Текст книги "Destroyed"

Автор книги: Pepper Winters

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

“Do it.” Her hand cupped the tip of me, pressing down, swirling moisture that appeared from nowhere. Shooting stars and earthquakes took up residence in my stomach, needing to release.

“Oh, my God, woman. I’m going to come.”

Her grip immediately softened, letting the orgasm fade. “Not till you tell me how you feel.”

Goddammit. “I feel torn into pieces that will never fit together. I have so much inside, I just wish I could hit a reboot button and forget about everything until the second you started jerking me off. I was taught to ignore right and wrong. I’m a fucking mess.”

Her hand increased its pressure, rewarding me. “Do you want me to stop?” she murmured.

I wanted to say yes. Tell her it wasn’t safe, that she’d pushed me too hard, but I had no willpower left. None. Gone. Non-existent. “No.”

Her fingers wrapped harder, stroking me, pumping me. Blood flowered thicker, filling my cock with an eager heat until I blazed for more. I shifted my hips, giving her better access. I wanted to be inside her. I couldn’t take much more of her possessive grip.

Zel didn’t move or touch me apart from my cock, and I was eternally grateful she kept her distance. But at the same time I was pissed off, annoyed, and wanted so badly to take control.

With her free hand, she inched the waist band of my trousers down my hips, never stopping her mind-bending stroking.

I raised my hips for her to pull the material off. Inch by inch, she slid the ruined trousers further. I didn’t care about her touching me. I didn’t care that more scars were on display.

All I cared about were the sparks and tingling tightness in my lower belly and dick. The conditioning lost its power over me. Everything ceased to exist but her.

The moment the trousers slid off my ankles, she knelt lower between my legs and squeezed. “I’m going to kiss you.”

My eyes shot wide, shattering the spell she’d put me under. The urge to grab her neck pulsed behind my eyes. I couldn’t handle her kissing me. I’d lose it.

“No. Don’t.”

Her tongue darted out, pink and wet. “Not on the lips,” she whispered. Her thumb caressed the highly sensitive tip of my cock, pressing against the hot flesh. “I’m going to kiss you. Here.”

Oh, my fucking God.

Never in my life had anything sounded so good. So fucking deliciously good. Never before had lips ever come close to that part of my anatomy.

I ceased to know how to speak. I nodded once, eyes wide, muscles tight.

She licked her lips, sending a thrill right through my heart.

The anticipation of her licking me, tonguing me, made my cock lurch in her fingers. Dropping her eyes, she bent over. The anticipation was too much. I couldn’t suck in a proper breath.

I waited endlessly for the first sweep of her tongue.

But then she stopped.

Sitting upright, she released her hold on me. My heart bucked in my chest as she stood up and moved to the side of the bed where I’d placed the leather cuff.

Holding it up, she said, “I’m going to put this on you. I want to give you pleasure but I refuse if I can’t restrain you.” Her voice wobbled; her body flushed with lust, same as mine. Her eyes fell to my straining cock, standing stiff and hot and begging for her mouth. The connection between us throbbed with rightness. Whatever we were doing was perfect. Whatever she was doing was working. I was healing.

I nodded.

Without a word, she padded back and waited for me to put one arm against the metal tree headboard. Doing her best not to touch me while securing the leather, I risked everything by leaning forward and placing a simple kiss on a darkening bruise on her neck. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, breathing in her subtle scent of Lily of the valley.

She pulled away. “I know.” Disappearing into my wardrobe, she came back with a belt. Her eyebrow raised, looking at my other hand. I kept my palms curled, hiding the III tattooed in the centre.

I obediently placed my wrist against the bedhead, hissing as she straddled me, deliberately brushing her jean-clad pussy against my extremely hard cock.

She tightened the belt before resuming her kneeling position between my splayed legs. Her hot breath tickled my upper thighs, and I didn’t know how much longer I could wait.

I wanted her mouth. Terribly.

“Tell me what you want,” she said softly.

I shook my head. It was one thing to accept what she wanted to give, but I couldn’t tell her what I wanted. Not after everything. I owed her more than I’d ever be able to repay.

“I want to hear you say it.” Her eyes flashed and her fingers squeezed me in warning.

A flush of heat threatened to paint my cheeks. After a lifetime of being told to forget about sex, she now wanted me to dive in and embrace it. Swallowing hard, I growled, “I want to feel your mouth around my cock. I want to feel your heat and hear you moan from my taste.”

