand on my waist held me still.

“Hold up,” he said with an edge of incredulity. “You’re naked, in my lap, my fingers literally inside you, but you’re thinking about Dante?” His index and middle fingers moved slightly to emphasize his point, and I groaned—both in pleasure and because I instantly regretted my change of subject.

“God no,” I hissed, tilting my hips forward a bit to encourage him into continuing.

Beck made a self-satisfied noise. “I figured as much. You’re a terrible liar, Butterfly.”

Giving up on my minor panic attack, I relaxed back into him and pressed my lips to his neck. “Are we chatting or fucking, Sebastian?”

“We’re doing whatever I damn well want, Butterfly,” he informed me. “Because I’m the oldest successor to this company and that means I own you.” His voice was rough with desire even as he tried to maintain his King Shit demeanor. I’d never admit it to him, but the controlling Lord-of-everything bullshit was a stupid massive turn on for me, and my pussy tightened around his fingers.

An evil smile danced across my lips as I slid off his lap and onto my knees in front of him.

“Oh yeah?” I challenged, my fingers peeling back the elastic of his boxers and revealing Beck’s impressive erection. “Give me five minutes and we’ll reassess who owns whom.”

In all honesty, I was not some sort of blow job goddess with superior sucking powers. I was, however, scarily in tune with Beck’s subtle mood shifts, his body language, his breathing patterns. These were the things that mattered, and I put them to use as my lips closed over the silken head of his cock.

“Fuck,” Beck groaned after a short time. His fingers were tangled in my wild hair, and his grip was guiding me at a pace that seemed to be driving him into madness. “Okay, fine,” he growled, pulling me up before I could get him to come. His hands left my hair, and he grabbed me by the waist, lifting me up as he stood and then dropping me onto my back on his bed. “You win.”

He deftly produced a condom from what seemed to be thin air and rolled it on with practiced ease. Fucking man-whore.

I watched Beck with heavy lidded eyes as he stood at the edge of the raised bed platform. He grinned, confident, then grabbed my ankles and pulled me toward him so that my butt was on the edge and my legs were free to wrap around his waist.

“Win what?” I asked, wrinkling my nose in confusion and significantly more interested in watching him position his hard, throbbing cock at my entrance.

His mouth curved in a half grin, and he gave a tiny head shake. “Nothing, never mind.”

Before I could question him further, he thrust deep inside me and all coherent thoughts scattered from my brain like a cloud of startled butterflies. I cried out with pleasure, hooking my ankles together behind his back and pulling him closer. Deeper. Like I couldn’t ever get enough of this man.

Sebastian Roman Fucking Beckett.

“Shit yes,” I gasped as he thrust into me again, and again, and again, fucking me like he was made solely to pleasure me. Again, those warm, fuzzy feelings of genuine affection crept into me but this time, I let them linger. What Beck didn’t know, couldn’t hurt me. Right?

Regardless, I could blame it on the mild concussion, but for a little while as our bodies writhed and moved as one, I let myself wonder what it’d be like to be loved by Beck.

The fantasy didn’t last long, though, because I quickly realized that to love Beck would mean only pain and heartbreak. He seemed to sense the shift in my mood, too, as he unhooked my legs from around his waist and used my ankles to flip me over.

“You better not be daydreaming of anyone but me, Butterfly,” he said on a growl as he let my feet touch the ground before thrusting deep back into me. “Your first thought when you wake up, and your last when you go to sleep had better be about me, and how fucking good it feels to have my dick inside you.”