Breaking

  Breaking

  Claire Kent

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2013 by Claire Kent. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks referenced in this work of fiction: Indiana Jones.

  Contents

  Author’s Note

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Author’s Note

  Breaking isn't a retelling of the story of Escorted. I know those retellings are popular and many readers wanted to see that, but there really wasn't any more of that story I could tell. This is a new story that's set a few months after the last scene of Escorted.

  Because I have this compulsion to be as psychologically realistic as I can, both Ander and Lori are still dealing with the issues that plagued them in Escorted. They are, however, getting better at working through them together, which is why this story can span just three days (rather than the two and a half years of Escorted!). Anyway, I wanted to add the note in the hopes everyone won't be disappointed that it's not a retelling of Escorted or a total Ander love-fest. Even with his continued issues, I hope there’s still enough of him here to love!

  One

  Ander sat on the edge of the bed for more than a minute, watching Lori sleep.

  He’d just gotten back in town, and she wasn’t expecting him for another week. He’d left the archeological dig on Santorini early.

  He could usually lose himself in work. At times, he stayed so long at the university—completely wrapped up in reading, research, or writing—that Lori had to come find him and drag him home. He’d been looking forward to this trip for a long time, since it was grant-funded research that was necessary to write his dissertation.

  But work hadn’t been enough this time. Every moment he’d spent of the last two days had been brutal, painful, torture. So finally he’d just given up and flown back to Seattle.

  Back to Lori.

  It was after one in the morning, and she was sound asleep.

  She didn’t like to sleep in pitch darkness, so a sliver of light from the bathroom illuminated the bedroom enough for him to see.

  Her dark hair spread out messily on the pillow around her face. Her eyelashes were dark too—thick against her smooth skin. Her lips were slightly parted, the sensual curve matching the line of her neck as her head turned to the side.

  She must have gotten warm because the covers were pushed down low. A strip of bare skin was visible between her white tank top and her lavender cotton pajama pants.

  His eyes rested on the soft swell her breasts, clearly visible through the thin fabric. He could see the outline of her nipples. He wanted to touch them.

  He wanted her. In so many ways.

  He needed her. Tonight more than ever.

  He loved her. But didn’t always know how.

  For so many years, he’d turned himself into nothing but a body, hiding his real self away from the world. He’d put on an attractive persona like a mask. He’d flattered and enticed and seduced until women were putty in his hands. Then he’d touched and kissed and fucked them until they felt more pleasure than they’d known was possible.

  No one else had made their bodies feel as good as he had.

  He’d given them what they wanted because he could never get what he wanted.

  Lori was sound asleep, completely unconscious of him. Completely vulnerable. He could do anything he wanted to her.

  He would never hurt her, and he would decimate anyone who tried. But he needed something tonight that he couldn’t wrap his mind around yet.

  He’d always been damaged, and love could only do so much.

  He’d been damaged again two days ago, and he was barely holding himself together.

  Right now, he was on the verge of breaking completely, and he couldn’t let that happen.

  So he’d come home. Come to their bedroom, come to their bed, to find whatever power and solace he could in Lori.

  He reached out to gently brush his fingers over her warm cheek. Then her forehead, her lips, her jaw line. He pushed a few strands of hair back from her face.

  Then he noticed the bare skin between her tank top and pajama pants. Couldn’t resist it. Reached out to caress her smooth belly. Felt it rise and fall with her steady breathing.

  His hand never stopped moving and somehow slid up to the full curve of her breasts. He fondled one delicately until the nipple peaked, and Lori released a low groan in her sleep.

  When he realized what he was doing, he pulled his hand away immediately.

  One strap of her tank top had slipped down over her shoulder, and he had an overwhelming urge to rip the strap apart at the seam.

  He wanted her to feel him, to know him, to be completely surrounded by his force, his power, his love.

  He wanted to not be broken anymore.

  Lori stirred and finally opened her eyes.

  Blinking a few times, she said hoarsely, “Hey, sweetie. What are you doing there?”

  Her first response must have been instinctive because then the situation processed in her mind. She sat up straight in bed and hurled herself at him in a hug. “Ander! What are you doing here?”

  “I came back early,” he murmured, wrapping both arms around her.

  He’d never been hugged in his life until Lori, and now he had to resist the urge to pull away. Emotion shuddered in his chest and his throat at her naked affection for him, threatening to tear him apart.

  She drew back before it did.

  She beamed as she studied his face, but she must have seen something of his mood there because her smile faded. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. We were wrapping up anyway, so I came back. I missed you.”

  “I missed you too. I’m so glad you’re home.”

  Unable to resist any longer, he took her head in his hands and kissed her.

  It became urgent very quickly, his tongue going deep, his hands sliding down to cup her ass.

  When the kiss broke, he lowered his head to her neck, mouthing the pulse in her throat until his teeth grazed her skin.

  His cock twitched when she gasped in response.