Fuck me. I could’ve come just from talking dirty. It turned me on—sent comets exploding in my cock.

Zel smiled. “As you wish.”

Keeping eye contact, she bent over me, and without any warning, slid her hot, wet, exquisite mouth over the tip of my erection.

My world went from black to prismatic. I’d never felt such wonderment, such freedom, such deep seated primal happiness. My heart swelled; my limbs locked. I couldn’t focus on anything but her. Her. Her.

I groaned with gratefulness and thankfulness and joy. Her fucking amazing mouth sucked my length deep, deep inside. The swirl of her slippery tongue licked and adored, giving me no chance of remaining sane. I lost myself to Zel. I willingly gave everything to her.

“Like that?” she breathed against my lower belly. “Do you enjoy my tongue licking you, pleasuring you?” She trailed kisses from base to tip, always stroking.

I groaned, trembling with a mixture of furious conditioning and heavenly pleasure. “Yes. Fuck yes. Don’t stop.”

She laughed softly and descended once again. Her hand slid up and down, lubricated by saliva, feeling out of this world. A bonfire built deep in my balls.

I flinched, testing the restraints as Zel cupped me, massaging sensitive flesh. I couldn’t keep track of her mouth and fingers and touch.

My brain tried to revert into Ghost mode. My muscles shuddered with orders that would never be fully ignorable.

Then Zel swallowed my length and hummed. The vibrations smashed through my conditioning, bulldozed through my thoughts, and I regressed to a simple creature. A man chasing pleasure for the first time. An animal with the only intent of coming in this beautiful seraph’s throat.

The bed jangled and shook as I fought against the restraints. I wanted to touch her, thread my fingers through her hair and thrust into her mouth. I wanted to give her everything.

But the cuff and belt held me captive, leaving me completely at Zel’s mercy.

Her mouth sucked harder, dragging more and more fire into my groin. My spine tingled with need; my eyes snapped closed.

Zel was magic. She was a witch. I wanted to come forever.

The last of my undoing came in the form of her hair cascading onto my thigh. The tickling amplified my awareness of her hot, slippery mouth and her tongue swirled harder, building me faster, sending me hurtling toward the edge.

I had no choice but to let go.

I completely forgot who I was and the disaster my life had become and dropped all my walls to my soul.

I came like a fucking garden hose.

Spurt after spurt I jerked in her hold. She lapped up every thrust, swallowed every drop. No amount of prose or literature could describe the intensity, the visceral sublimity of my release.

It changed me. It gave me warmth for the very first time. It gave me fucking hope.

I opened my eyes as her tongue flicked out, washing me clean from the last of the most intense orgasm of my life. She’d taken a part of me into her. She’d completed the bond that I’d felt ever since I set eyes on her.

No one had made me feel like Zel. No one held me hostage like Zel.

She’d successfully done in ten minutes what I’d tried to do in two years.

She brought me back to life.

11

Hazel

Life has a way of lulling unsuspecting victims into a false sense of security. Providing answers to problems that seem too hard to fix. Giving love to combat loneliness. Sending a kind word in a moment of doubt.

But it was those moments that made you weak, and that was when life struck the hardest.

I thought in my naivety I’d found a way to help Fox. That I’d done the impossible and made progress with a man so psychologically damaged. I thought I’d find a cure for Clara thanks to Fox’s money. I thought so many happy, hopeful things.

But just like everything.

I was wrong.

* * *

A week passed after our fight and the unfortunate incident of Fox trying to strangle me. After seeing his naked legs and sewing the stab wounds I inflicted, I’d hoped he’d get over his issue of clothing and nudity.

But not once did I see his legs again, or his chest or back or arms. I’d catch myself watching him, tracing his muscles beneath his black shirt, wishing I could touch and taste.

The longer he remained elusive, the more my mind went wild with what he kept hidden. What if he was so badly mutilated under the clothing that I’d burst into tears, grieving for a little boy who’d never had a hand laid on him in friendship or love? What if he hid something even more sinister?

The morning after our fight—after I made him break apart with my mouth—things changed between us. He accepted my need to return home in the evenings. And we silently agreed to start from scratch.

We never discussed the contract—we didn’t need to. As far as I was concerned, the agreement was void. What happened gave us something deeper than a piece of paper. Fox would still pay me, and I would still accept it for my daughter, but we’d evolved past exchanging one commodity for another.

We became friends.

A few days after the incident, I tried to change his bandages to inspect the stitches in his leg, but he flatly denied me and moved as if he had no injury. He was the master at masking pain.

