Chapter 51
HAILEY
Oh god, he’s turning me into a monster.
Because how did we go from confessing my love to…to him begging, ‘Please fuck me’ ?
The emotional whiplash would’ve knocked the breath out of me if I wasn’t already shaking from the weight of his words.
But then again, maybe that was why it made perfect sense.
Maybe this was exactly what happened when you felt safe with someone.
When you finally trusted them enough to stop running.
But did the why of it really matter, though, when just hearing him say those words turned me into…
this . ‘This’ being the utter mess between my legs, panties soaked through and dripping with my arousal, and the beast prowling behind my eyes as I stared down at him beneath me, cheeks flushed and whimpering like a…
Like an eager puppy .
Shit. I was just as much of a pervert as he was.
The sheer look on his face alone—needy, smitten, so goddamn pretty —set something sharp and possessive sparking low in my belly.
I’d never thought that seeing a look like that on his face would ever do anything to me, but now my core was throbbing with an ache so painful, it felt like tiny needles pricking me right between my legs.
I wasn’t used to anyone giving themselves to me like that, looking at me like I was a safe place to fall.
And that, more than anything else, was what broke me.
He loved me. He said he loved me . I still couldn’t believe that part, even though he’d been the one to say it first. It kinda felt like I was balancing on the edge of a cliff, completely exposed. Terrified I might ruin it. That I might ruin him .
Unable to resist, I leaned down and kissed him, hard and fast and just as desperately, my heartbeat roaring in my ears, blocking anything else but the sexy groans he let me drink from his lips.
When I drew back, his pretty lips were red and swollen, spit-slick and kiss-bruised, parted just enough to let out these desperate, broken little sounds that went straight to my desperately throbbing pussy.
His hair was an absolute disaster—wild, tangled, the curls sticking out in every direction from my fingers yanking and threading through it over and over, and his pupils…
God, they were blown wide, so dark they nearly swallowed the blue of his eyes, making him look half-wrecked and half-worshipping as he stared up at me like I’d hung the stars.
That gaze unraveled me at the seams. All that control, all that distance I’d always wanted to keep between us, everything was nothing but dust now. Looking down at him now, seeing the way he was watching me like I was something precious, something worth waiting for... Christ, I was melting .
This was terrifying. Loving him. Letting him see me like this. But it didn’t feel like falling. Not at all. It felt like belonging. And I wanted to belong to him just as much as I wanted him to belong to me.
“Hey, Hailey—” He started to say, but I cut him off.
“That…fuckface, why won’t you…Why won’t you call me that anymore?” I asked him, my cheeks heating up, embarrassment pulling at the edges of my tone. Never thought I’d be the one asking to be called that pet name, but here we were.
Lively blinked at me for just a split second before his face broke out into that goofy ass grin that felt like I was watching the sun rise from the east or something.
Seeing it now only made me realize how goddamn much I’d missed it.
God, I was literally burning up from the inside, as if someone took a blowtorch to my insides and cranked it to full blast.
“Hailstorm,” he drawled that nickname that I’d thought I’d hated for the longest time but now it came out like honey dripping from his lips, and coupled with that goofy grin and the way his eyes never so much as swayed away from me, I—
Oh shit .
My breath hitched. My vision tunneled. And before I could even register what was happening, my body was locking up, toes curling, a violent, helpless tremor ripping down my spine.
“Oh!” The sound was a broken sob in my throat. My hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, just anything to hold on to as my hips jerked, grinding down uncontrollably against him.
It hit me hard , and pretty fucking fast. White-hot pleasure splintering behind my eyes, my entire body tightening, then unraveling, then tightening again as wave after wave of release tore through me.
Thighs shaking. Breath breaking. My mouth hung open, trying to form his name but all that came out were stuttering, choked sounds, even as I couldn’t break eye contact.
That stupid grin faltered, and wide-eyed wonder replaced it as his hands tightened instinctively on my hips. “Fuck.” His voice came out choked, near inebriated. “Did you just—?”
My cheeks turned scorching hot at the shock in his eyes. God, how mortifying.
