Chapter Sixteen #2
Then his fingers shifted. Only slightly. His thumb brushed beneath my eye, catching the dampness there, and the tenderness of that small instinctive gesture nearly undid me more than his fury had.
“Don’t,” I whispered.
His jaw tightened. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t touch me like that.”
His eyes darkened instantly.
“Like what?” he asked, and the question cut because he knew exactly what I meant. He only wanted to hear me say it.
I forced myself to meet his gaze.
“As if you still…” My voice failed, and I hated the weakness of it when everything inside me felt swollen with grief, shame, and want. “As if you still want me.”
A bitter breath left him, almost a laugh, though there was no amusement in it.
“Still?” he repeated softly. “You think that’s the word for this?”
Sense told me to move away. To put distance between us.
To remember every reason I had fought so hard to keep my life separate from his.
My back stayed near the wall, and Hayden stayed in front of me, all dark eyes, frayed restraint, and heat I could feel without touching him.
Some broken, shameful part of me wanted to hear whatever came next, even if it split me open beyond repair.
“You stood there today,” he said, his voice rough, “with my daughter in this room, tears in your eyes, and my name in your mouth, and you still think the problem is that I want you?”
My breath caught.
“It’s worse than that,” he said. “So much fucking worse.”
The confession loosened something inside me with a force that scared me.
My hands curled against my palms, searching for something to hold before I was pulled too far into him.
My heart raced again, but what moved through me was no longer fear alone.
It was memory. Hunger. Grief. Love in its ugliest, most helpless form.
“Hayden…”
He closed his eyes for one brief moment when I said his name. When he opened them again, whatever I saw there made my pulse stumble.
“I should walk out of here,” he said. “I should leave you with your silence and let you sit with what you’ve done to me.”
“Then go,” I whispered.
But the words came out wrong.
His mouth curved in that faint, terrible way again. “You don’t want that.”
I did not answer. Because I didn’t want it. And Hayden knew.
That had always been the danger with him. My voice could lie, but my body never did. He knew where I broke, what I could deny, and how long it took before silence turned into confession.
His gaze lowered to my lips again. The argument still hung between us. Tears dried on my skin. The truth had cracked open beneath our feet, yet that look alone made my pulse throb.
“When you looked at me like that tonight,” he said, “do you have any idea what that did to me?”
I could barely breathe. “No.”
“It made every smart choice leave my head.” His voice roughened.
“I came here furious, ready to tear the truth out of you. I knew I should walk out before wanting you turned into something worse.” His eyes stayed on my mouth.
“But one look from you, and all I could think about was kissing and fucking you until neither of us had a single fucking lie left.”
My breath trembled.
His hand slid from my cheek to the side of my neck, slow enough to give me the chance to stop him.
I didn’t.
A shiver ran through me, and he caught it. He always caught the things I tried to hide. Hayden knew how to read my body, how to find truth in a breath, a pause, a tremor I had not meant to give him.
His thumb moved once against my throat.
“You know deep down that you want me as much as I want you,” he whispered, his voice tinged with a dark edge.
“Don't try to deny it, because I can see the truth written all over your face.
Even if you beg me to stop, I won't, because what we both crave goes beyond mere words. This desire is insatiable, and I refuse to hold back any longer.”
The words cut too close to everything I had buried. I looked at him. The anger was still there, and so was the lust.
“I should,” I said.
His thumb moved again, barely enough to make my breath catch.
“But you won’t,” he replied.
The certainty in his voice made my eyes sting again.
Hayden claimed my lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into my mouth, tangling with mine in a fierce dance of lust and possession.
He slowly dragged his lips down my neck, grazing his teeth along my sensitive skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.
His hands urgently slid under my clothes, caressing and teasing every inch of my trembling body.
He took his time exploring my slick folds before thrusting two fingers deep inside my pulsing core, discovering the wet evidence of my arousal.
“You're so beautiful. I love how you respond to my touch, how your body craves mine,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “So desperate and wet for me but you told me yourself that you gave your tight little pussy to that other man, huh, Edwina?”
Unable to speak, I could only whimper and arch my hips, silently begging for more of his exquisite torture.
Tension coiled tightly within me as he began to fuck me with his fingers, pistoning them in and out, his thumb relentlessly circling my engorged, sensitive clit.
Pleasure built rapidly, my juices running down my thighs as I neared the edge.
Just when I was about to go over, Hayden cruelly wrenched his fingers away, leaving me trembling and aching desperately.
“Do you want me to continue?” Hayden asked mockingly, trailing a finger along my cheek.
I could barely think through the fog of need clouding my mind, but the word spilled out almost of its own accord. “Yes, please.”
Hayden shuddered, his arrogant control finally snapping. My pussy felt empty and aching, slick juices coating my inner thighs.