As strange as it seemed, we understood each other and time moved forward. Fox knew I wouldn’t put up with his violence, and I knew he wouldn’t tolerate being touched.

It was a whole new world full of wanting and fearing.

During the day, I stayed with Fox. We explored his house, or went for walks in the semi-wild gardens around his property. He showed me how to help with the paperwork of Obsidian and most days I sat beside him at his desk filing receipts, sending out monthly invoices for membership, and offering suggestions on how to improve productivity.

Instead of being possessive of his company, Fox listened intensely, nodding to advice, and softly answering questions about the legal aspects of his club.

Our minds found even ground, laying the foundation for a topsy-turvy friendship that seethed with chemistry and need, but was never acted upon.

Fox opened his life to me—every avenue of his business, every account and password on his computer—but not once did he let me touch him, or ask anything about his past.

The smiles he gave were tinged with shadows; the laughs echoed with loneliness. My heart screamed for him to recognise the gift I wanted to give him. I wanted the honour of healing him. I wanted the joy of bringing him true happiness.

But it didn’t seem possible.

I’d catch him watching me as I bent over his books or walked silently by his side. His smoky eyes were so damn expressive he didn’t need words.

The message was loud and clear.

Why are you still here?

Why waste your time on me?

I’ll only destroy you.

I ignored those messages. I also ignored my own thoughts.

Lying in bed at night, listening to the soft breathing of Clara, I rifled through my feelings toward him.

I’d told him I hadn’t forgiven him for the bruises and terrible fear he’d instilled in me. Even though I lived a dangerous past, facing pain and not-so-perfect choices, I’d never been so petrified before. The thoughts running through my head when his fingers crushed my windpipe had been full of Clara. She’d never know how much I loved her. She’d never understand I’d do anything for her.

But then, thankfulness layered my horror. Thankful that I would die before my offspring—I wouldn’t have to see her wither and beg for help I couldn’t give.

Fox made me assess every inch of my life and I hated him for it. I didn’t think I’d ever truly get over what he’d done, but at the same time, he was the most real and unapologetic man I’d ever met.

Fox never told me where he went on the night he took me, but the bruises around his eye and cheek bone had faded to a muddy yellow. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to his joints clicking or his back creaking whenever he moved after sitting for a period of time. He sounded like an old tin solider badly in need of some oil.

At five p.m. every night, I would leave Fox and catch a taxi from his home to mine. He’d given me the one hundred thousand cash he promised, and I was able to afford another trial inhaler for Clara. He tried to drive me, but I flat-out refused. While I admitted I had a fondness for him, an insatiable need to fix him, and a craving for him physically, I was still afraid of what he was capable of. He was an undetonated hand-grenade, and I had no intention of letting him near Clara. He had his secrets, and I had mine. That was the way it had to be.

Clara would launch her warm, squirmy body into my arms and we’d eat together, watch television, do her homework, then giggle and talk in the dark until she fell asleep. I hoarded those moments like gold dust, locking each memory into a safe inside my mind, knowing each recollection would torture me when she was gone.

Every morning, I woke with the hope that doctors had diagnosed wrong. Clara seemed too healthy and vibrant—her hair glossy, eyes bright and mind inquisitive.

At ten a.m. every day I would return to Fox and climb into his bed. He’d wake, smile, then go back to sleep, leaving me to sunbathe in bright sunshine, keeping vigil until midday when he woke.

For a week, I balanced my two lives perfectly; I began to think it could work.

But of course, life liked to prove me wrong.

* * *

“Holy crap, you scared me,” I said, clutching the folders tighter against my chest. It was early afternoon, and I’d been working on ordering more supplies for Obsidian’s fighters. Fox had disappeared an hour ago, saying he’d be back.

I didn’t expect him to be silent and lurking against the black walls of his office—completely unnoticeable until he moved.

His lips twitched but he didn’t fully smile. He never did. Just once I’d like to see him let go and be happy.

If he knew how to, of course.

“Sorry. I was waiting for you.” He moved forward and took the heavy files from me, placing them on his desk. I’d been down on the fighting floor with Oscar taking note of the dwindling supplies that we needed.

He’d asked for more hookers, and I slapped him playfully. As much as I didn’t want to admit—I liked Oscar. He’d called me a whore and grabbed my boob, but beneath the brash exterior lurked a fun-some surfer whose blue eyes caused one or two wings of attraction in my stomach.

