7. Kelsie
Kelsie
My hands are getting clammy as my nerves betray me.
I’m about to bang the man of my dreams. Oh my God. Hayes is right here, standing in my bedroom. Just like in my fantasies, he’s looking at me like I’m a meal waiting to be devoured.
Is it too late to take a quick shower and freshen up a bit? If he got his mouth anywhere near me, I can’t guarantee I’ll taste very good.
Speaking my thoughts, he rumbles with a chuckle. “Don’t worry about it. If I’m going to be honest, I’ll want you, whatever state you come from, Kelsie. Even now…” He inhales slowly and squeezes himself through his jeans, hinting at what is waiting for me. “I’m dying to get a taste of you.”
He doesn’t get embarrassed saying something so willingly with his chest. I don’t know how he does it.
I feel like I’m burning up inside. To the point where I’m worried about overheating.
Slowly, he makes his way over to my bed. Taking in the floral pattern of my blankets, he snorts. If he takes the time to actually look around my home, he’ll learn all sorts of things about me, I’m sure of it.
When his hands move to his belt, I’m no longer worrying about what he’s thinking about as he takes in my personal space. Realizing that he’s undressing, I fumble to keep up with him.
Without the time to get all shy, I shove off my jeans and hear him make this choking sound. As air nips at my skin, the heat behind his stare helps keep me warm.
“You’re sure you want me?” Words coming out like gravel is stuffed in his throat, he takes in my body in disbelief. I haven’t even taken off my bra and underwear yet.
Letting out a laugh, I nod. “ Yes. ”
If he keeps asking, I’ll be the one who gets impatient. Knowing me, I’ll jump on him without thinking and risk hurting him. I’m not exactly light, either. The thought of crushing him under my eagerness sends a flicker of guilt through me, but it’s drowned out by something far hotter.
Then, like he’s just remembered himself, he finally moves. His belt gives way with a sharp click, followed by the rough shove of denim down his hips. A quiet hiss escapes him—pain or impatience, I’m not sure—and his boxers go with them, leaving nothing between us but air and hunger.
I’m not looking at the scars. Not really. My gaze drags lower, past the pale, jagged lines, and locks onto the thick length hanging heavily between his thighs. His hand wraps around himself, giving a slow, deliberate squeeze, and my breath stutters.
I want to be the one touching him.
As I run my tongue along my bottom lip, Hayes magically becomes a mind reader.
“Don’t even think about it. I’m already fighting a war with you standing there like that.” Sighing as he moves onto my bed, I watch in amazement as he spreads out.
As he settles onto my bed, stretching out his limbs, I’m getting more and more lost in him.
The way his body moves—controlled, deliberate—betrays years of discipline, even now.
His muscles are still defined, though time has softened their sharpness just enough to remind me he’s got a decade or two on me.
And yet, the broad planes of his chest, the corded strength in his arms, the way his stomach tenses as he shifts… I’m in awe.
If this is what he looks like now, I can’t imagine how he must have been in his prime. Military days had carved him into something relentless, I’m sure of it.
Reaching behind me, I squash whatever self-conscious thoughts prick up at the difference of our physiques. Unclasping my bra, I let it fall from my chest.
Hayes doesn’t speak as he takes me in. His eyes never waver, only following the motion of my hands. As I hook my thumbs into the band of my underwear, I wet my lips before pushing the fabric down my thighs.
Okay. I can do this.
Hearing him curse under his breath, he shakes his head in disbelief.
Approaching the bed to join him, I scoff. “If you think about asking if I’m sure I want you again, I’m going to suffocate you with my pillow.”
“I’d rather you use your thighs.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement before he lies back. His hand brushes his chest. “Come here. I want to get a taste of you finally.”
Now resting on the bed, I don’t move closer, confused. “Wait, what do you want me to do?”
Shamelessly, his eyes flicker to my thighs. “I want to get my mouth on your pussy.”
My stomach clenches at the confidence behind his demand. When he taps his chest again, I put together his demand. Oh, no. No .
I’m going to suffocate him. No way. I will not murder the man I love just because we’re both turned on.
