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She slips a third finger inside and starts pumping them slowly. I can see how wet they are from here, and I’d love nothing more than to take those fingers in my mouth and suck them clean.
“Good girl. You look so fucking sexy. Jesus, the things I want to do to you.”
“Tell me,” she moans, using her free hand to cup her breast and pinch her nipple.
“I want to fuck your cunt with my tongue. Taste all that sweet nectar as I drink down your cum. You’d grip my hair so tight, grinding against my face. Hmmm,” I murmur, stroking myself faster.
“Then, once you’ve come on my tongue, I’d slide up your body and kiss you so you can taste how delicious you are. You’d feel my cock pressing against your stomach. And like the naughty girl you are, you’d angle your hips, trying to find a way to take me inside you. But not yet. You’re not desperate enough yet.”
I step closer, so now I’m standing at the side of the bed, in touching distance. Her breath hitches when she realizes I can just reach out and slip a finger in next to hers, but I won’t break my promise to her.
“I’d suck your rosy nipple into my mouth and tug it hard before flicking it with my tongue. When you start begging, I’d nip you with my teeth, making you whimper, and then I’d do it to your other nipple. I’d line my cock up with your pussy, but I won’t give in, not until you say my name over and over.”
I lick my lips, so close to coming it’s killing me. “Stroke your clit, Avery. Harder. Feel good?”
“So good,” she whimpers.
I dip my head until my face is inches from hers. “With your eyes locked on mine, I’d surge inside you, not stopping until you take every fucking inch of me. I’d want to give you time to adjust, but you’re so damn tight and wet that I can’t control myself. I’d fuck you harder and harder, watching your tits bounce with each thrust until you arch up and your eyes roll back into your head.
“You’d scratch your nails down my back and wrap your legs around me. I’d feel it the second you let go. You’d squeeze my dick so tight, I’d pump you full of my cum as you scream my name.”
And scream my name she does. Her hips lift as she pinches her clit, the orgasm ripping through her. I straighten, stroking my cock a couple more times, and cum all over her stomach and pussy.
I take a step back before I touch her, breaking the promise that keeps us a whisper apart. The only thing connecting us right now is our shared breathing, but even that feels intimate.
Her eyes close, and her face flushes as reality crashes in. I fist my hands, not wanting her to regret what just happened between us. But when she looks my way and guilt flashes in her eyes, I tuck my cock away and head to the bathroom.
I grab a small washcloth and wet it before carrying it out and handing it to her, even though I’d love nothing more than to clean her up myself. My eyes follow her movements as she wipes my cum from her skin.
Feeling my dick getting hard again, I cough to clear my throat and collect the T-shirt and boxers she was wearing, holding them out to her. She bites her lip as she looks up at me. I take the towel from her as she reaches up and takes the clothes from me.
“I’ll give you a second.” I turn and walk toward the bathroom, dropping the cloth in the laundry basket on my way. I wash my hands before looking at myself in the mirror—leaning on the counter, my fingers gripping it tightly, thinking about my next move. I might have pushed too hard, too fast, but I don’t regret a single second. I might be willing to hold back so Avery’s brain can catch up to what the rest of her is feeling, but there is no chance of me backing off completely. I don’t know why this woman has me in such a tailspin. I’ve met a million beautiful women before, but none of them called to me the way Avery does.
Taking a deep breath, I head back into the bedroom but pause when I find Avery on the other side of the door, looking hesitant. “I need to use the bathroom,” she whispers.
I step aside and let her in, but before she can close the door, I reach out and tug her to my chest, wrapping my arms around her. I don’t say anything as she stands there, rigid against me. Eventually, she relaxes and lifts her arms to wrap around my waist.
Pressing a kiss to her head, I breathe her in. “I know your head’s a mess. But I’m going to just lay everything out because I want you to know, no matter what, I’ll always be straight with you.”
She tips her head up and looks at me as I continue.
“I don’t regret what we did. In fact, it’s taking everything in me not to demand a repeat performance, but that’s not what you need right now.” I dip my head and brush my lips across hers before pulling back. “I’m in this with you until the end. We can work through whatever comes if we talk it out. Trust me to not judge you or demand more from you than you’re ready to give.”
Her eyes close, and a single tear runs down her cheek. “I wish I could have met you first. I would’ve loved you, and only you, for a lifetime,” her voice cracks, and her eyes open. “But I didn’t, and a part of my heart will always belong to Hawk and Creed. God, if I could switch off my feelings for them, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I can’t.”
She’s quiet for a second before she laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “If only falling in love came with a money-back guarantee. Some kind of protection plan or safety net that stops you from falling for the bad guy or even just the wrong guy. Instead, your heart keeps on taking those hits, each blow leaving a mark that you carry into the next relationship and the one after that. We can survive a few beatings, but what happens when love turns toxic and the marks don’t fade? They become scars. And I have a lot of scars, Ev. I have so much scar tissue, I’m surprised my heart even works anymore.”
“You see a scarred heart as weak when I see it as strong. What you see as damage, I see as amour that held true. So, your walls might be higher, and your broken edges might make those walls harder to scale. But a man who is afraid of bleeding for the woman he loves doesn’t deserve her in the first place. A woman bled to bring him into the world. It only seems fitting that he bleeds for the woman he intends to spend the rest of his days with.”
“Evander,” she whispers before laying her head against my chest.
Nothing else is said as she listens to the rapid thud of my heart. Eventually, she pulls back and gives me a sad smile before stepping into the bathroom and closing the door.
Gripping my hair, I head out to the living room, putting some space between us. I walk over to the window and stare out. The sky is gray and ominous, and if the clouds in the distance are anything to go by, rain is on the horizon.
Biting my lip, I think about what my end game is here. I’ll admit, I might not have been thinking clearly. My thoughts were all on making Avery see me—want me. If what just happened is anything to go by, she does. I never factored in her feelings for Hawk and Creed, though I should have. That’s what I do, after all. I analyze things, look at things from every angle until I have a full picture, and then I make my move.
Avery makes my best intentions go out the fucking window. I can imagine us together. I can see a future for us as clearly as if it were playing out before my eyes. But in each daydream, I notice something is missing in her eyes. She might be the woman of my dreams, but I’m not the man of hers.
