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“I won’t hurt you. I promise my cock won’t go anywhere near you.”
She exhaled a long breath. “Okay…”
Gently, I spread her legs wide and, keeping my eyes fixed on hers, inched my thumbs toward her pussy.
Her chest rose and fell, her thighs shook, and her luscious mouth trembled.
But she didn’t tell me to stop.
Slowly, I slid onto the bed and settled between her legs. Bending, I cupped her heart-shaped face and kissed her, licking the corners of her mouth, and sucking on her lower lip.
She moaned and traced her fingers along my jaw.
Our kisses grew more urgent as she surrendered her tongue to mine.
“Good girl.” I kissed my way down her neck to her breasts. Then I sucked one of her nipples into my mouth. It pebbled and I tugged at it with my teeth before moving to the other nipple. I slid my tongue down her body to trace hot, wet kisses on her inner thighs.
She jerked away from me. “Pierce!”
I glanced up and saw the whites of her eyes. “You okay?” I held her gaze.
“I’m fine. Keep going…”
She was being so fucking brave. “Put your hands in my hair, love. It will calm you.”
Her fingers gripped my scalp, hard.
“You’re doing great,” I reassured her.
Her pussy was in front of my face. Unwaxed. Natural. And so fucking mine.
Except, someone had been here before me, I was sure of it, and I wanted to kill the bastard for hurting her.
“Try and loosen up for me, sweetheart. Breathe in and out. Slow and steady.”
She complied and, bit by bit, I smoothed my hands around the backs of her thighs until I reached her peachy ass cheeks.
Meeting with no resistance, I lowered my head and licked around her clit.
She stiffened again.
“Relax, baby, you taste delicious.”
“I do?”
“Bloody right you do. You’re fucking perfect.”
She gave a small quiver.
Taking care to avoid going anywhere near her slit—a pleasure I would enjoy at a later date—I latched onto her swollen nub and sucked it into my mouth.
She rocked her pelvis and tightened her fingers in my hair. “Oh,” she moaned. “This is…wow.”
I put pressure on her clit, at the same time reaching up and playing with her tits. Clamping down, I increased the pressure on her nub, sucking and swirling my tongue around it. Just to tease her, I let go and kissed the smooth skin of her inner thighs instead.
“Please…” she begged. “Don’t stop.”
Her words were like music to my ears. Pulse racing, I closed my lips on her and sucked until she squealed.
She quaked around my face, an orgasm shuddering through her. “Ahh.” She yanked at my hair so hard I felt the burn in my scalp.
I moved up her body and kissed her, aware she would taste herself on me. The fact that she didn’t recoil spoke volumes about her. Despite her condition, Hayley was a sensuous, sexual woman. I pressed my lips to the thrumming pulse behind her ear. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“You did well,” she breathed. “I…I…” She didn’t finish what she’d been about to say, and I didn’t press her. I switched off the light, pulled her into my arms and held her while she fell asleep. I closed my eyes, but sleep eluded me. I tried not to think, tried not to remember, but I couldn’t stop myself. Her words, “You did well,” had been the exact same words Mr. Phillips, my teacher, had said as he’d handed me my exam results that fateful day.
That day when I’d gotten into a fight outside the school gates with Danilo Ramos.
That day when Ramos wounded Mr. Phillips in the chest as he’d broken us apart.
The memory knifed into me, cutting deep like Ramos had stabbed the man who’d saved me from myself, and my heart fucking bled.
Hayley stirred in my arms and buried her face in my pecs. I kissed the top of her head. It was dark, but I could just make out the beauty of her cinnamon-colored hair spread over the pillow. I breathed in the womanly scent of her and the action soothed me.
The thought suddenly occurred to me that I was falling into a new addiction.
An addiction that went by the name of Hayley Wilson.
Fuck!The next morning, heat rose from the black asphalt and Hayley’s braid flapped in the hot wind as we walked across the tarmac toward the 747…the huge passenger plane converted into a private jet that CM had rented to fly ChiMera, Vanilla Sky and our entourages half-way across the word.
The flight to Auckland would take about thirteen hours, but, owing to the nineteen hours’ time difference we’d lose almost a whole day by the time we arrived. I pulled at my t-shirt. This would be the first time I’d flown long haul without the crutch of booze. The flight to LA from Buenos Aires didn’t count…there’d been enough alcohol circulating in my blood to fuel a rocket.