“Hayes, I’m not very light—”
“Trust me,” he interrupts, voice rough. He motions toward me with his hands, urging me to do as I’m told. “Don’t make me beg.”
A nervous laugh escapes me, and my eyes drift toward his cock. “Fine. But I want to taste you, too.”
He curses again, his brows pinching together as he considers my stipulation. Soon, he nods.
“Whatever it takes. I’m dying, here.” Reaching out for me, he tugs me right where I need to be.
Letting him maneuver me into place—knees bracketing his shoulders, my weight carefully balanced, I suddenly feel more exposed than ever. The second I hover over him, his grip tightens, dragging me down until heat meets his mouth in one slow, deliberate lick.
Hayes Foster is an impatient man. He’s also on a mission to make me fall apart.
Panting against his hip, I hardly even get a chance to take in his cock before his tongue is plunging inside, tasting me at the source of my heat. Despite jerking at the contact, his fingers dig into my body, holding me in place.
A moan spills from my lips as his tongue drags over me slowly and deliberately, and for a second, I lose all thought. My hips jerk against his mouth, but I force myself to focus, blinking through the haze of pleasure.
Then I see it—his cock, thick and flushed, straining between us. My fingers curl around him on instinct, and the heat of his skin sears my grip. Even like this, he’s relentless. I squeeze him, relishing the way his breath hitches, the way his entire body tenses beneath me like a live wire.
His hips buck into my hand, and I watch, half-lidded, as the glossy head swells under my touch. Precum beads at the slit, slicking my strokes, turning each drag of my palm into a blur.
I want to taste him, I do. But when he sucks my clit between his lips, I’m seeing stars.
“You’re making this hard.” Another moan escapes me as his body vibrates with a chuckle. I can’t be mad, not while I’m suddenly feeling the stretch of something new.
He’s working a finger inside while his tongue remains where I’m most sensitive.
“Kelsie, I want to come just from tasting you.” Hayes’ voice is wrecked, his breath searing against my thighs. “Trust me, you’re making this impossible.”
The words unravel me. His tongue drags slowly and filthy over my clit, then flattens in broad strokes as he crooks two fingers inside, stretching me just shy of too much. My hips jerk, but he pins me down with his free hand, holding me still for his mouth, like I’m something to savor.
I can’t focus on giving him pleasure. Not while he’s being ruthless.
I whimper, my grip on his cock faltering as pleasure riots through me. Every lick sends sparks up my spine, every suck pulls me closer to the edge. My thighs tremble, toes curling into the sheets as I grind against his mouth, chasing it—
Then his teeth graze me, lightly, and I break.
“Hayes—!”
My orgasm crashes without warning, a white-hot wave that locks my muscles tight. I arch, gasping, as he works me through it—tongue relentless, fingers pumping—until I’m shuddering, oversensitive, my hands fisting in the sheets.
Only then does he slow, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh like a promise. “That,” he rasps, “was fucking perfect.”
“That was cheating.” Fighting not to jerk as my walls twitch around nothing, the pleasure simmers. “You didn’t even let me get my mouth near you.”
Carefully moving off of him, I catch him grinning. Looking so pleased with himself, he makes my heart soar, confirming my feelings for him.
I love this man. I have no doubt he loves me just as much.
“I won’t deny your claims.” He shifts so he can sit up against the headboard. “It’ll never be about me with you. Any chance you’ll let me make you feel good, I’m going to go all the way out. Every single time.”
I shiver at the promise in his voice, even more when his hands find his thighs. He pats his legs, offering me a better place to sit.
“Are you satisfied, or do you want to keep going?”
Answering his question by crawling in his direction, my thighs tremble.
“I don’t have a condom. You?” His brows furrow deeply as I shake my head. “We can wait if you’re worried—”
“Hayes.” I drag his name out as I settle onto his lap.
Testing my weight, then melting into him when I’m sure I won’t hurt him, I grind my sensitive nerves against his cock. His body is solid beneath mine, all heat and hard lines, and the last threads of doubt unravel.
“You’re the man I want.” My voice drops, fingers tracing the scarred plane of his chest. “If something comes out of this…” I pause, my breath hitching as his grip tightens. “You’ll stay at my side. Won’t you?”
