Chapter Twenty-One #2
His chin, dusted with dark blond scruff, was shining with my cum, his lips plump and dark.
He stood, giving me a view of his body as he stepped out of his jeans.
He was more perfect than anything I’d ever seen, ever known.
His body wasn’t sculpted by the gods, but by a goddess who knew what a woman like me needed.
His body was broad but not lean. His ab muscles were packed but not cut, not defined.
His arms were defined, huge, just like his legs, strong like the trees in the forests, weathering every storm.
His abs were dusted with the same hair covering his jaw, dark blond curls trailing all the way down, surrounding his thick, beautiful cock.
I watched, holding my breath, as he stroked roughly.
His abs tensed as he tried to control himself.
Blinking, I lifted my eyes to his. “You’re the most perfect creature I’ve ever seen, Hayes Mitchell.”
“Jesus,” he bit off, his head falling back for a moment. When he looked back at me, his eyes were on fire. “Is this what you need? To see me come apart for you?”
I nodded, my hand going to my clit, rubbing it in circles. “I never got to see all of you,” I confessed.
He groaned and leaned over me, bracing his free hand beside my head, still fucking himself. I looked down, watching our hands move in time together, both of us pleasuring our bodies for each other. A broken moan left me as I took in the sight.
“That’s it,” he praised. “That’s it, Margo. See what I see.”
I lifted my head, brushing my lips against his, my knees touching his sides. “What do you see?”
“Perfect imperfection,” he whispered, groaning at the end of it.
We held each other’s eyes, chasing it, the truth we needed. “Hayes,” I breathed, my soaked fingers circling faster, harder.
“Gonna come apart for you, baby,” he rasped, his hips pumping into his hand now, the tip of his cock hitting my mound with every thrust.
“Come apart,” I urged softly, cupping his face. “Give me all of you and I’ll give you all of me.”
His face twisted in a mix of agony and pleasure.
His eyes closed, and suddenly, my hand was slapped away, my hips yanked up as he rose back up and slammed his cock into me.
I cried out, my climax hitting me as his thick cock stretched me.
My walls tightened around him, clamping down as my body shook, trembling with wave after wave of pleasure.
“Christ, this cunt,” he pushed out, his fingers flexing at my hips.
He didn’t give me any reprieve, not even a breath before he pulled out and thrust back into the hilt.
My moans filled the room in time with his harsh grunts, our skin slapping together in a rushed melody of desire.
He kept my lower half in the air, fucking me with abandon, staring down at our connection as if it was the most precious thing in the world.
I stared at him, savoring the way he tilted his head to the side, his eyes studying the way he fucked me.
“The way you take me, Temper,” he murmured through his harsh breaths, “drives me insane.”
I nodded, reaching for him. “I need you,” I rasped, my breath hitching with the slam of his hips.
He fell on top of me then, his arms sliding under me, his cock still inside. My legs wrapped around his waist, my arms around his neck, and I held on for dear life.
With a low growl, he managed to keep our bodies connected as he moved us up the mattress.
My head sank into the pillows as he buried his face in my neck, his hips slowly pumping.
The rhythm was foreign to me. Sex, to me, had always been about pleasure.
Helping the other person find theirs as I found mine.
Sex with Hayes had been the opposite. He didn’t need my help; he was more concerned about me than him.
But this—this slow and tender pace allowed a tightness to manifest in the center of my chest, where his heart hovered above my own.
“Never thought I’d be here again,” he murmured. “Never thought, after having you once, I’d need you this much.”
“Don’t leave me again, Mitchell,” I whimpered, my nails scraping against his scalp.
He didn’t change his tempo, even though I needed him to. I needed him to fuck me. I could handle being fucked, but I couldn’t handle being cherished. Not like this. Not by him.
I swallowed, tears blurring my view of the ceiling fan.
The truth, laced through the warm morning sunlight, illuminated us. For the first time in my life, the truth didn’t feel like a heavy burden that would drag me down.
It felt like salvation.
It felt like freedom.
Hayes wasn’t fucking me—he was making love to me.
His words, a whisper in the morning light, tattooed themselves on my skin, into the wings of my butterfly. “I’ve never needed anyone before.”
Another admission.
Another lie was erased.
There were no words I could say. All I could do was kiss his shoulder, close my eyes, and hope he’d give me more.
His lips pressed soft kisses up and down the side of my neck, over my jaw, my chin.
I stared up at him as he shifted again, resting on his elbow, his other hand cupping my breast, savoring it.
Our gazes were locked, our breaths soft and rushed, colliding with each other.
Something was building. It was different. It wasn’t just pleasure, but a promise.
A promise of safety.
A promise of acceptance.
A promise of truth.
A promise of love.
It hit me all at once. The fear. The lies. The avoidance. Things that I had buried in order to protect myself. This wasn’t a game. This wasn’t a lie. He and I had given each other the taste of something we never thought we deserved.
We’d been lying, not only to everyone around us, but to ourselves.
I couldn’t see it, but I could feel it. It was reaching for my heart, like his hand had reached for me, but I’d been too afraid to give it.
“Hayes.”
“Right here, baby.”
A tear slid down my temple, his hand moving up my neck, covering my butterfly. “I—I can’t—”
His face was intense, a shadow looming over his beauty. “If you don’t want me to have it, then don’t give it,” he said, his voice deep and gruff. He knew. God, but he fucking knew. He pulled out and slowly pushed back in, my pussy spasming. “I can’t take it, Margo. You have to give it.”
“I’m scared.”
His body shifted, his knees in the mattress now, and he started pumping faster. “So am I.”
“Don’t break me,” I pleaded, my thighs tightening around him. “Don’t you dare break me, Superman.”
Doubt swirled in his eyes, and I stared into them, searching his dark forest. All I found was pain concealed by a mountain of guilt. His face changed then, reflecting that guilt. His hand slid up from my hip to weave his fingers with mine, pinning me to the mattress.
I started to move my hips against his, making love to him too. I needed him to see what I was seeing, feel what I was feeling. Swallowing my fear, I let the light of truth guide me into the darkness he tried to hide from the world. “I trust you, Hayes,” I murmured through my pants.
He groaned and hid his face from me. His skin was glistening now, his body moving fluidly in the warm light. He was a work of art, precious and rare.
“W-we have to let go of the lies we lived if this is going to work,” I rasped, clinging to him as my walls began to spasm.
His thrusts became more erratic as my words settled in the air, his groans turning into harsh grunts.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he commanded roughly against my skin, sending a chill over me.
If I gave this to him, we could find a way through the lies. We could find the strength to let go of them. Together. We could find acceptance in each other.
I turned my head, kissing the shell of his ear before I said, “I’m yours.”
He pulled out of me then, his breaths labored.
“Thank you,” he rasped as he eased back inside me, filling me again.
I closed my eyes, savoring his strength, his raw power as his body dominated mine.
The tip of his cock hit my womb over and over, and all too soon, it became too much.
My back arched, my nails digging into his shoulder and the top of his hand as I cried out his name, my body surrendering to him.
He chased me through my climax, and I felt him rise up to watch me.
White spots danced across my vision as I clamped around his length, as he buried himself to the hilt, halting there as he groaned my name.
When I opened my eyes, all I saw was gold and his green.