Free Coming Undone by Avril Ashton

care. His fingers remained lodged deep in her pulsing cunt, flexing each time her muscles contracted.
    If he wasn’t holding her tight, she’d crumble to the floor.
    When her climax cooled, when her body’s tremors lessened, he removed his fingers. She murmured brokenly at the loss. He kissed her, an open-mouthed kiss above her clit, on the smooth skin of her sex.
    McKenna finally opened her eyes and peered down at him. His lips were swollen and wet, her juices clinging to his chin. He had a finger in his mouth, sucking with his eye closed.
    Her cunt spasmed at the sight.
    “Ren.”
    He raised a hooded eye to her. Lust made the green appear darker, and his cheeks were awash in red. With his finger in his mouth, he stared at her as if lost.
    “Ren.” She spoke his name again, voice clearer, steadier this time.
    He shuddered, need blanketing his features before he got himself under control. He got to his feet and picked her up. Holding her in his arms, he walked toward the bedroom. McKenna buried her face in his neck, lips brushing his skin.
    Under her touch, his pulse kicked up in speed.
    Her eyes drooped and a sigh escaped her when he placed her in the middle of the bed. Lethargy nipped at her heels, but she reached out to him, wanting to feel more.
    “Ren.”
    “Go to sleep, McKenna.”
    How could she sleep when they had unfinished business? Firm lips bushed over hers, bringing the musk of salt and need. Sleep claimed her.
    ****
    The loud clanking of a fire truck racing past McKenna’s bedroom window woke Ren. He jerked upright, wincing at the crick in his neck. Instead of stretching out on the couch or floor, he’d chosen to brave the night in a chair near McKenna’s bedroom door.
    The noise hadn’t woken her so he took a deep breath and let it out in a rush.
    Last night. He shouldn’t have made that move, shouldn’t have laid a hand on her. Not that he had. He’d used his tongue. His mouth.
    His cock hardened and he fisted his hands. Her taste was unreal, cream and salt and sweet with a hint of tart, delicious the way she melted on his tongue, the way her juices flowed for him.
    He really, really should not have done it, shouldn’t have come over the night before, but after viewing the video where Salim treated her as nothing more than a warm hole to sink into, he’d had to drop everything and rush over. He’d watched the video with Carter, dread and anger roiling in his gut. He’d prayed while he sat there, teeth gritted, that Salim didn’t give her to the other men in the room. He’d begged silently.
    Please. Please.
    When he’d achieved his selfish release, Salim had called his bodyguards and ordered them to take McKenna home. The relief at those words had almost driven him to his knees. She didn’t deserve to be treated like nothing more than a fucking doorstop, to be considered too insignificant by someone as slimy as Salim Najal.
    He’d rushed over to see McKenna, hoping to at least give her a shoulder to cry on, an available ear should she feel like talking. Instead she’d been in that backyard, rocking back and forth on the rusted swing as snow fell, so forlorn and alone. She’d looked so innocent. All he’d thought about was bringing back the fire to her eyes, the fierce strength to her face. Until he pulled those tight, wet jeans off her, he’d had no plans, but she’d stood there all glorious with her milk chocolate skin, so smooth and inviting.
    He had his hands on her, her curves begging to be touched, caressed. She’d refused to look him in the eye until that first taste.
    He groaned.
    On the bed, McKenna shifted.
    The taste of her was addictive, her cunt so tight he could see how someone like Salim would want to keep her locked down, show her off as a prize. But McKenna needed care and gentleness, things he didn’t know if he had in him to provide. She deserved to be worshipped, her body deserved to be caressed. If he could he would. Going from Salim to him would not be an