Chapter 34
34
“ Y ou turned up here with another man’s cum in your panties?”
Oh god. Shame floods my cheeks and my fingers curl against the floating papers that have scattered in every direction.
Hawke continues to examine the giant wet spot I know is there. I can feel the sodden material, and it’s so much more obvious, considering the skimpy lace settled between my ass cheeks. There’s hardly anything providing coverage over my core, and what does lie there is undoubtedly soaked through with the evidence of Grey fucking and filling me before depositing me here at the mansion.
The air crackles, sparking and ready to combust at any second. Hawke sucks in a sharp breath, and the longer he stands there staring at my exposed ass, with my ankles splayed wide, the more I writhe beneath his heavy palm.
I’m not embarrassed about having sex with another man before coming here. In fact, I’d gladly do it all again. What sends my pulse racing is that, on a certain level, I’m pleased Hawke is getting to see how the other two crave me so openly.
Screw him for the push and pull of whatever this fucking thing is between us. Right now, he’s getting a front-row seat to just how much I enjoy being with both Grey and Angel. Separately. Together. There’s no clear-cut definition of where our dynamic starts and finishes, and that feels right .
Except, this man has been part of that once before. I know what it’s like to have him join us, and I wish it were possible to erase that memory of how it felt to have him involved, because if Hawke has no interest in allowing anything more between us, I’d rather damn forget how his cock felt inside me. I’d rather not remember how it felt when he filled my mouth while the others took their pleasure from my body.
“What did you think would happen? Coming here like this…” He says those words slow, and measured. So weighty, I can feel every single syllable as if it drops onto my skin and coats me in a thick, honeyed layer of his inspection.
The press of his palm stays right there, planted in the middle of my spine, as I sense him crouching down to examine that massive fucking wet patch. Hawke reduces me to a squirming, panting mess as he drags a thick finger up my inner thigh, and wedges beneath the saturated strip of material.
I’m left biting down on my lip to prevent the gasp that wants to burst out of my lungs when that small motion brushes over my cum covered pussy lips. There’s no denying the slickness there from both my own arousal, and the evidence Grey left behind that has slowly and sinfully leaked out of me since leaving the house.
With a dark noise, he slides that finger out and I don’t know what the man is doing behind my back, but I hear him click his tongue disdainfully.
“What did you think you’d achieve, Poe? That I’d pull this pathetic excuse for a pair of panties to one side just like this and fuck you while you’re already stretched out and leaking all that evidence that someone else has taken this pussy? ”
Oh my god. I knew Hawke could be commanding, domineering, a downright prick, but hearing his quiet scolding is doing delicious things to my body I don’t want to dare acknowledge.
“No.” I try to bring my legs back together, but that only encourages him to kick my heels wider, until I’m stretched onto my tiptoes, without leverage anymore. “You certainly made it clear enough that you don’t want anything to do with me.” There’s a whimper I fail to disguise in my voice as his palm glides across the globes of my ass, and he gives one a rough squeeze.
It’s like he’s debating with himself, and the longer he stands there, the more it drives me out of my head.
“You want me to fuck the defiance out of you?” Jesus. The hard edge to his voice twists and churns heat low in my stomach, and my pussy clenches.
“I’d like to see you try.” Everything comes out almost a whisper. There’s too much begging behind those words. Too much pleading. I shouldn’t want this from him, and it doesn’t make any sense, but this right here is turning me on more than it has any right to.
I don’t want to be a docile little toy perched on a cushion at his polished boots.
Knowing he’ll be rough and demanding with me shakes everything I thought I understood about myself upside down and flips my world on its head. With Angel, he’s adoring and careful and treats me like a precious bird in his hand. When I’m with Grey, he whips me into a frenzy of succumbing to his filthy words and letting him reach in to take control of my brain as he talks me through every dirty fantasy.
