Chapter 27 #2
“No, I—” I start, cut off with the force of Kane’s next assault on my lips, kissing me so hard I can’t think of anything else but him.
He pulls back. “Don’t lie to me,” he growls while his right hand bruises my hip, the bit of pain taking me further. He’s holding onto me as if I’m the last shred of his sanity keeping him tethered to Earth. He makes thinking in this moment, let alone speaking, impossible.
I sit up straighter and face him head-on, staring into those hazel eyes.
“I’m not. I wore them thinking of you,” I confess, breathing heavily and panting with his slow movement and the pinch he delivers to my clit, causing a gasp to leave my lips.
“Because…even though you broke my heart, all I can ever think of is you. I go to bed thinking of you. I wake up drowning in dreams of you. You torture my mind every day,” I moan, pent-up lust mixing with anger at the audacity of him questioning me about other men when he let me go.
He doesn’t offer a response before he’s back on me, kissing me, his hands diving into the side of my panties, finally pushing them aside and sliding over my wet heat.
I should be ashamed that arguing with Kane turns me on, but I can barely think as he starts to circle that small bundle of nerves.
The heat in my stomach pulls tighter, and I start to move against his hand to encourage him to move faster.
He slips just one finger inside and feels how drenched I am for him.
“If this is all I get from you for now, I want to take my time. But feeling you again, I can’t wait any longer,” he rasps as he pulls back and lifts me slightly off the counter and rips my panties down my leg.
He shoves them into his front pocket and stares down at me as if he can’t imagine a better sight than my hair mussed, lips swollen and dripping for him.
“Fuck, Avery, do you know what you’re doing to me?
You make me fucking crazy, out of my mind with jealousy, batting those pretty eyelashes at some other man—who is lucky to still be breathing.
Touching you as if you’re his to touch,” he rushes out between breaths, hair messy and hands flexing as if he wants to go out there.
“As if he has the right to think of you at all.”
Unable to wait any longer, I rip at his pants, undo his button and slide his zipper down, pulling him free.
Just the sight of him hard for me—thick and heavy in my hand—has me on the verge of combusting.
I pump him up and down and watch his eyes roll back into his head with a soft fuck me falling from his lips.
We stare at each other, panting, and the look in his eye tells me he’s giving me the chance to say no and walk away. I know that no matter what, he would respect my choice and let me go…again. He would take every hit I give him, just to come back for more.
“Did your pretty cunt miss me?” He strokes my swollen lips with his thumb—the movement so similar to how he stroked my clit.
The smell of me on him makes the pressure low in my stomach riot.
“I bet she did. She’s dripping just for me.
I can’t tell you how hungry I am after last time.
There’s nothing I want more than to get another taste, but if I’m not inside you in the next two seconds, I think I might die. ”
He moves his hand up and down on mine, his cock hardening further in my hands. The tip is leaking, and my mouth waters as I imagine bending down and licking it up.
“And she’s going to take everything I give her, isn’t she? She’s going to take my cock like the good fucking girl she is,” he bites out as I pump his length up and down.
I watch as more pre-cum wets the tip and he rubs it over himself before putting that finger to my mouth. His eyes blow wide as I wrap my lips around it as if it were his cock.
“As much as I would love to see you on your knees for me, pretty girl, I can’t go one more second without feeling you squeeze the life out of my cock.”
I nod my head, unable to find the words for just how much I want this. I pump my hand a few more times before I see the last of his resolve finally snap and he pulls my hair at the nape of my neck.
He forces my gaze up directly into his as he steps into me, and my hand drops as he spits on himself.
With his other hand, he reaches up and gently grabs my face, forcing my mouth open before he leans down and spits in my mouth.
His hand on my neck forces my head down, and I immediately obey his silent command.
I spit on his dick, watching as a mix of us drips off him, glistening under the low lights as he lines himself up to my opening.
I brace myself against the counter and stare into his eyes as he slides into me.
His hand comes to my throat, grip tight but soft enough to feel my heart crack at the tenderness he holds me with.
A smirk forms on his face as he stares at his big, tattooed hand wrapped around my throat—the words pretty girl inked between his thumb and forefinger that wrap around me like a collar.
I’m so wet, it doesn’t take much before he’s fully seated inside me. My eyes fall closed and a groan makes its way out of my throat. It feels like coming home and I almost cry at how right this feels. As if Kane was made to be mine, our bodies molding together perfectly.
“Look at me,” Kane demands, husky as he slowly starts to move inside me.
He stares at me as he slowly brings his hands up my waist, pulling my top with them until my breasts pop out from under my shirt and he can grab fistfuls of them, groaning at the sight.
I’m braless under my crop top—the bra felt too restrictive earlier—and I silently thank past me for forgoing it while he stares at me.
He’s still inside me as the heat in my stomach becomes unbearable.
My hips try to move on their own, desperate for some sort of friction.
I look up to see Kane staring at me as if I’m the very reason he exists.
His hazel eyes are blown wide with a look of awe on his face.
I can feel his eyes drag down the side of my neck to the small butterfly tattoo I got last year with him—a symbol for the freedom I felt in that moment breaking free from the chains my parents shackled me to.
His gaze makes its way to my bare breasts, then down my stomach until he finally gets to where he’s fully seated inside me.
“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whimpers softly, making my heart clench. “Now hold on while I fuck every thought of any other man out of you.”
He pulls all the way out then slams into me. A cry leaves my lips as he moves at a punishing pace.
The bathroom fills with the sounds of us coming together—slapping skin, moans, and those beautiful soft grunts he lets out.
I wish I could bottle these sounds and take them with me.
I could live my whole life knowing I found true happiness once upon a time and be okay.
I feel selfish for not bothering to quiet the sounds I’m making, hoping the whole bar hears us.