17. Hayden
HAYDEN
I can’t fucking find her.
My phone vibrates in my hand again, but it’s not my girl. It’s just another notification from Callum asking where the hell I went after storming off the ice. I don’t answer. None of it matters if I don’t know where Madison is or if she’s safe. She’s only in that little tank top and it’s cold as fuck out here tonight.
I stalk across campus, my steps quick and heavy. My body feels wired, my blood humming with anger and frustration.
Kirsten. Of course it was Kirsten. She gave Madison that jersey, knowing exactly what it would do to me. And I let it get to me. I lashed out at her like a fucking idiot.
I can’t keep doing this.
I changed out of my hockey gear in record time, barely bothering to pull on a clean hoodie and jeans.
I glance down at my screen, the call log full of unanswered calls and unread texts I’ve been frantically sending her since she walked out of the arena.
Madison, please answer me.
You’re not safe without me.
Please, baby. Let me apologize.
Nothing.
My teeth grind as I shove the phone back into my pocket. I’ve already checked her room, the café, and the library. I’ve been to every spot on campus she might’ve gone.
But I know her. I know how she thinks, how she moves.
The woods just off the side of where the vigil was held for our parents pops into my head. The place where we kissed for the first time. If she’s there, it’s because she wants me to find her. We’re supposed to be having a bonfire there after the game. I could be wrong, but I don’t think I am. My feet are moving before I can second-guess it. I know a shortcut through the cemetery, just past the woods.
The woods are dark except for the flashlight on my phone. It’s so quiet and it’s hard to believe she’s out here alone, but then I see her.
She’s leaning against a tree, her arms crossed over her chest, her face tilted up toward the sky. The moonlight casts a soft glow over her, illuminating her skin and making her hair shine like gold.
My breath catches, and for a moment, all I can do is stand there and stare.
She’s everything.
The anger, the frustration, the worry all melt away, replaced by something deeper, something raw and primal that claws at my chest and makes my entire body burn.
I move toward her, and her eyes meet mine as I reach her, and I see the flicker of defiance there, the challenge. She’s still mad at me for yelling at her, and she has every right to be.I can see it in the way her lips press together, the way her shoulders stiffen. I have to fix this. There’s no other option.
Without a word, I grab her, pulling her against me as my mouth crashes down on hers. The kiss is hard and demanding, my hands gripping her waist as if I’m afraid she’ll disappear if I let go.
Her gasp is muffled against my lips, her body arching closer to mine as I push her back against the tree. My hands find hers, pinning them above her head, and I grind against her, letting her feel just how badly I need her. There’s no more waiting. I wanted the first time to be perfectly planned, but it has to be now.
Her breath hitches, her chest rising and falling quickly as she whispers, “We’re both going insane. We need this. Just do it. The wedding is soon. Just do it now so we can get it out of our systems before we can’t anymore.”
Her words send a jolt through me, and I lean in closer, my breath heavy against her mouth. I slide my free hand up her stomach, pushing her tank top up and cupping her breast in my hand. God, I fucking need her like I’ve never needed anything in my life.“If you think the wedding will keep me from being inside you every fucking night,” I whisper, my voice rough, “You’re in for a fun surprise, princess.”
Her eyes widen, her lips parting slightly, and I don’t give her time to respond. I let her hands go so I can move quickly, tugging at the button of my jeans as I slide them down just enough. My fingers hook into the waistband of her jeans and panties, pulling them down in one smooth motion, exposing her to the cool night air. She steps out of them, and If I don’t get inside her, I’m going to actually combust.
I press my forehead against hers, my breath ragged, my body trembling with the force of holding back.
This is it.
I line myself up with her, my breath coming fast and hard, my entire body trembling with the need to claim her. When I push inside, all the way in one deep thrust, I lose myself completely.
She cries out, her body tensing against mine, and I realize too late how rough I’ve been. The sound of her pain cuts through the haze in my mind, and I freeze, buried to the hilt inside of her.
The tight, wet heat of her grips me, and I feel her body quiver as she sucks in sharp, shallow breaths. My stomach twists violently, guilt and possessive need warring inside me.
I drop my head to her neck, inhaling her soft scent, trying to restrain myself, but the feel of her nails digging into my shoulders only deepens the ache in my chest.
“Breathe, princess,” I whisper, and my voice breaks. She deserves so much better than this, and I know that. I’m on the verge of spilling inside of her after one stroke. I know this has nothing to do with the fact that this is my first time, and everything to do with it being her. I groan, and it’s nearly a fucking whimper as I pull back slightly, gripping her thighs and pulling her legs up to wrap around me so I can bottom out inside her. This is where I always want to be. Her chest against mine, legs locked around me while my cock twitches inside of her.