But this? Everything about this is entirely foreign to me, and right now, Hawke is unlocking something in my brain that I don’t know if I want him to hold the keys to or not. If he does so, only to deny me, it’ll be merciless torture .
The heat of his palm skates across my bare bottom again. As if he’s mapping out exactly where he could leave another of those handprints I don’t want to dare admit how much I’m craving.
“I think you’ll be soaking my dick and clawing grooves in this wood with how hard I’ll make you beg for relief,” he murmurs, and it reduces me to a puddle. All resistance falls away, because I want that, and I want him, and it’s already the sweetest agony to have him treating me like nothing more than a hole for him to use however he wishes.
Running my tongue across the spot I’ve just indented in my lower lip, my voice cracks as I utter the words that are going to change everything.
“Make me, then.”
Hawke grunts out a curse, then moves with frightening precision. He doesn’t bother to strip my cum drenched thong off me, simply wrenches the thin string until it snaps. Before I can react to the force of that movement against my skin, one that feels as though it might leave a welt over my hip where the material pulled taut, one hand grips my jaw, and the other stuffs the fabric past my lips.
My muffled protests come thick and fast as I try to suck in deep breaths through my nose. Holy fuck. Holy fuck.
At my back, he palms both my ass cheeks now, separating them and looking his fill, and it turns me into a version of myself I don’t recognize. It’s depraved and absolutely has no business leaving me shuddering with anticipation of what he’ll do next. In all honesty, I don’t know if he’ll touch me, if he’ll do anything more than taunt me.
It’s thrilling and terrifying in equal measure.
“I could tie you up right here.” He muses to himself. “Have you spread out and dripping for whenever I want to use these holes to my liking.”
My blood pounds an erratic, desperate rhythm in my ears at the image that creates. Am I whimpering against the taste and scent of Grey against my tongue while another man stares at my exposed pussy and talks about tying me to his desk to fuck whenever he wants? Apparently so.
Why is that so hot?
“How greedy is your cunt, I wonder? Are you a little slut who came here ready to beg for another cock? Not satisfied with two… you needed another and don’t care when or where.” As he torments me with those coarse words, his fingers swipe through the mess between my thighs.
I’m already clawing for purchase because that contact, that tiniest brush of his fingers through my pussy, nearly makes me levitate off the desk. I have to work to get my breathing under control because it feels like I’m growing lightheaded with the unknown of what Hawke is going to do to me.
The real danger here is in him knowing how much I enjoy everything he’s doing. More so than is potentially good for my sanity once I walk out those doors. I don’t even know if my legs will function by the time this man has finished with me.
Hawke tuts as his fingers push into me, and I let out a pathetically loud moan around the panties in my mouth. “Absolutely soaked. This pussy is full of cum, and you expect me to touch you? I should stripe your ass red for thinking you could get away with that kind of behavior.”
How many times can I mumble, please, before it sounds truly pathetic?
Those two thick fingers wedge deeper and deeper, until my eyes roll back in my head. He begins to fuck in and out of me with slow, determined thrusts of his hand that leave my body shifting on the desk surface. It’s too good. I don’t know why or how, but those words combined with this kind of rough handling are everything I didn’t know I wanted or needed.
Apparently, I’ll gladly park my feminism at the door where these three beasts are concerned .
“This cunt doesn’t want to be empty, not even for a second. Feel how you keep gripping my fingers tight each time I try to slide out.” There’s a mocking tone to his voice, and it only serves to make my channel tighten further around him.
There’s no denying I’m absolutely a mess already. Drool soaks the material stuffing my mouth, and my body is a live wire of need.
As if he can sense just how much of a desperate slut I am for more, Hawke withdraws his fingers, and I hear the sound that sends a flood of relief through me. His belt clanks, and the rasp of his zipper causes goosebumps to flutter across my skin, because this time it’s not unhurried. In fact, he’s moving faster with everything now.
