Chapter 31
Leeva
I wake up to delicious pleasure. My eyelids slowly lift, and in the dim light, I see Hayes above me. His body spreads my legs, and he slides into me.
I’m wet and ready, so I know he was playing with me while I slept, making good on the free use.
But I panic at the thought that he’s entering me without a condom.
His blue eyes are dark and heated as he pauses, seeing my panic, then he takes my hand to feel the portion of his shaft that isn’t fully seated within me.
He’s wearing a condom. Relief floods me as I feel the latex with my fingertips.
Tears sting my eyes as he slides fully in. So many emotions are overwhelming me right now.
This is Hayes. My best friend. The man I thought didn’t want me this way. The man who had hurt me deeply when he tried to protect me.
The man I came back to forgive and then move on.
The man who ended up being the masked man I was with at Hedon. He stalked me to my hotel. Broke in while I slept. Ejaculated on me and rubbed it into my skin.
This is all sorts of wrong, but there’s so much that feels right about it.
“Hayes.” A sob catches in my throat.
I’m a swirl of contradictions. Emotional pain and physical pleasure. Disbelief and excitement. Panic and love.
He pauses his movements and wraps me in his arms. “What do you need?” He kisses away the tears that slipped onto my cheeks.
“I need you to make me forget. I need you to make me remember.” My voice cracks as my words are as contradictory as my emotions and thoughts. “I need you to…” My eyes find his in the dim light. “I need you to make love to me.”
I went to Hedon wanting to explore and discover the desires and urges I had been resisting, but right now, I don’t want or need the kinky, non-vanilla sex.
“Making love? I…I’ve never done that,” he admits.
Suddenly, it’s crystal clear that this is what I need—a part of him that no one else has ever had.
He had lost his virginity because I became Guerilla’s old lady.
He explored his hedonistic desires without me.
He lived in pain for years before I ran; pain that I unknowingly caused him by being with his brother.
Because I had no idea how he felt, and I was na?ve and impulsive, thinking that if he didn’t want me, then maybe the other Cartwright brother would be a substitute.
His gaze is deep and searing, peeling me apart to look right into my soul. He begins to move within me, keeping it soft and gentle, reverent, and he cups my face. “You were my first kiss.”
His mouth seals over mine before I can respond, shock and elation mixing together. I feel as though his action and this knowledge binds me to him in a way unlike before.
I was his first kiss.
Tears want to push forth again because my first kiss should’ve been his, too. My first time. My first everything.
Not how it all happened. Not with the ten-plus years we’ve been apart.
He enlisted and went to war because I ran.
I might not know that for certain; however, I always knew that Hayes had delayed enlisting so he could stay close to me, even if he never admitted it.
Back then, I had thought it was to protect me, because I was his best friend who had tied herself to his brother that he didn’t like or trust.
He could’ve been killed in the line of duty, and I would’ve lost him forever.
I only came back here to lay his ghost to rest and move on.
And if I stay, and we’re discovered, he can be killed because of me.
Angst and panic brew within me. Hayes senses it and, refusing to let it win, he deepens his kiss. He keeps his thrusts deep and slow, like he’s in this for the long, hard-fought battle, and he refuses to lose the war.
I concede; I let him conquer me.
And he makes love to me in the most intimate, perfect way possible. Each deep stroke peels me apart, piece by piece, until I’m fully exposed and laid bare to him. He sees everything within me; everything within me is his to take.
I grip him tight as I climax, terrified of losing him again, but at the same time feeling so complete.
He holds me just as tightly, pressing his forehead against mine, as he comes deep within me. And I mourn the thought that his cum filled the condom rather than filling me.
My emotions are starting to run wild again as my body comes down from my release. “Promise me you’ll leave me if you have to…if that’s what will keep you safe.”
He pulls back to look at me, staying inside me while he does. His gorgeous face quickly morphs from contented bliss to hard and dark. “Not a fucking chance I’ll ever leave you.”
“Hayes.”
He braces his weight on his elbows and grips my head with his hands. “I won’t ever walk away from you, little dove.”
His pet name for me hammers it home how precarious this happiness is.
I’m still his little dove. The stupid girl who got another Havoc Guardians’ tattoo on her, which makes her forbidden territory. And he’s Army, bound by their club laws, which, if he’s found guilty, even though Guerilla’s tattoo is no longer on my skin, would mean his death.
“Hayes, please—”
He thrusts into me, re-hardened again, and steals my air. Knowing what he’s doing, I try to push him off, but he’s an immovable mountain. He thrusts into me harder, and I see stars.
“Hayes, stop.” But my nails bite into his back, trying to hold him close.
“Free use.” He smirks, his eyes stormy. “Only thing that is going to stop me is your safe word, siren.”