  “I guess that means you’re horny,” she said, her voice dry and controlled, although he knew her body was responding to him.

  “I think we can find a less objectionable word for my condition.”

  “No. I think horny is the right one. I’m a wordsmith, remember?”

  He almost smiled but didn’t reply. Just pushed her down onto her back until she was spread out beneath him.

  “Well, six weeks is a long time,” she said, the humor transforming into something deep and hot as she gazed up at him. “I guess horniness is to be expected.”

  On another night, he would have laughed, but tonight he slid both hands from her belly to her soft breasts.

  She arched up into his hands. “God, Ander, maybe I’m kind of horny too.”

  He leaned over so he could kiss her, and she tugged on his lower lip in a way that made him harden even more. He closed his eyes and nuzzled her gently. “Good.”

  Lori reached up to grab him by the shoulders and tried to pull him into position. “Well, what are you waiting for? It’s been forever.” Her voice was familiar, ironic, so dear.

  But it wasn’t the way he needed to hear her tonight.

  He resisted her hands and carefully pushed her back down, although she kept wriggling i
n an attempt to evade his grasp. “No, let me.”

  It was a request. They both knew it. It was as close as Ander could come to admitting what he needed from her.

  Lori grew still beneath him and met his eyes. Then her body relaxed. “Okay. Sounds good to me. I’m tired anyway, so you’ll have to do most of the work.”

  Relief overwhelmed him as he grabbed the bottom of her tank top.

  “But you know that patience isn’t one of my virtues, right?” she added dryly. “So just keep that in mind.”

  So strong. So clever. So generous and loving. She understood him better than anyone ever had.

  And God help him—tonight he wanted to make her beg.

  She lifted her arms up so he could remove her top and skate his hands over her bare skin.

  The previous stimulation had left her sensitive, so it didn’t take long before she was squirming at his touch. He slid his hands along her belly and sides, teasing the place under her arms that he knew made her shudder. Then he moved back to her breasts. Grazed over them so lightly that she pushed her chest up to get more friction.

  She’d been breathing erratically, but when he finally chaffed her nipples with his palms she released a lingering moan. He loved the sound of it—knew it was real.

  When he didn’t move away from her breasts, Lori gasped, “Ander, you’ve suitably awed me with your skills at foreplay, but I’m more than ready now.”

  “Are you?” He tweaked both nipples in simultaneous attention.

  Her hands settled on the waistband of her pants to pull them down over her hips. “Yeah. You can get down to business any time now, please.”

  Ander drew her hands away from her hips and raised them up over her head. The move stretched out her torso, and the erect, rosy peaks stood out prominently on her fair skin. “You were letting me, remember?”

  “Right. I forgot. I got excited. Go to it, then.” Her voice was mocking, but her eyes were tender—and a momentary fullness in his chest almost distracted him from what he needed tonight. She kept her arms above her head where he’d placed them and added, “Just don’t forget that there’s more to me than the chestal region.”

  He chuckled. She’d always been able to make him laugh. But a rush of something else washed over him as he gazed at her soft, strong body—somehow she’d always been both at once—stretched out beneath him.

  Ander stopped laughing and took one breast in his mouth.

  As he suckled, teasing the tight nipple with his tongue, he twirled the other one with his fingers. Lori was soon making whimpering noises. Eventually, she couldn’t keep her arms above her head, and her hands clutched at his head instead.

  He didn’t stop. Didn’t even pause to give her respite from the sensations. Finally, writhing against the bed and clawing the back of his neck, Lori panted, “Please, Ander. Can’t take any more.”

  He lifted his mouth from her skin and looked at her flushed, damp face. “You don’t like it?”

  She rolled her eyes again, getting her wits back in the break from stimulation. “You know very well that I like it, but I need a lot more than that.”

  He lowered his head again, and his tongue had barely flicked over her nipple when she twitched and cried out in sharp pleasure.

  “What do you need?” he mumbled over her skin, wanting to hear her say it.

  “I need you to touch me, but you won’t.”

  He carefully eased down her pajama pants, pushing them down her legs until she was naked except for her pale blue underwear. “I will,” he murmured. “I will.”

  Easing open her legs, he felt another deep thrill at the sight of the damp spot on the thin fabric. It still awed him that she wanted him so much. Not just the way he made her feel, but him. Who he was.

  He stroked his hands up and down her legs. Then he leaned over and trailed his lips up her leg and inner thigh.

  Her panting grew more intense as he moved closer to where she wanted him.

  He stopped at the edge of her panties and gave her a few light nibbles, but he didn’t proceed any farther.

  “Ander, please, now.”

  He was intoxicated by the rough need in her voice and the deep, familiar scent of her arousal. His erection was almost painful now, but it was a pain that spurred him on, distracted him from the shuddering in his chest. “Tell me what you want.” He needed to hear it, needed to hear all of it.