Another desperate noise comes from behind my gag when I feel the nudge of the plush head of his cock against my swollen entrance. Oh god. It all floods back with a ripple of pleasure sweeping along my veins. I remember how he felt the last time, how good it was sinking down on him, how I had to fight to take all of him while perched in his lap.
Last time, he made me take him.
This time, he’s taking me.
His hips press forward, pushing into me on a slow, slick glide that leaves my eyes rolling back in my head. I’m limp with the pleasure he’s edging me into, yet nothing Hawke has done yet has attempted to get me off. He’s simply allowing my desire to keep building until the point I’ll either combust or he’ll cruelly deny me anything at all.
Unfortunately for me, I’m apparently into that.
Just as his dick sinks all the way inside me and I feel my inner walls stretching to welcome him into my body, a noise cuts through my deafening heartbeat.
The ringtone of his phone makes my body jerk, and Hawke doesn’t even miss a beat. One heavy palm lands on my nape when I try to lift my head. He pins me against the desk and allows his length to stay fully sheathed. I’m wrapped around his cock, pulsing and rippling with the intense pleasure of him filling my channel as he answers the goddamn phone.
He. Answers. The. Phone.
“Greyson.”
Oh my fucking god. No. This is not possible. Grey is calling him? He knows I’m in here, but he thinks I’m kneeling on a cushion, being a perfect little submissive, dutifully taking my lessons. When in reality, I’m bent over Hawke’s desk with his dick buried so goddamn deep inside me, and my panties balled in my mouth.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and my fingers curl against the wood and paper because I don’t want to dare acknowledge the way my pussy just tightened around him.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of a phone call?” Hawke’s voice is steady, but I can hear it as he sets the phone down on the desk and puts it on speaker. I can hear the smugness hidden behind those words as he feels every moment my body grips him harder at how wrong this is, yet apparently leaves me gasping.
“Just heard from Ky, he wants to meet tomorrow to go over some logistics for the next event.”
The two of them start talking about things like security and coordinating guest lists, and my brain doesn’t register a single thing, all I can focus on is the way Hawke is leisurely pumping in and out of me.
That hand pressing me down slides from the back of my neck, dragging lower to settle over my spine, while the other holds my hip. He thrusts with the kind of slow, determined strokes that allow him to have a goddamn business meeting all the while he’s balls deep inside my pussy.
I’m losing it. I’m goddamn losing it. My body heats and soars, and the coil inside me winds tighter, but it’s nowhere near enough to get me off. The asshole he is, Hawke knows it too, because each time I clench harder, he eases off the pace and leaves me dangling in mid-air, simply unable to reach out for the release I so agonizingly want to plunge over the edge of.
“I’ll send through the client files,” Hawke says. “You can let Ky know I’ll call him later to brief the security team.”
“Sure.” Grey’s voice is right there coming from that speaker, and I don’t know how much longer I can go without making a single sound.
“Unless you want to come in here and collect them yourself?” The man behind me pushes in so forcefully I have to slam my eyes shut to stop myself from moaning.
“You’re not too busy?”
“Never for you, Greyson, you know that. What’s yours is mine, after all.”
Oh god. He’s fucking merciless. I can hear the challenge in his voice, and a shudder races up from my toes.
“I’ve got some business to finish up here.” In the background, I can hear some metal chains clanking as Grey speaks.
“So do I.” Hawke withdraws all the way to the tip, then shunts ruthlessly against my ass, and I feel his cock swell inside me.
I’m not going to make it. A slutty whimper climbs with determination up the back of my throat, and my fists clench and unclench in time with the rhythm of each pump forward.
“I’ll drop by when I collect Poe.” It’s official. I’m done. He won’t be collecting me at all because I’ll be nothing but a pile of ash. Reduced to a wisp of smoke rising from the spot where I’ve combusted into flames.
“You know my door is always open, Greyson.”