“Shut up,” I gasped, catching my breath. I buried my face in his shoulder, willing the heat in my cheeks to stop climbing, but it only got worse when I heard his breath hitch like he was about to speak.
“No,” I muttered into his neck before he even got a word out. “Don’t say it. I swear, Lively, if you start gloating—”
“I’m not,” he cut in, voice ragged, but there was something different in it now. Something soft. Raw.
I blinked, heart thundering in my chest, and pulled myself up again to look at him. His grin was gone, replaced by something a little too close to awe.
“I can’t even gloat,” he said quietly, almost dazed. “I don't think I’ve ever been this happy.”
My heart lurched.
He let out a shaky laugh, dragging one hand up to cup my cheek, his thumb stroking just under my eye like he couldn’t believe I was real. “You just came… because of me .” He exhaled. “Damn, Hailey. Do you have any idea what that does to me?”
Cheeks still burning, my lips curved, “I guess I can hazard a guess.” The thick, leaking evidence was lodged right between my legs.
He smiled now. “Yeah. You can. We’re even now,” his eyes sparkled at my slow blink, “since I blew my load all over your hands first.”
This crazy…
“Shit,” I grumbled, trying to bury the ridiculous smile tugging at my mouth, “to think I used to really hate your guts.”
And just like that, the grin was back—wide and stupid and him . Like someone had flipped the lights on in his chest.
“And I’ve always wanted to rearrange yours,” he drawled, the words a velvety strip that made something low in my belly clench again. He bit his lower lip, seduction smouldering in his eyes as they met mine. “Can I?”
God help me.
I wasn’t even sure if I kissed him or if he kissed me; all I knew was that our mouths crashed together in a feral dance and there was no space left between us anymore. None. Not an inch.
“Off. Now.” I tugged at his shirt, tugging until he pulled it off over his head, and then my hands were shoving at my panties, fumbling, trembling. “Get these off me.”
“ Hailstorm ,” he whispered again, voice trembling, like he now knew exactly what it did to me now and it was ruining him even more than it affected me.
He made this helpless little noise, fingers scrambling to help, both of us so desperate we nearly tripped over each other trying to get them down my legs. They were soaked through, and when they finally hit the floor, the look in his eyes nearly undid me all over again.
“God,” he rasped, voice hoarse, breath shuddering. “My Hailstorm. Look at you. You’re perfect.”
His gaze dragged down my body like he was memorizing every inch, his mouth parting on a shaky breath when his eyes landed between my thighs.
Something in my chest stuttered at the way his pupils blew even wider, as if he’d just been handed something he’d wanted for so long that he no longer knew whether to worship or devour it.
“Up,” he murmured, voice rough.
I blinked at him. “Up?”
“Up,” he repeated, his hands sliding down to my hips, urging me backwards until the backs of my knees hit the mattress. “Crawl up, baby. Please.”
Baby . I hadn't realized how weak I was to hearing him call me by these pet names because now, I did what he begged for, shuffling forward on my hands and knees until I could reach out and literally grab the headboard. Now, Lively’s face was between my thighs, and my eyes widened with realization of his intent as his big hands coaxed me to spread open.
His gaze was locked between my legs like a man staring down his last meal.
He’d obviously chosen to devour me .
“Lively,” I gasped, “Are you serious?” My heart was pounding so fucking hard, I thought I was going to pass out.
But Lively, my thighs bracketing his face, just… looked , with a greedy glint in his desire darkened eyes.
“Hm?” He hummed, looking and sounding totally distracted.
Heart practically pounding in my throat, I croaked out, “Are you really going to—?”
His tongue peeked out to wet his bottom lip, slow and hungry; and my question cut off immediately, breath hitching when I realized he was literally salivating .
Oh my god . My cheeks flamed and a gasp escaped me. When his eyes flicked up at me at the small sound, I saw the pathetic hunger burning in his gaze, and it made my stomach knot and my thighs clench around his head instinctively.
His hands clamped hard on the backs of my thighs, spreading me wider, making me feel obscenely bare.
“You don’t know,” he moaned, voice cracking, “how many nights I’ve dreamed of this. My Ice Queen… finally taking her throne—” his lips brushed the swollen, dripping lips of my sex, breath scorching me, “—right here. On my fucking face .”
