Ignite (Beneath the Blaze #2)

by Luna Mason

"Yes, beastie."

it’s too much, you tap my leg. Need me to stop quickly, slap my cut." "I won’t need to stop,"

I want to impress him. I need to hear him moan. "Good girl. Let’s test that theory, shall we? Too much talking. Not enough sucking."

look up. He’s glaring down at me, fire in his eyes. Hunger. I circle my clit. He groans, pulling out. Then thrusts in harder, deeper. I gag around him. That earns me a moan. "That was halfway, trouble. Good job."

His grip tightens in my hair. It stings. I keep fingering myself. He moves faster. Rough. Needy. "Oh. Fuck. Hallie." Tears roll down my cheeks. I moan around him, sliding two fingers inside myself. He grunts, breath ragged. "Hallie. Shit. You’re so wet for me."

I moan. He clenches. His dick keeps hitting the back of my throat, over and over. Everythin...

"Be a good little slut and come sucking my cock, trouble."

"Good. Fucking. Girl." His moans grow louder. Mine do too. He roars my name and I crash over the edge.

"You good, baby?" He strokes my cheek. "Yeah. Really good," I croak. "That was mind-blowing, trouble. So fucking good. The way I could feel you moaning around my cock? Spectacular."

"Thank you. I tried." He smiles, cheeky. "I needed that." I tell him. "An orgasm?"

"It’s been a long, long, very long time." I pause. "Well, I can give them to myself easily. But a man? Years. You broke my brokenness."

"Don’t ever say you’re broken again. You, trouble, were never the problem.

"You have someone picking you up in ten minutes." "Ten minutes is plenty. I want another taste to keep me going until next time."

"Next time?" "You promised me a whole night..."

"A one-night stand means one night, wherever it gets ...

"I don’t follow rules, trouble."

He leans in and runs his tongue along my neck. "Now, you owe me. No take backs." He kisses my jaw. Then devours my mouth. Deep. Hard. Intoxicating.

"I’ll see you soon, beautiful."

"Quickly put something on your neck, baby. I’ve left a mark. Something to remember me by."

"Look after yourself, trouble. You know how to reach me."

She’s funny as hell. A firecracker with a soft heart and a stubborn streak that makes me want to bite.

I check my phone again. Still no reply from Declan. Oh, maybe my cell is broken?

My phone pings with a text and I nearly drop it from excitement. Which soon leaves me when I see Declan’s name, not Hallie.

Who is he? Why are we looking into him?

Actually, don’t answer. My wife might stab me if I do any work this week. I’ll see you Monday.

I type fast before I lose my nerve.

It sends. Too late to take it back. I stare at the screen. Has she read it? Fuck. I shouldn’t have sent it. She’s ghosting me. She doesn’t want to see me. She didn’t even come to check my stitches.

I pace the mat, phone clutched in my fist. I feel crazy. Shit. Shit. Shit.

He did. And he made me laugh. Made me feel safe.

You seem giddy about him—don’t ignore your gut.”

And good boy for being brave having Dr. Quinn check them.

You really are trouble, aren’t you?

Maybe…

His eyes flicker. Something darker. Scary. He lunges. The door flies open, knocking me off balance as he shoves his way inside. “Listen to me!” he shouts, voice wild.

“Shut that fucking mutt up and stop being a stupid bitch. I’m giving you a way out!”

“A way out of what?”

“It’s all a game,” he mutters, yanking at his hair. “A sick and twisted game.”

“We’re playing the one where his whore ex takes him back so she doesn’t die.” My breath catches. “I’m calling the cops, Ben.”

Pain explodes across my forehead as I hit the side table. A scream tears from my throat. “Get off me!”

“I’m trying to save you! Hallie, I fucked up. I did something bad—and now I’m trying to stop it.”

“Get out or I’ll press dial. Your choice.”

“You’ll fucking regret this. Good luck, Hallie.” He storms out.

I’m not his burden.

Your not a burden girly:(

“Why doesn’t it get easier, Finn?”

“Because we loved Mom to fucking death, that’s why. You probably more than all of us. It’ll always hurt. You just… learn to live around it.”

Not sure if it’s her or the damn car—or the image of her behind the wheel, legs spread, eyes wild.

I shake my head and smirk. I’m not here for Pilates. I’m here to see her. To make sure she’s safe. And if I get to watch her ass wiggle in those tight workout leggings? Well, that’s just a bonus.

“Fuck me,” he whispers. I shoot him a look, biting back laughter. This is going to be so entertaining.

Fifteen minutes in, Conan’s dripping sweat, bright red, and trembling on all fours. “Hallie. What the hell is this?”

“Why are my muscles burning? My legs are fucking wobbly, and I don’t know if I can stand up.” His face is a...