The scars weren’t horrible; they weren’t even that noticeable at first glance. But as Randi moved closer, she traced every faded line across his back and butt, and noticed they marked the backs of his thighs as well. His heavy muscles convulsed beneath her fingers as she touched every mark.
Why? I don’t understand why a parent has to beat a child. I know his father was a horrible man, but Hope never mentioned being beaten. I assumed he was just verbally abusive and treated them all like shit.
As the eldest male Sinclair, obviously the entire focus had been on Evan, and in some of the cruelest ways to a child.
Tears started to flow down her cheeks rapidly, but she ignored her own emotions. What had Evan’s life been like as a child? He’d been barely fed, and apparently beaten so badly that the faint marks were still present years later. What kind of monster did that to a child? His father had separated Evan from the rest of the family to use as a tool for his own brutality.
“Bastard!” Randi said aloud, her voice raspy because of her tears. “If your father wasn’t already dead, I’d cut his balls off and shove them down his throat.” The more scars she found, the angrier she got. Her growing up had been tough, but not like this.
“Are you actually . . . upset for me?” Evan asked in a low, hoarse voice.
Yeah. Maybe he didn’t know what it was like for someone to be outraged at what had happened to him, but she was absolutely standing up for the child he’d once been. “Yes.”
“It was a long time ago,” he replied calmly, strangely sounding like he wanted to comfort her.
Randi dropped to her knees and discovered every scar on his thighs and calves. “It doesn’t matter. He was a damn monster. Did he do this to all of the kids?”
“No. Not to the same extent. But the mental abuse he heaped on everyone was worse than the physical.”
Randi heard the hesitation in his voice as he answered, making her suspicious. “You did that on purpose. You let him beat the shit out of you so he didn’t do it to the other kids.” She knew she was right. Evan was a dedicated protector. He wouldn’t have done anything else.
“I can’t deny that it occurred to me that if I was his target of displeasure, he’d leave the others alone,” he agreed reluctantly.
Of course it did. “And did it work?”
“For the most part. He was an asshole, and after I left home for college, he started picking on Grady more than he ever did before. I noticed it when I was home for Christmas, and I was going to have a discussion with him, but then he died.”
She sensed relief in his tone, knowing that Evan had probably planned on more than just discussing his father’s treatment of his younger brother. It would have been nice if Evan had gotten the opportunity to beat the crap out of his father, but it was better that the asshole had died. A physical confrontation between Evan and his father would have been difficult for the entire family.
“It’s over now, Evan.” She didn’t want him to relive any of those memories again. “You’re strong and gorgeous.” Randi cupped his tight ass and brought her mouth to some of the faint lines at his lower back.
“Don’t!” Evan protested, turning around and glaring down at her. “Don’t feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t,” she told him honestly, looking up into his intense glare. “I just . . . care.” Evan would hate pity from anyone, which was probably why he’d never shared his past.
The expression on his face softened slightly. “Okay, then,” he finally answered, sounding somewhat perplexed.
She brought her mouth to his ripped abs, using her tongue to trace the delineated muscles there.
The taut flesh of his stomach became impossibly harder as it flexed under her touch. Leaning back, she traced the sexy, dark, happy trail that led to one enormously rigid cock.
It’s time.
This was a moment she couldn’t let pass to put to rest some of the ghosts of her past, and show Evan that he was the most desirable man she’d ever met.
Slowly, she opened her mouth, flicking the bead of moisture off the mushroomed head of his member, savoring the taste of Evan.
It wasn’t scary.
It wasn’t repugnant.
It was divine.
All thoughts of her traumatic childhood experience fled as she experienced the forceful essence of Evan Sinclair. There was no mistaking the feel of him, the taste of him. Opening her mouth, she slid her tongue along the underside of his enormous cock, and wrapped her right hand around the base. He felt like hard steel covered in a silky softness that was impossible not to touch.
“Randi,” Evan groaned. “Don’t. You don’t like it.”
Her heart clenched as she heard his tortured words, his willingness to give up something that obviously felt so good, because of her fear. It elevated her own arousal to a level she’d never experienced before. Letting him pop out of her mouth momentarily, she answered, looking him directly in the eyes. “Maybe with you I do. Let me, Evan. It’s pretty hot.”
She watched him as her mouth enveloped him again, deeper this time. His head fell back and he closed his eyes in what appeared to be carnal bliss.
“You’re killing me,” he rasped.
Randi gained confidence quickly at a skill with which she had very little experience. Following Evan’s vocal cues, she used her hand and mouth to taste him, mimic the act of sex by applying suction and using her tongue on the sensitive head of his cock.
His breathing was rough and ragged as she gently cupped his balls with one hand and splayed the other on his rock-hard ass to keep him close. The erotic, low, animalistic sounds escaping his mouth ravaged her senses and spoke to a portion of her soul that felt connected to him and the pain of his past.