He was so different to Fox. Sun to dark. Happy to brooding. But I wouldn’t stray—not that I had any relationship obligations to Fox apart from a money transaction—but my feelings had grown from lust to something deeper.

I no longer thought about our time together just for a month. I would stay until Fox smiled with his soul. I would stay until he could make love to me like I wanted him to.

And if he hurts you again?

I’d leave and never look back. I had feelings for him but I didn’t have a death wish.

“I want to go outside. I need some sunlight,” Fox said, spinning back from placing the paperwork on the desk. “Come with me?”

Such a simple request. A walk around his property in the sun.

I smiled. “Are you asking me on a date?” Tapping a finger against my lips, I said, “Could this be seen as an improvement to the kidnap by knife routine?”

His hand suddenly captured my elbow, pulling me forward. He kept a small buffer of space between us, but his breathing altered from relaxed to shallow. “Do you know why I’ve avoided you for a week? Why I haven’t begged for your mouth, or dragged you into my bed?” His silver eyes scorched me with acres of pent-up lust.

I bit my lip as a wave of desire spread like wildfire. My core grew liquid at the memories of sucking him: his salty dark taste, the way he came apart in my hands. I liked the power I had over him. I loved bringing him to a body shuddering climax. But for the past week, I walked on knife blades. My body wanted Fox every second of every day and not being able to touch him—to let him know I wanted him—had been torture.

“Why?” I murmured, hypnotised by his bottom lip.

“Because I want to give you what you gave me. I want to make you come so fucking hard that you fall into my arms. I want to be able to catch you and tell you everything you want to know.”

I swayed forward. “Do it then.” My heart raced like a rabbit.

His head dropped, bringing his lips temptingly close to mine. “I would if I could. But I don’t have the strength. I’m a walking battleground between my past and the future I want. And I’m so fucking scared of hurting you again.” His fingers tightened around my elbows. “I just want to be quiet inside. I want normal thoughts and the luxury of just fucking hugging you.”

Fox was unlike any man I knew. I couldn’t hate him. Not with his gigantic heart and the sweetness lurking in his violence. But I did hate that he spoke the truth. It wasn’t a game he played. He honestly couldn’t control whatever lived inside him, and my life would be forfeited if he lost control.

Our eyes locked, green to grey. I stood on tip-toes to kiss him.

He froze as my lips moved on his, and I waited to see if he would push me away. I wasn’t stupid. After what happened before, I now carried a knife in my hair and in my back pocket. I fully intended to deliver my threat if Fox ever overpowered me again and made me choose who lived or died.

His mouth opened beneath mine; he moaned low and deep as my tongue entered and swept over his bottom lip.

My arms wanted nothing more than to wrap him in an embrace and crush myself against him. I wanted friction between us. I wanted his hands on every inch of me.

His head tilted to deepen the kiss, following my lead with his tongue. It was the contradiction that made me hot for him. A dominate male through and through, but beneath that lived a man who only wanted approval. A man who had never had affection or love or a simple kiss.

And that broke my fucking heart.

He pulled away, looking deep into my eyes. “Walk with me?”

I nodded.

Leaving the office, we made our way down the steps and through the fighting rings to the front of the house. Only two fighters had arrived for a morning session and no one disturbed us.

Fox didn’t stop when we reached outside. He lifted his face to bask in the golden warmth. His black clad body looked like a misplaced shadow as we made our way across his gravel driveway to the grass beyond.

He waited for me to walk beside him and gave me a gentle smile. “My life would be a lot easier if the sun shone twenty-four hours a day.”

I played with my fingers, rubbing the need away to hold his hand. I hated that I couldn’t touch him. There was intimacy just waiting to be claimed between us, but without touch it ebbed and faded, leaving a trace of awkwardness. “If you hate the dark so much, why do you wear all black?”

His jaw clenched but we kept walking. “It’s a stupid reason and doesn’t even make sense to me. I should dress in yellows and whites—avoid black completely, but I don’t.”

“Tell me,” I whispered.

He stopped and faced the house. Glaring at the huge gargoyles decorating the mansion, he growled, “I’m free. So why did I build a house on the exact replica where all the hell and evilness occurred? Why do I wear the only colour we were allowed?” His eyes met mine. “Because it’s all I know. The only place and colour that I trust to keep me safe. Everything else terrifies me because I’m not worthy of forgetting my past.”

My heart splintered, the shards poking through my lungs. “You are worthy. Every day I spend with you, you’re improving.”