She exhales shakily, and I feel the tremor in her body as she tries to regulate the intrusion of my dick, pushing as far inside her as it can go. That instinct she has to mask her pain, to hold it all in wrecks me.
“I’m okay,” she whispers, her voice soft but steady. “It’s just really big.” She says it so innocently, like she has no idea what she’s doing to me.
I groan at her words, my cock throbbing inside her as her body adjusts to me. She’s so tight, her warmth wrapping around me like she was made for me.
But this isn’t how it should be.
I’ve spent so fucking long imagining this moment, replaying fantasies of taking her for the first time, and this isn’t it. She’s my princess. She deserves silk sheets and soft touches, hours of me worshipping every inch of her body until she’s come so many times that she passes out beneath me.
It shouldn’t be me losing control and fucking her up against a dirty tree in the middle of the woods. The third or fourth time? Absolutely, but not the first.
But even as the guilt claws at me, I can’t bring myself to pull out of her. Not when it feels like she’s trying to pull me deeper. Not when she’s gripping me so tight that I can barely breathe, her body fitting around me like a glove.
I can’t leave her warmth.
I won’t.
I pull out and press my hips forward instinctively, flexing just enough to feel the pressure of her fully surrounding me. The groan that escapes me is guttural and raw, a sound I can’t control.
“You took all of me, princess,” I rasp, my voice thick with reverence and awe. I might not be able to give her the first time I wanted, but I can at least talk her through this, praise her in the way she deserves. “You're doing so good, baby.”
My lips find her neck, brushing soft kisses against her skin as I try to ground myself in her. She arches into me, her chest pressing against mine, and I can feel the beat of her heart against my skin.
The words come slowly, pulled from somewhere deep inside me as I kiss her again, fucking her slowly, deliberately. If I go too fast, it’ll all be over and I’m going to have to spend the rest of my life grovelling for coming before we’ve even gotten started. “You’re such…” I pause, my lips grazing her neck, pulling all the way out. “A good…” Another kiss, one fluid stroke until my hips are fully grinding into her thighs. “Girl for me.”
Her breath catches, and I feel her sweet pussy tighten around my cock in response, the smallest movement sending little waves of pleasure through me. I kiss her roughly, my tongue flicking against hers. I love the way she tastes, and when she lets out a little whimper, I swallow it.
Every rational thought leaves my mind. My earlier resolve to take her home and do this the right way, the guilt weighing on my chest has all disappeared and has been replaced with my primal need to claim her, watch my cum drip down her soft thighs. The thought of collecting it on my fingers and pushing it back inside of her has me ready to freefall over the edge of my impending orgasm.
I move my hand from her thigh to find her clit. I need to make her come, and soon, because I’m not going to last. She’s so tight that even if I had jerked off ten times before pushing inside of her, it wouldn’t be enough to improve my stamina. “You feel so fucking good,” I growl, my hand coming up to wrap around her throat. “Eyes on me. I want to watch you come for me.” Madison’s eyes flutter shut and something comes over me. I thrust into her, getting the reaction I crave. She’s focused on me, giving me her full attention, and that’s the only fucking thing I want out of this life. I can’t slow down, not even when I hear her tiny whines. I know I’m being too rough, taking more than I’m giving her right now, but there’s nothing I can do to stop. I’m fucking her, giving her every emotion I’ve pent up, trying to give her time. She feels phenomenal, soft and wet in all the right places. Her body fits in my hands, just the way it was meant to. I lean into her touch, pressing my forehead against hers. The eye contact between us, has me feeling her in my fucking soul.
“Mine,” I growl, picking up speed. My hips have a mind of their own, trying to propel my cock deeper inside her than is even possible. I don’t want her to ever forget what it feels like to have my dick stretching her, claiming her. She’s fucking mine.
The distant sound of Kirsten’s obnoxious laughter echoes through the woods, and it feels like someone poured a fucking vat of ice water all over us. Voices follow, probably more people heading toward where we planned to have the after-game bonfire only a few hundred feet away.
Fuck.
A low groan escapes my lips, and anger surges through me. The thought of anyone walking over here, seeing her like this, her legs spread for me and her nipples out begging to be sucked has me raging and I haven’t even fully processed what’s happening.
I’d kill them. Every single one of them.
No one should ever see her like this. No one but me.
“Hayden,” Madison whimpers, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve stopped fucking her or because she’s afraid we’re about to put on a show for whoever decided to show up for tonight’s festivities. I flex my hips into her one more time, my abs flexing with the movement and I gasp at the pleasure that washes over me. It’s only then that I notice Madison’s lip is bleeding. She must have bitten down too hard, trying not to cry out. The haze is leaving my brain, and I realize how fucking brutal I’ve actually been. She’s too small, too delicate, despite the fact that she would argue that she’s not.
