Page 68 of Hexed & Hazy

Holy shit.

“I—is that what you want?”

She nods and presses her thighs together—too sensitive there, I guess. I get the memo. And she lets go of her breasts just long enough to wrap her fingers around my cock.

Rowan wants me. Really wants me. This isn’t a dream.

She’s come countless times already, and she still wants me.

I straddle her chest, and she’s never looked as beautiful as she does like this. Running my fingers over her hair, I sigh as she takes control, pushing her breasts together and guiding my length right where she wants it.

Her breasts wrap around me, and I fuck slowly, my eyes rolling back from the sensation. Pre-cum leaks from my tip, and she lifts her head, licking it off. I shudder.

“Ro…” There’s a plea behind my words. “If you do that, I’m going to⁠—”

Her smile is devious. “Oh, we can’t have that.”

I push myself again, through the valley of her cleavage. I never thought I would be close to coming like this, but with her, I am. When she opens her mouth like she’s waiting, I’m gone. There’s no warning. I groan as cum spurts out, splattering her chest and face. She keeps her mouth open, looking up at me with an innocence that pushes me over the edge.

“Fuck,” I grunt, lowering my head. “I’m so sorry, beautiful.”

“Don’t apologize. That was…”

Her breath catches as I clean up my arousal, licking every drop from her breasts, her chest, her face.

She gasps, somewhere between arousal and laughter. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning you up.” I press a sweet kiss to the side of her face.

And I kiss her, tasting myself on her lips, and I know…

There can’t be a hex. Not anymore. Not if I’m allowed to be with Rowan. Here. Like this. And after years of keeping my eyes closed, I see her now.

And I’m gone. I’m hers, and maybe I’ve always been. Maybe she crawled into that soft space behind my ribcage long before I realized, and that was the real hex—the thing that ruined every other relationship.

Suddenly, I’m not so mad about it.

Chapter 22

Rowan

It feels surreal when Seth rolls onto his back and pulls me on top of him. I close my eyes tightly and bask in the moment—the radiating warmth from his body, his rough fingers digging into my hips, and the soft kisses he plants onto the top of my head. If I look at him, if I say anything, I’ll ruin the moment, and I still don’t know what this is. He spent his night trying to get rid of the hex himself, for me, but was it enough?

“You’re overthinking,” he whispers into my hair.

My heart skips a beat. I spend most of my life ruminating on things I shouldn’t, but it’s rare for anyone to point it out… to care. To see me.

“Oh?” I plant a kiss on his chest. “How can you tell?”

“I know you.”

He knows me well enough that he can read my mind without using the cues from my face, apparently. I finally lift my head, meeting his gaze even though it feels like a tender thing to do. With my chest still pressed to his, there’s no way we could get closer.

“I’ve thought about this for a long time.” I chuckle. “Well… not exactly this.”

“What do you mean?” He tucks a piece of my hair—which is half-hanging over my shoulders, the style ruined—behind my ear. “You never daydreamed about me tittyfucking⁠—”

“Don’t ruin the moment.” But I’m laughing. It’s so easy to let go of my worries when I’m with him. He makes me laugh more than anyone else.