  “Touch me,” she begged, fisting her hands in the sheet. “Or use your mouth. Or fuck me. Or something. Just do it quickly.”

  He nuzzled the wet spot, and she gave a harsh cry of pleasure and tried to grind herself against his face.

  Ander held her firmly by the hips to keep her still and lightly nudged at her arousal once more.

  Lori’s arms shot up to clutch at the headboard, and she mumbled in soft, broken tones. “Please, Ander, please. Now, please.”

  He had to close his eyes to control his throbbing erection as she spoke. When he opened them again, he grabbed her underwear in both hands and, with a savage yank, ripped them at the seam.

  He used to do that kind of thing all the time to give his clients a thrill, but he’d never done it with Lori before.

  She cried out in both surprise and delight at this primal gesture and whispered, “Yeah, Ander. Good. Now.”

  He pulled the torn fabric away from her skin, baring her completely to his gaze. “Now what?” he asked, his voice more strangled than he would have liked. His face hovered just above her pussy.

  She bent her legs at the knee and pulled them up, opening herself to him more completely. “Use your mouth,” she choked, raising her head slightly so she could see what he was doing. “Please, Ander. Use your mouth.”

  So he did.

  His tongue lapped at the warm flesh, tasting her desire, darting in at her entrance to spill even more.

  Lori had immediately started pumping her hips, trying to establish a satisfying rhythm. But Ander grabbed her again and held her still as he nuzzled and fluttered his tongue.

  His cock pressed into the mattress now, and he was briefly afraid that he’d lose it completely when she started urging him incoherently to continue. She was fighting his grip on her hips.

  She’d been quiet when he’d first done this to her, three years ago now. Self-conscious. She’d come for him—beautifully—but she hadn’t surrendered to this wild abandon.

  She trusted him completely now.

  For some reason, that was the thought that stretched his control to the breaking point. He straightened up quickly, releasing his hold on her, needing to be inside her immediately.

  She whined in protest.

  “Sorry, baby,” he said, forgetting he was supposed to be powerful as he undressed quickly. “Can’t wait anymore.”

  “It’s fine—just hurry up. I’ve missed you so much.”

  Naked and painfully erect, he moved back over her, this time settling between her spread legs. He poised his cock at her entrance, but paused before he entered her.

  She clawed at his shoulders. “Now you’re just being mean.”

  He closed his eyes. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want you inside me. Please, Ander.”

  He entered her slowly. Then held himself perfectly still, needing to recover his control and reveling in the familiar hot clasp of her body.

  Lori, on the other hand, was unable to remain still. Trying to ride him from below, she pulled her bent legs closer to her body in order to get more leverage. “Oh, God, I need you to move.”

  Supporting himself on extended arms, he eased back slowly until he had almost pulled out, then sank in with a slow thrust. He watched Lori’s face twist with pleasure. He repeated the move, and she made a throaty humming sound. The third time she grabbed for the headboard.

  “Faster,” she urged him. “Please, faster.”

  He tried to keep his motion steady—tried to exert some sort of control—but his body refused to obey his mind. He thrust into her hard and fast, not pulling
out quite as far, and Lori met his thrusts with her hips.

  She was quickly building toward orgasm, softly gasping out a succession of monosyllables—mostly “yeah” and “Ander.” His eyes shifted from her lovely face to the bouncing of her breasts.

  He felt her inner muscles flutter around him, and she made a stifled sound and flailed her head.

  “Tell me,” he gritted out, trying to prepare himself for what he knew was coming. “Tell me.”

  She lurched up off the bed a few inches. “Coming. Ander, please.”

  He accelerated his thrusting, willing his body to temper its need. “Come for me, Lori,” he demanded roughly. “Come now.”

  She came.

  It was beautiful and powerful both. She nearly bent her body backward as she clutched at the headboard, banging it loudly a few times against the wall. Her muscles clenched him ruthlessly, so he could only push against the contractions and urge himself not to come as well.

  It was a near thing. He released a strangled sound and jerked his head to the side, so that her wild, gorgeous abandon wouldn’t push him over the edge.

  It had been so long since he’d felt her like this.

  It threatened to break him.

  Her hips twitched a few more times as she came down, and she gasped desperately for air, her body damp and flushed all over.

  “God,” she panted, reaching up to stroke his face. “That was incredible. How the hell did you keep from coming too?”

  His sense of irony made an unexpected appearance as her pussy still clasped possessively at his cock. With a twitch of his lips, he muttered, “I have control like iron.”

  She giggled appreciatively and leaned up to give him a sweet kiss.

  But this sort of tenderness stretched him too far. He reared up. “Ready for more?”

  “Yes, please,” she replied, smiling at him fondly.

  Her expression made his chest ache, his heart swell, his control falter.

  All his life, he’d sought control over his world—by defying his father, by refusing to submit to social expectations, by making his body do what he’d done. Since he’d gotten together with Lori, his world had been different. He had been different.