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“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” I moan. I can’t get over just how fucking warm and soft she feels without the barrier of a condom. All of my common sense has been erased; all the warnings that I’ve given to myself and to her have vanished. I only need a few seconds, a few more thrusts into her eagerly waiting body, and I’ll stop.
I lift myself by stretching my arms below me, straightening them to gain leverage. I want to look at her while I’m moving in and out of her. Her head is lifted off the padded floor, and she’s staring at the spot where our flushed bodies are connected.
“Look into the mirror,” I say. I’ll stop after three more . . . okay, four. I can’t help but continue to move as she turns her head to watch us in the mirrored wall. Her body looks so soft and perfect, and fucking clean, compared to the black stains covering mine. We are pure passion personified, devil and angel, and I’ve never been more madly fucking in love with her.
“I knew you liked watching, even if it’s only by your own self, I fucking knew it.”
Her fingers press into the bottom of my spine, pulling me closer and deeper, and fuck, I have to stop now, I feel the pressure building from the bottom of my spine to my groin as I reveal one of her kinks. I have to stop . . .
I slowly pull out of her, letting both of us enjoy the lingering moment of pleasure. Her whines are quickly cut short when my fingers slide into her with ease. “I’m going to make you come now and then take you to your bed,” I promise her, and she smiles a dazed smile before looking back into the mirror, watching me.
“Quiet, baby, you’ll wake the others,” I whisper against her. I love the noises she makes, the way she moans my name, but the last thing I need is one of the cock-blocking Vances knocking at the door.
Within seconds, I feel her tighten around my fingers. I nip and suck at the nerve endings above her entrance, and she tugs at my hair, continuing to watch me fuck her with my fingers until she comes, gasping and panting my name repeatedly.
Chapter ninety-six
TESSA
Hardin’s mouth leaves a trail of moisture up my stomach and along my chest before he finally places a soft kiss on my temple. I lie there on the floor next to him, trying to catch my breath and relive the events leading up to this moment. I had every intention of having a serious conversation with him about his—no, our—lack of communication, but watching him angrily assault that punching bag had me gasping and moaning his name within minutes.
I lean up onto my elbow and look down at him. “I want to reciprocate.”
“Be my guest.” He grins, his lips coated with my moisture.
I move quickly, taking him into my mouth before he catches a single breath.
“Fuck,” he groans. The sensual noise causes my mouth to fall open too far, and he slips out, down across my tongue. Hardin bucks his hips off the floor to meet my lips again, pressing himself inside my mouth again.
“Please, Tess,” he begs.
I can taste myself on him, but I barely notice it as he moans my name.
“I’m not . . . fuck, I’m not going to last long,” he pants, and I speed up. All too soon he tugs my hair and lifts my head back.
“I’m going to come in your mouth, then take you to the bed and fuck you again.” He runs his thumb over my lips, and playfully, I bite down gently on the pad of his finger. His head falls back, and his grip on my hair tightens as I work my mouth on him.
I can feel his cock twitching, his legs stiffening as he gets closer. “Fuck, Tessa . . . so good, baby,” he groans as his warmth fills my mouth. I take it all, swallowing all he has to give. Standing to my feet, I wipe at my lips with one finger.
“Get dressed,” he commands, tossing my bra to me.
As Hardin and I hastily get dressed, I catch him staring at me time and time again. Not that it comes as all that much of a surprise . . . I haven’t stopped staring at him either.
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod, and Hardin turns the lights off, closes the door behind us as if nothing happened in that room, and leads me down the hallway. We walk in comfortable silence, a vast difference from the tension between us earlier. When we reach the part of the hallway just outside my bedroom, he stops me by gently grabbing hold of my elbow.
“I should have told you about that nightmare instead of distancing myself from you,” he says. The dim night-lights along the floor cast just enough light onto his face to allow me to see the pure honesty and softness behind his eyes.
“We both just need to learn to communicate.”
“You’re so much more understanding than I deserve you to be,” he whispers and lifts my hand to his face. His lips press against each of my knuckles, and my knees nearly buckle at the touching gesture.
Hardin opens the door and takes my hand in his as he leads me to the bed.
Chapter ninety-seven
TESSA
Hardin’s hands are still covered in rough black tape, yet they feel so tender wrapped around mine.
“I hope I haven’t worn you out.” He grins, brushing his taped knuckles across my cheekbone.
“No.” The majority of the tension that I was feeling in my body has been released by his fingers. However, the not-so-subtle ache for him is still there. It always is.
“This is okay, right? I mean, you wanted space . . . and this isn’t exactly space.” His arms wrap around me as we hesitantly stand in front of the bed.
“We still need space, but this is what I want right now,” I explain. I’m sure this doesn’t make much sense to Hardin, because really, it doesn’t make much sense to me, especially now, when his overwhelming presence is right here in front of me.