“Fuck,” I groan as I reluctantly pull out of her. She winces, her body tensing as I let her slide to her feet. My chest tightens painfully at the sight of her in pain. I glance down at myself, at how slick I am with her, and then I notice the red streaks. It makes me a monster to say this, but the sight has my cock harder than ever. My cock is way too big to have shoved inside her like that, without taking my time, without making sure she was ready.
The pleasure I feel from claiming her is warring with something sharp twisting in my chest. Real guilt, the kind that makes my throat tighten and my hands tremble. I’ve never felt this emotion for anyone ever, and in this moment, I realize why.
This must be what love feels like.
I don’t just want her, desire her, and want to claim Madison. I’m not just obsessed with her or infatuated.
The realization is a surprise, and I’m not sure what to think or do about it. This wasn’t the plan, but it explains why my chest felt like it was being ripped open when I couldn’t find her tonight. Madison moves, bringing me out of my thoughts and I realize that she’s trying to put enough space between us so that she can gather her clothes that I tossed on the ground. That won’t do at all. There will never be space between us ever again. I tuck myself back into my jeans, and I see the way her hands are shaking. I brush her hands out of the way and help her get her leggings on, tucking her wet panties in my back pocket. She doesn’t look at me, her face turned away almost like she’s embarrassed.
I press her back against the tree, keeping her close, my heart pounding as I try to figure out what the hell to say. She’s overwhelmed. This is the real her, confused, hurt, and raw.
It kills me because I’m the reason she feels this way.
I brush my hand through her mussed-up hair, smoothing it gently before cupping her chin. Her skin is soft under my fingers, her jaw trembling slightly as she exhales a shaky breath.
I whisper, my voice hoarse with emotion, “Look at me, baby.”
She doesn’t move at first, her gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder, like she can’t bear to face me.
“Please,” I murmur, my thumb brushing over her jaw.
Her eyes finally lift to meet mine, wide and shining with unshed tears, and the sight of her like this, so open, so unguarded, nearly undoes me. I want to blurt the words out right now, tell her that I love her more than I could ever love anyone. It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I know it’ll just push her away.
I say softly, my words rushed and uneven as I try to make her understand, “I lost control. I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.”
Her lips part, but no words come out until she says, “I’m fine, Hayden. It was going to hurt no matter who–”
“Me. I’m the only one who would ever touch you. It was always going to be me,” I practically growl. If she’s not upset with how rough I was, why is she sad?
Madison doesn’t meet my eyes when she says, “Where were you? You were here, with me and then… you were just gone.” She must mean when I realized that this is so much more than just me wanting her. I don’t have a chance to explain without it seeming contrived. “Did you just want to prove that you could fuck me if you wanted to?”
Her voice cracks on the last word, and it’s like a knife twisting in my chest.
I can’t breathe.
She thinks this was nothing to me. She thinks I don’t care about her.
I grab her by the neck, my fingers curling gently around the column of her throat to make her see the truth in my eyes.
Her gaze finally lifts to mine, and I see it.
The hurt. The confusion. The vulnerability she’s been trying so hard to hide.
A single tear slips down her cheek, carving a silent path over her chilled skin.
Madison doesn’t cry. Not when she’s scared, not when she’s angry, not when she’s overwhelmed. She never lets herself cry.
Except now.
And the fact that she’s shedding a tear for me makes my chest ache with something I can’t even name.
I lift my thumb, brushing it over her cheek to wipe the tear away. My touch lingers, and I lean in, pressing my lips to the damp spot, tasting her sadness and hating myself for putting it there.
I open my mouth to speak, but a flash of movement in the distance catches my eye.
Kirsten and Bethany.
Madison sees them too, and I feel her pull away, slipping out of my grasp like water through my fingers.
“Madison—”
But she’s already walking away, heading toward the bonfire, her back straight and her steps quick. Rage surges through me, because I fucked up. I’ve never felt this helpless in my life, and it’s infuriating.
Bethany steps closer, her expression hesitant, but I don’t stop to really look at her. My focus is locked on Madison as she moves farther away, but the words leave my mouth before I can stop them. She needs to know that Tristan told me what happened while I was on the ice.
“If you raise your hand to Madison ever again,” I say, my voice cold and steady, “I’ll gut you and toss you over a cliff.”
Bethany freezes, her eyes wide as she stares at me.
“Trust me,” I add, glancing at her sharply. “No one will go looking for you.”
I don’t wait for a response because I don’t care about anything that bitch has to say. I stalk after Madison because I need to make this right.