Battered Not Broken by Celia Kyle Read Free Book Online

distinct
click of the lamp being turned off echoed through the room.
    Standing outside her door and listening to
her breathe would surely drive him crazy. Pushing away from the
door, he took a few steps and was embraced by the familiar
surroundings of his own room. But something was different. The
scent of vanilla, lavender, and mint that seemed to surround
Gillian remained. He’d never get any sleep.
    Accepting his fate, Ronan flopped onto his
bed, throwing on arm over his eyes. It was going to be a long night
indeed. Her fragrance wrapped around his body, skimming and flowing
through his pores where he lay. His cock, half hard from Gillian’s
kiss, slowly filled with blood until it strained against his
boxers. Sitting up, Ronan peeled off his t-shirt before lying down
again. Damn, it was hot in his room.
    Closing his eyes, he imagined Gillian lying
in bed with him. Not the Gillian across the hall, but a Gillian who
had a soul filled with trust. A woman whose skin wasn’t marred with
bruises caused by a man and fear didn’t lurk in her eyes. His mate
was a beautiful woman, but she’d be breathtaking when she could be
in a room with all three of them and not spend every moment
searching for an escape route. The “door”, Kyle, would be in a
world of hurt if he ever came to their home.
    The open, trusting Gillian in his imagination
would snuggle against his body, lining up every one of her curves
against him. From the brief glimpses he’d had of her body and the
few times he held her, Ronan knew her body was plump and
curvaceous, just the way the Bearclaw men liked their women. With
her pressed against him, one hand would bury in her golden,
bouncing curls while the other would stroke her body from shoulder
to hip, savoring the silken smoothness beneath his work roughened
hands.
    She’d sigh against his chest, enjoying the
soft touches. Ronan would be gentle, oh so gentle, with his Gilly.
She deserved to be caressed and that’s what she’d get. Her hands
would sift through the hair on his chest and find his nipple,
rubbing, stroking, and pinching the tiny nubbin.
    Ronan mimicked the actions of his imaginary
Gillian, touching his body as he imagined she would. His fingers
found their mark and he pinched, shivering as the sensation peaked
and slithered away. His hand released the tiny protrusion of flesh,
hardened from his touch, and snaked his hand south. With light
touches, he imagined Gillian tempting and teasing him by stroking
his abdomen, to his hip, and then thighs before repeating the
caress. He did the same, driving his need higher.
    Refusing to break free of his fantasy, Ronan
continued. Stroking, touching, feeling, his muscles tensed beneath
his fingers before relaxing as his hand inched closer to its goal.
So much closer. After a few more teasing touches, his fingertips
sifted through the cropped curls surrounding his erection and
stroked the base of his shaft.
    Hard as a rock, his thumb and forefinger
encircled his hardness and squeezed, relishing in the first touch
of his sensitive skin. Dragging his hand up his erection, his
fingers picked up the silken drop of pre-come and rubbed it on the
tip. Gasping at the sensation, he encircled his shaft once again
and using his pre-come as a lubricant, began stroking his cock
again. He imagined it was Gillian’s hand loving his body, and the
speed of stroke increased. Up, down, up, squeeze. Over and over he
moved his hand on his body. Gilly would be so sweet, so perfect at
loving him.
    Hips moving in conjunction with his hand, he
continued the gentle tugging and stroking of his erection while his
other hand moved to cup his balls. Imagining it was Gillian’s mouth
tonguing him, he rolled the sensitive sack in his hand, alternating
between tugging and squeezing. The combination of the fantasy and
self-loving was pulling him closer to the edge. Any moment now he’d
come with thoughts of Gillian dominating his mind.
    At one point, Ronan brought his feet closer
to