“Bently!”
He clamped a hand over her mouth, stifling her moans. It only added to the building pleasure that crashed through her a second time. Lost in euphoria, she was unable to do anything but clench around his perfect cock. Her nails dug into his shoulders as his hands moved, sweeping over her skin, settling on her hips. His fingers kneaded into her naked flesh, lifting her off him as he climbed behind her. He grabbed her waist and spread her legs, slipping inside her from behind. She was on all fours as he pounded faster, deeper, harder.
“Yes. God, yes!” she gasped.
Bently leaned forward, raking his teeth over her shoulder and shooting a pleasured mix of pain curling through her core.
“Gonna take you to heaven, Angel,” he said.
“Come with me.”
He reached around and swirled her clit, sending her rocketing towards the universe as intense bliss shattered through her, curling her toes. She pressed her face into the mattress, stifling her scream. Bently’s muscles tensed and bunched over her, his cock pulsing as his hot cum filled her. They came together as one.
Just two individuals who’d been born into darkness and lived through hell. But they’d found heaven together. They’d formed an intimate partnership. They’d built a life for themselves filled with joy and purpose. Their love was that much deeper, that much stronger because of all they’d had to endure. She’d finally been able to turn her pain into something beautiful.
They were two lonely souls who had fought the odds pulling them down, and done the impossible by defying gravity.
THE END
“I wish I could say that racism and prejudice were only distant memories. We must dissent from the indifference. We must dissent from the apathy. We must dissent from the fear, the hatred and the mistrust . . . We must dissent because America can do better, because America has no choice but to do better.”
– Thurgood Marshall
Now, turn the page for a sneak peek of Book 4 of The Shattered Cove Series, The Lighthouse Inn (Jasmine and Atlas’s story) right now.
Sneak Peek of The Lighthouse Inn
Chapter 1
Jasmine
Jasmine pulled the sheet over the two fluffy pillows, smoothing out the wrinkles before reaching for the soft pink comforter. A paper card fell off the nightstand. Picking it up, she smiled. Happy Mother’s Day mommy! The script no doubt belonged to one of her sisters-in-law, but the shakily scribbled Z’s all over the card were from her favorite person in the world. Zoey had drawn two smiling faces on the card; one for Jasmine and one for herself. Jasmine set the card back on the night stand before running her hand over the bedspread once more. Never in a million years would she have imagined having such a soft feminine color in her space. Motherhood had changed more than just her body.
After tucking the edge under the pillow, she moved across the small room she shared with her four-year-old daughter. She pulled open the old and worn dresser, wiggling it side to side at the same time so it wouldn’t stick. Like everything in her life, it had been used almost beyond its limits. She placed Zoey’s carefully folded clothes inside before wriggling it closed again. She scanned the room, catching on the few dolls scattered across the floor. Jasmine bent and picked them up, opening the wooden doll house that Mikel, her brother, had made especially for Zoey. He’d painted it bright pink at her request. Jasmine bit back her smile. Only she would end up with such a girly girl for a daughter and be terrified.
She sighed, tracing the edge of the doll’s expression. The two smiling faces on Zoey’s Mother’s Day card flashing in her mind. Her chest tightened. Would Zoey have had a better life if I’d let someone adopt her? Would she have two parents who loved her, rather than just me? I can barely keep a roof over her head and used clothes on her quickly growing body.
Maybe it had been selfish to keep Zoey, but the moment she’d seen that little heart beating on the ultrasound she’d known: she’d never be able to give her up. But will I be good enough? Will I be able to protect her? Will she resent me when she knows what I’ve done? Who I was? Life would be so much easier if Jasmine was someone else with a different past.
The walls seemed to be closing in. Her ribs squeezed and the back of her eyes burned. She gently placed the doll inside the wooden house and straightened. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself. I just need to keep doing better. For Zoey. Her phone chirped, jarring her out of her mind. She had one guest checking in today, and that was what she should have been focusing on. She needed guests to keep her inn—her livelihood—alive.
She wiped her hands on her ripped jean shorts that had seen better days and opened her door. Walking down to the desk, a tall figure caught her eye. His back was to her, all attention focused on the painting of the crashing ocean waves on the wall.
“Good morning. You must be Mr. Remington.”
A low chuckle sent a shiver through her. “My father is Mr. Remington. I’m just Atlas.”
She smiled politely as her eyes darted up to his face and she froze. Time stopped. The air evaporated as terror gripped her heart and squeezed it like a vice. His tall frame filled out an expensive-looking suit. His black hair was short at the sides with flecks of grey, and longer at the top. Dark scruff peppered his perfect chiseled jaw. She shivered, remembering the way it had felt brushing across her shoulder. And those eyes. Grey and bright. She only knew one person with the same cloudy orbs. Zoey.
He’d changed some in the last four years since she’d seen him. Not that she’d had much time to really look
