Page 127 of When Hearts Collide
You fucking selfish, greedy bastard.
I don’t deserve my dream, to be a professor, to have her in my life.
I don’t deserve anything.
Ignoring her, I unlock the door and step inside. I wait for her to enter the room before I close the door and secure the lock.
I stride to the desk and press a button on the remote to turn the walls from clear to gray, blocking the view from the prying eyes outside.
Heated blood rushes in my ears, the sounds akin to the roaring wind in a hurricane. The madness I’ve attempted to rein in slams through the metal chains. I feel the metal giving, little by little.
A losing battle.
Millie stands before me, her luscious hair in disarray, a light sheen of sweat on her face, her pale skin pinkened from exertion.
Her beautiful, startling blue eyes stare at me in concern, her pouty lips curving down into a frown.
My little lark looks so beautiful. My heart, already bloodied inside my rib cage because of the last few weeks—my tortuous attempt at withdrawal from what surely would be a lifelong addiction—swells in her presence.
It clamors for her. It beats for her. It hungers for her.
And I don’t know how I’ll survive without her.
“Oh, Ryland,” she murmurs while stepping toward me. “I’m okay. They didn’t get to me. For a moment there, I froze because I was shocked.”
She chuckles, her sweet voice sounding hesitant. “Who wouldn’t, right? But I think it’s time I get used to them. I’m Adrian’s sister after all, a public figure now. So, don’t worry abo—”
The chains snap and fall at my feet.
I grip the nape of her neck and crush my lips to hers. I’m voracious, desperate, frantic, an addict getting his last hit.
She whimpers as I thrust my tongue inside her mouth, tasting her sweetness of honey and chocolate, the elixir of life I need but will no longer have. She leaps into my arms and my hands automatically catch her by the round swells of her ass.
Stumbling back, I drop into my chair all the while devouring her with each swipe of tongue, each sharp bite. My hands travel up her body and pull up her T-shirt to expose the heaving swells of her tits.
Millie’s fingers dig into my neck as I wrench her bra out of the way and clamp my teeth on her pebbled nipple, the beaded peak thrusted out like eraser buds, and I suck.
She cries out before slapping a hand over her mouth to stifle the noise. My mind can’t compute how we shouldn’t be doing this in my office moments after the press made accusations against us.
I don’t care anymore.
I just know I need her. I need to taste her, to be inside her and to feel her heart beat against mine as our souls take one last flight together.
I want to feel her pussy strangling my hard dick one last time.
My free hand kneads her other breast before I switch sides. Millie grinds her hips on my cock like she needs this as much as I do. My suctions turn harder, stronger, each drag urgent, and I’m sure I’ll leave marks on her beautiful skin later.
“Ryland, oh my God, please fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” she chants under her breath, her head bent toward the ceiling, her back arched as her movements turn frenzied.
“Millie, my lovely little lark,” I rasp, and we pull apart just enough for me to wrench off her leggings and underwear and toss them to the ground.
Her fingers shake as she unzips the fly of my pants, reaches inside, and takes me out. My throbbing cock is seconds away from erupting, the tip red and dripping with pre-cum.
Her eyes are wild, dilated, her lips swollen, and we reach for each other again as she slams herself on top of me and I thrust home.
“Fuuuuck,” I groan, the sharp pleasure almost unbearable.
She lets out another keening moan as her body struggles to accept me, but I push through, too far gone to slow down. I’m in my own version of heaven…or hell. Tremors spread through her body. Inch by inch, I invade, and she submits.
