The Rake (Boston Belles #4) by L.J. Shen

“Sorry, darling, but you’re far from pretty.”

She pretended to throw a jab at my chest. I caught her wrist and gave it a soft bite.

“Gorgeous, however—”

Her lips were on mine in no time, hot and wet and demanding. Her tongue slipped through mine playfully, stroking and teasing.

I tore at her clothes, ripping her hoodie from the collar, careful not to hurt her.

Her hands were all over me. Her mouth too. I didn’t want to draw a breath. To give her time to change her mind.

She was undressed before she could blink. I was still fully clothed when I propped her back against the bed base, my tongue sliding along the back of her knee, up toward her inner thigh, teasing a sensitive spot that made her entire body shiver violently.

My lips found the sweet flower between her legs, and I sucked and bit and blew on it until she came, shoving my tongue into her to feel her muscles clenching it greedily. She hissed, her eyes widening, like she remembered something. I thought it was peculiar. The way she reacted. But then she shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “Continue.”

Moving up to kissing her belly, I pressed hot kisses on both her tits, nibbling my way up her throat, to her lips.

“Devon. Please. Fuck me.”

“All in good time, Sweven.”

She reached to undo my trousers. I could feel the pearl of precum gluing my cock to the cloth of my briefs.

Belle freed my cock from the confines of my clothes and mumbled into our dirty kiss, “Say that again.”

“Say what?” I asked, sliding into her, there on the floor, finding her wet and ready for me.

“My nickname. Call me that.”

She matched the rhythm of my thrusts.

“Sweven.” I kissed her lips.

Thrust.

“Again.”

“Sweven.”

Thrust.

“Sweven. Sweven. Sweven.”

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

I plastered my forehead to hers as I drove into her faster and harder.

“I’m going to come.”

“Come inside me.” She clawed her nails into my skin, marking me, making sure Louisa knew. “I want to feel all of you.”

My grip on her tightened. Her muscles quaked as I felt my hot cum sliding into her.

We were both sweaty and spent when I rolled off of her, breathing hard and staring at the ceiling.

She was the first one to talk. “I was abused when I was a kid. To this day, nobody knows.”

My whole body tensed.

I grabbed her hand instinctively, even before I turned to look at her. I waited for more.

She continued staring at the ceiling, avoiding my gaze.

When it was obvious she wasn’t in the mood to share more than the bare bones, I tentatively asked, “Who was it?”

She smiled grimly. “The usual suspect.”

“How long did it go for?”

“I don’t remember. I was too … I don’t know, deep in denial.”

“Why’d you keep it a secret?” I propped up on my elbows. I knew before she even told me her family and friends weren’t aware of the situation.

I thought back to her awkward conversation with her father and chanted in my head, No way, no way, no bloody way. Her father did not abuse her. Because if he did, I’d have to kill him, and I was not built for prison life.

“Shit, I can’t believe I’m telling you.” She sniffed, the first tear falling down her cheek, sliding toward her ear.

I held my breath and, for the first time in my life, prayed to God. That she wouldn’t stop. That she would step out from behind those high walls she surrounded herself with, open the door, and let me in.

“I was always the tomboy, the troublemaker. I didn’t want to be the cause of yet another problem. Dumb, I know, but I was tired of being the bearer of bad news. The one who always got everyone into trouble. But at the same time, confronting him meant running the risk of everyone finding out. So I just … bottled it in. For a while, I mean. And then another thing happened …” She stopped, closing her eyes again, trying to swallow the lump in her throat and failing.

Belle wasn’t like other women. She was the type of girl who’d take her secrets to her grave. But this, already, was enough. It meant the world to me that she chose to tell me.

“The two men I trusted and loved the most turned their backs on me, each of them in his own way. This no-trusting, no-getting-attached vibe you’re getting? That’s my fuck-you to your gender, Devon. If I decide to trust again and get hurt, it’d be the end of me. This is why I keep resisting you every step of the way. Whatever you’re feeling, I feel it ten times over. But it’s not worth it for me. Either I kill my feelings or my feelings kill me.”

I brushed a thumb over her sunshine hair, tucking it behind her ear. “Darling Sweven, what’s a little death in the grand scheme of things?”

This unbearable, infuriating woman truly understood me. My quirks, my eccentric ways. Mostly, our time together was frustrating and bad. But when it was good, when the walls came down—it was the best I’d ever had.

Emmabelle turned to look at me for the first time since she started telling me her story. “Enough about me. So what made you claustrophobic, Dev? A truth for a truth. You promised to share when I gained your trust, and I think I’m there. Tell me what happened.”