He laughed darkly. “Only because I keep my distance and don’t touch you. Believe me, if you knew my thoughts you would run.”

“Do you want me to run?”

His eyes narrowed. “You should.”

“But do you want me to?” I stepped forward, cursing the inability to grab his hand and hold him. “Focus on what you’re feeling.”

He shook his head, striding off toward the back garden. “What I want doesn’t matter. It never did.”

I trailed after him, wishing I could crack him open and pull every bad thought from his memory. We didn’t speak again until he led me toward a large greenhouse at the back of his extensive property. The large stone wall barricaded anyone from accessing the space and the sun glinted off the glass walls and roof, warming the budding plants within.

Fox opened the door, and a huge gust of heat slapped me in the face.

“Go in. I have a few things I want to show you.” His voice was rougher, sending my stomach twisting.

Entering the large greenhouse, I glanced around at the seedlings and exotic flowers. Spread out down two aisles with a large chair at the end rested vegetables, herbs, and bonsai. Orchids, in vibrant blues and purples, hung from elongated stems. Tomato plants cast a sharp pungent smell into the space.

Fox walked down the right aisle and stopped in front of a tray of pretty white flowers—tiny, like snowflakes hanging off a bright green stalk. “Do you know what these are?”

I moved closer. Of course, I knew what that was. As a mother, I’d meticulously catalogued every plant, household chemical, and poison that could harm Clara. I also spritzed on the scent every morning. My one luxury.

“It’s lily of the valley.” Staring at the little, innocent plant, I murmured, “Why are you growing it amongst edible and non-toxic plants?”

Fox rolled his shoulders. “We used to take turns maintaining the greenhouses at the compound. Lily of the valley, deadly nightshade, foxglove, all plants that can be turned into weapons.”

I froze, picturing killers tending to such delicate things like flowers all with the intent to murder.

Fox grabbed my hand suddenly and dragged me down the aisle toward the single large chair. It looked well used: a cracked brown leather.

“Do you come here often?” I asked, noticing a few discarded water bottles.

“Yes. I come to sit in the sun. The heat punishes, but also saves. It’s so different from where I’m from. I never want to be cold again.”

Letting me go, he dug into his pocket and held out another chain.

My heart did a weird swoop. He wanted to restrain me and there was only one reason why. He wanted sex.

His shoulders tightened. “This is a modified version. Hold out your hands.”

I didn’t want to, but I obeyed. His fingers whispered over my skin. First my right wrist, securing a separate bracelet, and then my left, repeating.

Once they were clasped, I held them up to inspect. My heart clenched at the dangling silver star on both. “Why did you do that?” I looked up, furious. I didn’t want the precious star necklace I shared with Clara to be anywhere near this world with Fox.

His eyes darkened. “Because it means a lot to you and I wanted to.” Capturing my cheek, he held me firm as he dropped his mouth to mine.

For a second, I wanted to bite him. I needed to argue and tell him it wasn’t okay that he’d trespassed into my life beyond him, but his tongue speared my lips, and I lost coherent thought.

Every shred of lust I’d been living with exploded into life, and I didn’t struggle as he pulled me forward. He sat in the chair, dragging me down until I stood over him.

Breaking the kiss, he murmured, “I need you, Zel and I want you fast. I’m not asking. I’m telling. I paid for a service, and I want you to sit on my cock.”

I should’ve been repulsed, but I was the total opposite. My skin hummed with sexual need; my body boiled in the heat of the greenhouse.

Fox reached forward and pulled my white t-shirt up a little. With a separate thicker chain, he looped it around the jewellery running down my front and brought my wrists to secure it. Once my hands were bound, his fingers fell to his buckle.

My mouth went dry watching him strip. I sucked in a noisy breath as he arched his hips and tugged his trousers down to his quads.

My eyes couldn’t feast fast enough. Fox never wore underwear and the hard equipment between his legs sprang into freedom. Countless silver scars decorated his upper legs. Everything about him enticed me. I’d never been so hungry or physically attracted to anyone as much as him.

“Come closer,” he ordered.

I did as requested, moving between his open legs. I stifled a moan as his fingers brushed my lower belly and dropped to caress my thigh. Trailing down my floaty turquoise skirt, he never broke eye contact.

I surrendered to his snowy gaze; goosebumps scattered over my skin as his touch moved down and down and down until he grazed bare leg. His hand trailed my kneecap, turning inward to begin the journey in the opposite direction.

Every inch was torture and heaven. His fingers were strong and dominating on my inner thigh, creeping higher and higher and higher.

