Clenching his jaw, he knocked on her apartment door.
Seconds that felt like eons passed, but just as he lifted his fist to rap on the weathered wood again, the metallic sound of a lock twisting reached him. The door swung open, and whatever he’d been about to say withered and died on his tongue.
Goddamn.
He’d seen Hayden in skinny jeans, business attired and a ball gown. As gorgeous as she was in all of them, this woman in a white, men’s tank and tiny, pink sleep shorts beat them all. Her beautiful, heavy breasts pushed against the top, and through the thin material, black lace taunted him like a red flag waved before a raging bull. The shorts skimmed over the sensual flare of her hips, stopping mere inches below the pussy he hungered for with a desperate need that should’ve scared him. Would’ve scared him if he could think. Long, slim legs seemed to stretch for miles, ending in dainty feet, toes painted a vibrant, surprising neon green. The incongruous color almost made him smile. Almost. It was hard to show amusement when his zipper was creating a stencil against his dick.
He dragged his gaze back up her petite figure, lingering over her breasts once more, remembering the feel of the hard tips on his tongue, recalling the husky moans she emitted when he tugged and sucked on her beaded flesh. How her sex would squeeze his cock when he tongued her nipples while he was deep inside her. How she begged him to eat her pussy while he pinched those nipples. God, she used to love the hell out of that.
Fingers curling into fists, he raised his scrutiny higher, finally meeting the hazel eyes that shamed every woman he’d ever met into the realm of ordinary.
“I’m going to fuck you.” The declaration, raw and stark in the silence, abraded his throat as it escaped. He hadn’t meant to utter it—hadn’t come over here for that—but he refused to rescind his intention. Not when it was the truth. Not when lust poured through him so thick and hot, it seemed to weigh him down. Not when he could barely breathe past the need.
Her eyes widened a fraction, but when he stepped over the threshold and quietly shut the door behind him, she didn’t utter a word. Didn’t retreat from him. And that silent acquiescence snapped the frayed leash on his control.
A veil of crimson slammed down over his vision as he leaped on her. He crashed his mouth to hers, wheeling around and back-pedaling her toward the nearest wall. Burrowing his fingers in her unruly curls, he thrust his tongue between her lips, claiming all the sweetness inside. For himself. His alone. Swirling, licking, sucking… The kiss was messy, wild, untampered. No skill, just need. The need for more. Always the need for more. He wanted her to willingly give him everything. Her mouth. Her touch. Her screams. Her pussy. Her trust. Her heart…
Ripping his mouth away, he shook his head as if he could unsettle that last thought. She’d given her heart to him once, and he didn’t have the right to ask it of her again. But this…sex, fucking. It’d always been good—goddamn apocalyptic—between them. She would give him her body, her pleasure, her orgasms. It would have to be enough. For both of them.
She clamped his head between her hands, her short fingernails scraping his scalp. He groaned, obeying her silent plea and taking her mouth again. For just a moment, he allowed her to commandeer the lead, let her do the taking. Fuck, her need was intoxicating, like the strongest, most potent liquor in his veins. Little whimpers escaped her, greedy sounds like flicks of her tongue over his cock. Cupping the back of her thigh, he hiked her leg up, held it wide. And ground his throbbing, hard dick against the pad of her pussy. God, she was soft. Even through his jeans and the flimsy material of her shorts, he swore he could feel her heat. Circling his hips, he repeated the movement, dragging his erection up her slit, rolling over her clit.
She cried out, the back of her head hitting the wall with a muted thump. Her soft pants echoed in the room, and they weren’t enough. He wanted—needed—her screams. Releasing her leg, he jerked her tank top up, leaving the material bundled above the lace-covered flesh he bared. Still not enough. He yanked the cups down, the cups holding her breasts up as if serving them to him like a delicious treat he’d long been denied.
Passion made him rough, and when he latched onto a dark nipple, he wasn’t gentle. From the dark, heavy moan she released, Hayden didn’t seem to mind. Didn’t mind the hard drawing or rapid flicks. Or the pinches and tweaks of his fingers on its twin. Lifting his head, he studied the damp flesh, the flush painting her chest. Unable to resist, he dipped for another taste, coiling his tongue around a tip, tugging on the rigid peak. Growling, he cupped both breasts, pushing them high and together until her nipples almost grazed one another. Fuck, the sight of her. Lowering his mouth to her, he sucked both tips, stroking them with his tongue, scraping them with his teeth. Loving every cry and sob he elicited from her.