They say their brief goodbyes and end the call, but I don’t hear any of it. I’m floating somewhere on a sea of almost-pleasure and shame, struggling with the revelation about myself that being used like this is going to eventuate in an orgasm the likes of which I’ve never experienced before .
“Fuck. You’re gripping my dick like a goddamn fist.” Hawke grunts and intensifies his movements now. He curses beneath his breath as the force of his thrusts slams my hips against the edge of the desk. The only sound that fills the room is the slick sound of flesh slapping against flesh until that palm that was previously holding me firmly in place smacks against the desk as he lets out a groan.
“Christ. Princess. You need to come the fuck all over my cock right now.” His growl is urgent. Demanding. I’m so damn out of my head while sobbing around the material filling my mouth, that I’m already boneless when he snakes a hand to find my clit and presses firm circles to my aching bud.
I simply dissolve. My climax rears up and claims me with a sweeping tide that tumbles me head first into the deepest waters, throwing me forcefully into a rippling, shaking, messy orgasm that sinks teeth into me and pins me down.
Behind me, Hawke buries himself deep, and those curses flow freely as his dick throbs and pumps me full of cum. It’s hot and slick, and my skin feels damp with sweat after being kept on the edge for such an agonizing length of time. My brain has lost track of anything outside this room, all too easily forgetting there’s a world beyond him and his command over my body.
I don’t even know how long he remains there, slumped over my back breathing heavily. But it feels like an age before I start to descend back into my body. I’m floaty and giddy, and my head swirls with how intense that just was.
Hawke pulls out and the emptiness is a sensation I wasn’t expecting. Like I want him to stay there inside me, but I know we can’t. Then his strong hands scoop me off the desk, and I hardly register what’s happening. He ever so gently pulls the material from my mouth, massaging my jaw a little for me, then carries me into the bathroom, where all of this tension started to simmer in the first place before finally boiling over.
This man turns into the complete opposite of how he was with me just moments ago. He’s attentive and careful and sets me down on the vanity beside the washbasin. I’m almost struggling to remain sitting upright, but I watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he wets a cloth and then cleans me up. Hawke runs through every detail of checking on me, from taking a look at my hip bones that feel a tad on the tender side, to giving me some water to drink, and wiping away what I’m assuming must be a mess where my mascara has run down my cheeks.
Eventually, he seems satisfied that all the little things he needed to attend to are completed, and he finally pauses long enough to take a deep inhale. His eyes shine at me, sapphire-hued and tempting enough to get irrevocably lost in.
With an exhale, he rests a palm on either side of my hips. “Are you ok?”
I nod.
“Normally, I’d ask for your words, Poe,” he murmurs, and something hovers there, unspoken in his voice. “... but I fear I’ve lost sense of what I’d normally do when it comes to you.”
That’s when Hawke does the last thing I ever anticipated, or hoped for. He brings one palm to cup the back of my head and with a last final search of my eyes with his own, he brings his lips to mine.
Hawke Calliano kisses me with a softness and tenderness that seems impossible for a man like him. His mouth moves against mine with gentle, seeking brushes. There’s the slowest glide of his tongue against mine as we ever so softly make out, and I feel everything in that kiss. I feel all his regret, all his hesitation to let me get close, and I don’t know what any of it means, but I’m captured by the complexity of him.
All too soon, he draws back and rests his lips against my forehead. We sit there like that for untold shuddering heartbeats, with his fingers tangled in my hair and it’s like he needed that moment of pure tenderness, of unexpected intimacy, just as much as I did .
“Grey will be waiting for you.” He steps back and extends both hands to help me down off the counter, popping that bubble we’d been floating in.
“You’re not coming back to the house?” I venture, already knowing what his answer will be.
Hawke’s already shaking his head before I finish speaking. “Not tonight, princess.”
As I slip out of his office and make my way on unsteady legs, I can only replay the feel of his plush lips against mine. And instantly feel the pang of worry, an undeniable twinge of disappointment that might have been my one and only opportunity to have Hawke Calliano.