I was panting by the time his knuckles brushed my pussy. His hand cupped me, holding me firm. I jolted in his grip.

He sucked in a heavy breath, eyes flaring wide as he felt how damp I was. “Fuck, you never fail to surprise me, Zel. I’ll never get enough of you. All I can think about is you riding me—of your mouth around my dick again.”

His other hand disappeared up my skirt to ease my knickers down my legs. He removed them quickly, his actions speeding up as his need compounded. The minute they hit my ankles, I kicked them away, thrilling at the hot air against my nakedness.

Sitting forward, Fox grasped my hip with one hand while his other disappeared under my skirt again. There was no hesitation when he reached my pussy. With clenched teeth, he pushed one long, delicious finger inside me.

I wanted to collapse at his feet. He moved his finger, stroking my inner wall.

I shuddered, unable to keep my eyes open. All I could concentrate on was his wondrous touch deep inside. His digit moved again and my pussy rippled around him, begging for more.

He froze. “Fuck, do that again.”

I looked up, a smile teasing my mouth. “Do what?” I tensed around his finger, loving his sharp hiss and wide eyes. He could lie all he wanted, but his wonderment at finger-fucking me told me this was a first for him. My heart pounded at the thought of what I could teach him—what we could learn together. How could a man like Fox be so sexually innocent? It was as if he’d been a recluse all his life.

“Show me. Tell me what to do,” he said in a strangled whisper. “I want to make you come on my finger.”

My hands shot up, desperate to capture his face and kiss the hell out of him. But the chains jangled, keeping me prisoner.

Fox smiled wryly. “See? You naturally want to touch. Did you think you could avoid the urge while I fingered you intimately? This is the only way.” His digit worked deeper and I moaned. “Tell me. Let me know how to make you shatter.”

I swallowed hard, cheeks flushing with excitement and nerves. I’d never had to explain sex. I barely knew the mechanics myself, but I had learned my body. I found the trick to exploding in the dark beneath my covers.

“Put another finger inside me,” I whispered.

His hand clutched my hip harder, and I dared look at his cock. It stood proud and so, so hard between his legs. My mouth watered to lick him again.

Slowly, he withdrew his finger and brushed my clit as he pressed two digits together. I stumbled as he very carefully and oh so teasingly pressed two fingers deep. I banded around him. I was more turned on than I’d ever been in my life.

“Shit, you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen,” Fox growled as his finger worked me, pressing deep and withdrawing in a perfect rhythm.

Seen.

Oh, God.

I looked up, freaking out. “The glass. Anyone can see us.” I wiggled, trying to free myself, but he held me firm. “Let me go. I agreed to sleep with you not give the world a show.”

He chuckled. “We’re too far away from the house to be seen through the windows and there’s a lot of grass to cross before they’d get an eyeful.”

His fingers dived deep and possessive, forcing my attention back to him. “Now tell me how to make you come.”

Everywhere he touched, I incinerated into smoke. My hips began a slow dance, rocking on his hand. I didn’t need to think, only listen to what I needed. I honestly didn’t know if I would be able to come while standing and giving instruction to a man who consumed my thoughts, but he wanted to try; I wanted to give in.

“Keep thrusting with your fingers, and swirl your thumb around my clit.”

Fox obeyed immediately. His thumb pressed the sensitive nerves, and I bucked in his hold. His forehead furrowed as he concentrated on perfecting his rhythm. Thrust, swirl, thrust, swirl.

With every stroke I forgot where we were, how strange our relationship was—I forgot my own name as heat gathered and rushed between my legs.

My knees wobbled wanting to crumble to the ground.

“Like this?” Fox asked, his voice so deep with lust I could barely understand.

I no longer possessed the gift of speech and ground myself onto his hand in answer.

“Fuck,” he groaned. His own hips began to pulse just slightly, a natural urge to join. “What else? Do I have to do anything else?” His hand left my hip and ascended to capture my breast. His fingers squeezed my nipple and I suffered a full body tremble.

“Yes… like that. Umm hmm.” My vision went black as all my senses turned inward, focusing on where he touched me.

His hand increased pressure until he rocked against my clit. “Come for me, Hazel. Fucking come on my fingers.”

His crude commands sent another wave through me, and he groaned. He lost the finesse of easy thrusting and grabbed my hip to hold me in place. “You’re going to fucking come.” He drove into me hard and deep. I cried out as intensity level went from hot to scorching.