He angles his hips, hitting a delicious spot deep within me, and tosses one of my legs over his shoulder.
Son of a—
Stars erupt, and I cry out, arching into him.
But if he thinks we’re finished with this conversation, he’s got another thing coming. He can’t avoid it, distracting me with amazing sex forever.
However, I’ll drop it for the moment.
He must sense my conceding the battle—for now—because he pulls out of me, pulling the used condom off his shaft, then flips me onto my stomach.
He yanks on my hips, pulling me up onto my knees while keeping my torso pressed down on the bed. Then I feel wetness slide down my butt crack.
“Hayes?” My question is cut off when he uses his cum from the condom to coat my back hole and eases the tip of his finger inside me. “Oh, God,” I choke.
“My siren is such a dirty, filthy girl,” he growls, working his finger into me. He then pulls it out to gather more of his cum to lubricate it before he works it back in. “Are you going to let me fuck you here?”
“No.” I gasp, sounding very needy, but I see my opening. “Once we have a proper conversation about keeping you safe… Hayes…” I moan as he does something that shouldn’t feel as good as it does. “Then you can,” I finish, almost incoherently.
“You think you can bargain with sex?”
I moan again as he reaches around to play with my clit. “Yes?”
I’m trying to form a clear thought, to speak actual words. To not prove him right—that I am a dirty, filthy siren who thought she could bargain with sex. But I know the only way I’ll win this right now is if I use my safe word. But with that solution, neither of us wins.
And oh, god, I want the orgasm that’s building within me.
But we’re definitely finishing this conversation.
Later.
I push back against him as he moves his finger in me.
“That’s it, beautiful.” He leans over and bites my shoulder, hard. “Fuck, you’re stunning, working yourself on my finger. Fucking it into your ass.”
His vulgar, filthy talk is going to be the end of me.
“Imagine this as my cock. How it’s going to feel as your ass stretches to take me here.”
I’m trying to talk—maybe to agree, maybe to disagree, I’m not entirely sure—but all that comes out are incoherent groans and animalistic sounds.
“I wish we had lube so I could prep you properly.”
Oh God, does UberEats deliver sex toys and supplies?
I’d laugh at the thought, but as it turns out, an orgasm wallops me out of left field, and I come like a rocket.
“Hayes!” I scream, my head and torso lifting off the bed, and my back bows as he assaults my clit and pushes his finger deep in my ass, just holding it there. Every wave, every contraction that squeezes my walls makes me aware of him inside me.
My body sags, then collapses onto the bed, and Hayes is there, kissing me deeply and passionately.
I reach for him and grip his cock. Then he lifts my hand to his mouth, spits in my palm, and guides it back to his shaft.
My eyes damn near roll back in my head at the crude, filthy act, and damn it to hell, do I want him to spit on my pussy before he hammers his dick into me. Bare.
I have enough presence of mind to keep those thoughts to myself, though. Instead, I stare at his gorgeous, beautiful face as I work his gorgeous, beautiful cock.
He wraps his hand around my nape, holding me close to him, and pushes two fingers into my drenched pussy. The sounds of my wetness, mixed with our guttural gasps and moans, and me using his spit and my own arousal to keep his shaft slick is dirty as hell.
But doing all that while staring deeply into each other’s eyes? Soul-connecting and soul-completing.
“Watch me come all over you,” he orders roughly.
I look down and watch as cum spurts out of his cock and hits my stomach.
“I love seeing my cum on your skin,” he groans and grunts as he paints my skin. “The only thing I’d love more is to come deep in you and watch it drip out of your soaked cunt.”
He smears his cum over my lower belly, getting dangerously close to my pussy. Holding my gaze, making sure I’m not going to spiral into panic, he rubs his cum-coated fingers over my mound.
He doesn’t push his fingers and cum into me, but he gets close.
Frantic panic leaps up with me, fearful that I’m going to get pregnant from this act. But I work on calming myself, remembering that I’m on birth control. That I take it religiously, every day, at the same time.
He keeps me locked in his gaze as he slowly re-wets his fingers with his sticky cum and moves to my entrance. My heart thunders, but I don’t safe word or tell him to stop.
Slowly, so achingly slowly, he pushes his coated fingers inside me. And the sound he makes…it ruins me. The only thing I want and need right now is his cum inside me.
“Again,” I beg.
He drags his fingers through his sticky cum on my skin, transferring my wetness there before pushing them back in. He repeats this multiple times, and the thought of him fucking his cum into me sends me spiralling off the cliff.
I come for the third time, a sweaty, sticky mess.
As we collapse onto the bed and he hauls me into his arms, tucking me into him, each nook and cranny of him fitting perfectly with each nook and cranny of me, I know I’ve re-found my home.
With him.