The words shattered something inside me, my lower belly fluttering so hard wetness dripped down onto his waiting mouth involuntarily.
The groan he gave at the taste was guttural—and then he snapped, pulling me down in one firm, caging motion until I was spread wide across his face, my pussy smashed flush against his tongue.
“Oh!” My back arched, fingers scrambling for purchase. I quickly found the tangled mess of his hair, and when I yanked, he groaned against me—the deep vibration shooting straight through my clit and lighting up my belly.
His tongue dragged thick and flat up my slit before plunging inside, curling, stroking like he meant to drink me dry. Every sound was wet, obscene.
“Thank you for the meal,” he mewled into my heat, voice muffled, reverent and filthy all at once. My hips jerked at the vibration. Then he did it again, wetter, hungrier: “ Fuck , thank you.”
Hearing him thank me for something so…so intimate was a different kind of control I never knew I'd enjoy until this very moment.
He was literally praying with his mouth, begging for absolution in the slick mess dripping down his chin.
I liked the sound of it so much that I squeezed his head between my thighs, a cry tearing out of me.
“Lively— shit .”
“Mm.” He groaned, sounding utterly self satisfied at the fact that he was pretty much suffocating on my sopping pussy. “God, you taste so fucking sweet. I knew you’d be perfect,” he babbled between licks, tongue plunging deep, curling, relentless . “More—fuck, I need it, need all of it—”
Oh hell, this man was intent on ending me, wasn't he? I couldn’t help my whimper, hips rocking helplessly against him, my body betraying me.
The way he looked at me only made me wetter, my body answering his stare as much as his tongue.
And that tongue worked against me with an enthusiasm that was almost reckless: broad strokes up my folds, slow circles over my clit, then deep, greedy dips that broadcasted how happy he was to taste every drop.
“ Lively .” My voice cracked on his name, the sound trembling out of me as my thighs twitched around his head.
He answered with a muffled hum, and my grip on his hair tightened without conscious thought, dragging him closer, even though he was already pressed so deep I could feel his nose pressing against my clit, stoking the pleasure even higher each time he moved.
But he didn’t come up for air, didn’t even blink away from my gaze. Just kept going, steady and relentless, like he’d happily drown between my thighs if it meant I’d fall apart on his tongue.
I tried to form words; a quip, a desperate plea, anything , but all that left my throat was a strangled sound.
“ Unh, fuckface ,” I damn near whined, the word breaking apart when he shifted his grip, one hand sliding under me to cup my ass and lift me just a little higher against his face.
And, god, the fevered gleam in his eyes was almost unbearable, because it wasn’t just lust there. No, there was a pitiful, open devotion in them that made me feel like an altar turned inside out.
My intimate complaint only made him squeeze tighter, arms like iron bands holding me right where he wanted me. My whole body felt wound too tight, my hips grinding shamelessly against his face.
Even then, his eyes never left mine. Even as his cheeks hollowed from the suction, his jaw flexing with the effort—he watched . And the hunger there made me realize how much of a beast I had on a leash underneath me.
The pleasure was quickly building inside me again. It was a hot, pulsing wave that spread from my pussy outward, flooding every inch of me until I was shaking so hard I could barely breathe.
His arms only tightened, holding me steady through every quake, every desperate roll of my hips.
He didn’t ease up or give me a second to catch my breath—just kept tasting me like he couldn’t get enough.
And he looked so filthily decadent doing it too: lashes damp, his whole face slick with my wetness and still, still hungry for more.
I gave him everything I had. A choked cry tore out of me as the orgasm ripped through every muscle, every nerve, shaking me apart from the inside out.
My thighs trembled violently where they framed his head, all my strength leaving me in shuddering bursts as he coaxed every last aftershock from my body with slow, languid strokes of his tongue.
When I finally came down from my second orgasm in the span of minutes, feeling spent and eager for more all at once; I found him watching me with kiss-bruised lips, a glistening chin, and the most satisfied grin on his face that made me want to challenge him.
So I said, “Did you enjoy your meal?” and watched as the blush bloomed down his neck.