No hesitation. His hands seize my hips, possessive and sure, yanking me flush against him until there’s no space left to question.
“You’ll have to unpeel me from your side if you ever want alone time. After this, you’re mine, Kelsie. You don’t need to ever worry about me leaving. You’ll be stuck with me.”
Shivering at the promise in his voice, I nod. “Ditto.”
As his expression softens, his hand fits between my thighs once more. With one hand lifting me onto my knees, the other grips at his cock.
“There are better ways of doing this, but this is easiest on my body. Hope that’s alright.” His words turn into a mumble as he parts my folds with his slick tip. His jaw flexes as he meets my entrance. “If anything is going to take me out, it’ll be this.”
Reaching for his face, I cup his beard and kiss him. Learning as I go, I know how much of a distraction a kiss can be. As my tongue finds his, I start sinking.
The stretch burns—a sweet, searing fullness that steals my breath. I bite down on a moan as I sink onto him, inch by torturous inch, my body trembling with the effort to take him slowly.
His grip on my hips tightens, fingers digging into flesh like he’s holding back from slamming me down all at once. When my thighs finally meet his, the shared groan that tears from us is raw, relieved.
“See?” I pant, dragging my palms up the sweat-damp planes of his shoulders. My voice is wrecked already. “Not so bad.”
He barks a laugh, rough and strained, before his forehead drops to my collarbone. “You’re killing me.” His breath scalds my skin, his words fraying at the edges. “I feel like I’m suffocating.”
I know what he means—the air is thick with the scent of us, with the unbearable rightness of how we fit. Testing the shift of my hips, I roll them experimentally, and the pain splinters into pleasure, sharp and bright. His choked gasp is a victory.
The rhythm builds like a storm, frantic and inevitable.
His hands lock onto my hips, guiding me harder, faster, until every drag of him inside me sparks lightning down my spine.
I can feel him everywhere—in the bite of his fingers against my skin, in the ragged way he gasps my name, in the way his body bows taut beneath me like he’s one breath from snapping.
“Look at me,” he grits out, and when I do, his eyes are black with want. “I want to watch you fall apart.”
It’s the permission I didn’t know I needed. Pleasure crests, brutal and sweet, and I shatter with a cry, my nails scoring his chest as the waves crash through me.
He follows—not with a groan, but a guttural sound, torn from somewhere deep in his throat. His hips jerk up, driving himself into me one last time as his body locks tight beneath mine. I feel the pulse of his release.
Hot and insistent, spilling so deep it’s like he’s branding me from the inside out. His forehead moves to mine, his breath ragged against my lips, fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise—like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go.
I’m not going anywhere.
For a long moment, there’s only the sound of our breathing, the stick of sweat-slicked skin, the aftershocks still trembling through my thighs where they hug his.
Then, he pulls away before softly brushing my lower lip with his thumb. For a moment, he looks at me like I’m everything.
He skillfully continues to steal my breath away.
Kissing me one last time, his eyes soften.
“Once they clear up the path to the mountain and I get my truck fixed, come up to the mountain with me. Let me take care of you.” His eyes hold mine, and I can see the vulnerability and worries of rejection.
As if.
“I’ve been dying to know where you live,” I admit, maybe a little too eagerly, shifting against him.
The movement draws a twin groan from us both, and I grin, already addicted to the way he feels inside me, to the way his body answers mine.
“We’ve got all afternoon, right? So… how long until you’re ready to go again? ”
Hayes shakes his head and squeezes my hips. “How about we reheat that coffee and eat something? Let me regain some energy first. Otherwise, I’ll never be able to keep up with you.”
With a nod, I crawl off of him and watch in amazement as he gets up. Falling in love with him more and more with every step he takes toward my door, I imagine what it’ll be like once we’re together in his cabin.
Mornings like this are going to become a regular occurrence.
Turning toward me, he cocks a brow. Standing there in his glory, his mouth quirks up. “You coming?”
Nodding my head, I don’t bother swiping up my clothes. His eyes contain the same amount of hunger that’s always been there. Hunger, I haven’t noticed until recently.
Something tells me we won’t even make it through cooking a meal before he’s on me again.