Torn - Part Three (The Torn Series) Read Online Free Page A

he said again before brushing my neck with his lips. He walked me backwards through the doorway and kicked the apartment door closed. “I missed you,” he breathed, turning us and pressing me back against the wall.
     
    “I missed you too,” I admitted before my brain could catch up.
     
    “And you still want me.” He gave me no chance to reply, though I wasn't sure what response to give. Not until his lips crashed onto mine - then the only answer I could come up with was, “yes, yes.” His arms so strong and tight around me, his mouth so hot and insistent upon mine - this was where I belonged. Or at least, that’s what my lust-fogged head told me.
     
    "Come inside," I whispered against his ear. I gripped the collar of his shirt tight. "See the shelf. The room looks better." His lips grazed my neck.
     
    "I don’t give a shit about the room." He walked us towards it anyway, softly kissing away my doubts and protests until he closed us inside.
     
    I felt feverish as we tore at each other's clothes. God, even the familiar smell of him gripped me - so warm and masculine. When he pulled me against him, bare skin against hot, bare skin, it was erotic and somehow comforting at the same time. My head sank against his shoulder as I thought, what the hell am I doing? I couldn’t seem to push him away, couldn’t seem to let him go. Break-up sex and make-up sex are both things people do, but which one is this?
     
    I didn’t care; it felt too good to be enveloped by his arms. In that moment it felt right. What was one little lie, anyway? This was the man who cared enough to send me a piece of furniture, who knew how to make me feel things I’d never felt before. This was the man who though I was more than some silly, naive little girl from the suburbs, who didn’t roll his eyes at me when I was anxious about nothing in particular, who didn’t downplay it when I was upset about being groped. He’d forgiven me for the shit I’d put him through with Tyler - couldn’t I try to do the same?
     
    Mallet seemed similarly lost in thought, crushing me tight against him and simply holding me there, breathing hard but making no move to rush despite his hardness nudging my belly.
     
    His hands warmed my back as they roamed. "Fuck," he muttered, "You feel so fucking good."
     
    I kissed his neck, tasting his skin. It inflamed my desire, and my hand snaked between us as I left a wet trail leading up to his mouth. “Mallet,” I whispered, “I’ve missed you, too.” My fingertips brushed the head of his erection, so hot and hard that it made me gasp. I couldn’t remember ever needing anything so badly in my life.
     
    He was silent. With barely a grunt, he wheeled me around and trapped my hands above my head, pressing me into the wall. I squirmed, rubbing my ass against him. Yes, please. Let’s do this.
     
    His free hand curved around my waist and he pulled my bottom half out, lowering my trapped arms as he positioned me, back arched and ass up. The position was hot, and vulgar, and I tingled all over imagining him looking at me. My breath came out in pants. Heat blossomed through my core as his hand roamed my cheeks and his fingers dug in.
     
    Then his fingers moved lower and traced my cleft, delving deeper as I moaned at his touch. The hand around my wrists gripped tighter as I tugged against it. He was hilariously stronger than me, of course - I may as well have tried to push down the wall. There was something hot and wild about being so trapped by him, and I groaned his name.
     
    He answered with a hot breath slowly exhaled against my neck as he slid two fingers inside. I cursed as I rocked back against him, drawing him even deeper. Soft, mewling sounds escaped me as he stroked me over and over, expertly rubbing all my most sensitive places, building my pleasure higher and higher. I groaned in frustration when he abruptly withdrew.
     
    “Wider,” he breathed, and I set my feet further apart, my knees weak with