She writhed against him, her body trapped between the wall, his body and his mouth. Her fingers twisted in his hair, yanked on the strands, holding him to her. Encircling her wrists, he forced her hands from him, cuffed them to the wall on either side of her hips. She whined a protest, but he didn’t heed it, instead licking a sensual path down her torso, over her soft belly until his lips bumped the band of her shorts. He tightened his clasp on her wrists, silently ordering her to stay put before yanking the bottoms and her panties down her hips and long legs until the material pooled at her feet.
Fuck.
The prettiest pussy he’d ever seen.
For a second, he closed his eyes, but immediately reopened them, loathe to miss a single moment of the gorgeous woman in front of him. Totally bare of hair, the caramel and honey folds glistened with evidence of her desire. This was new. Not the cream slicking her lips—no, he’d witnessed that often on her, how wet she could get for him. The shaved pussy. When had she started that? And for whom… A shaft of jealousy pierced him, for an instant dislodging the clawing lust. His fingers tightened on her thighs, part of him longing to command the answers from her. But the other side—the animalistic, primal side—wanted to mark her, stake his ownership on this woman, on this pussy by reminding her who it belonged to.
Wedging his shoulder under her thigh, he spread her open for him and dove into her. Again, tenderness hovered far beyond his reach. Too much time had passed. Too much hunger had built up for gentleness. Not when her musky, sweet, thick scent filled his nostrils. Not when for the first time in years her folds parted under the stroke of his tongue and her juice slid across his taste buds. Her sharp, tormented cries caressed his ears. He lapped at her clit, flicking it before returning to the core of her and fucking her with his mouth. More moisture seeped from her, and he feasted on it, claiming each drop as his due.
Nails pricked his scalp, scraped his shoulders and neck. She bucked and rolled as if unsure whether she wanted to escape him or urge him on. Ripping the decision from her, he clamped firm fingers around her hip, holding her while he plunged two fingers inside her pussy. The slick, strong walls of her sex immediately clutched and squeezed him. So fucking tight. Like a hot little fist. His dick jumped in his pants, begging for that same erotic embrace. Coiling his tongue around her clit, he drew on the engorged nub, knowing from experience she loved a firm suck. Knew alternating with long, sweeps over the sensitive bundle of nerves would shove her to orgasm.
Twisting his wrist, he corkscrewed his fingers high into her pussy, treating her to grinding thrust after thrust, his knuckles smacking her swollen lips. The muscles quivered and spasmed around him, her clit pulsing under his caresses.
Her thighs clenched, her body stiffened, but instead of delivering the last plunge and stroke that would send her tumbling over the edge, he withdrew, surging to his feet. He ripped at the closure to his pants, wrenched down the zipper and thrust a hand inside to fist his cock. Hissing at the pleasure and ache, he freed his dick, squeezing the base hard, afraid just the draft of cool air over the swollen, damp tip could make him blow.
A soft gasp had his head lifting. Hayden stared down at him, her hazel eyes bright, slashes of pink tingeing her cheekbones. The tip of her tongue swept over her lush bottom lip, wetting the curve, inviting him to repeat the action. He dropped his attention back down to his cock, wondering how she saw him. Intimidating? He could understand that. With the ruddy, bulbous head shiny with pre-cum, and veins lacing the heavy, thick stalk, he appeared almost brutish in his need. But that wasn’t fear that glittered in her gaze. Maybe a little apprehension, but definitely excitement. Passion. Hunger.
She wanted him. Wanted him inside her, stretching her, burning her, filling her. And damn it, he craved the same.
Stroking his fist up his erection, he grimaced, bracing himself against the lash of pleasure. Hold on. He had to hold on until her pussy was wrapped tight around him, her silken, muscular hold gripping him, milking him. Then he could let go.
“Are you still on the Pill?” They were the first words he’d spoken since his announcement at her front door, and his voice seemed to boom in the charged silence. Lust sharpened the question, roughened it. She jerked his attention from his dick to his face, eyes wide. “Hayden,” he growled.
A short nod of her head.
“I’m clean, baby. I don’t fuck without a condom. But you…” A shudder rippled through him as he stroked himself once more. “I don’t want anything between us.”
A long pause where he held his breath, and when she again gave him a nod, he exhaled, relief pouring through him in a deluge. Until that second when she agreed, he hadn’t admitted to himself how important her answer was to him. Even if she didn’t realize what her submission meant, he understood this woman had to trust him to some degree to permit him inside her with no barrier.
Thank fuck. He couldn’t stand even the thin, latex layer separating him from her.
“Put your arms around me,” he murmured, moving in between her legs. Not waiting for her obedience, he hiked her up, wrapping her legs around his hips. His cockhead notched against her grasping entrance, but instead of immediately plunging into the smooth, two-sizes-too-small channel, he waited. Savoring this moment. Remembering in case he needed it to carry him through another five year absence.
