Chapter 9 #2
The thought terrifies and thrills me simultaneously.
His hands slip under my tank top, stroking the bottom curve of my bare breasts.
His calloused fingers sending shivers across my skin as they trace circles, making their way to my nipples.
I arch into his touch, craving more, needing it like his touch was the same as my breathing.
Without it, I wouldn’t survive the night.
“Tell me what you want,” Styxx demands, his voice a husky growl that vibrates through me.
What do I want?
I want everything he’s offering and more.
I want to forget my responsibilities, forget my fears, forget everything except how he makes me feel. But admitting that means surrendering control, and control is all I’ve had for years.
“I want . . .” My voice falters as his thumb brushes just beneath the underside of my breast. “I want you to touch me.”
His eyes darken with desire, pupils dilating until there’s barely any color left. “Where?”
I swallow hard. “Everywhere.”
Styxx gives me a smile, one I would say is that of a predator stalking its prey, as he rips the tank top from my body in a swift motion. I couldn’t comprehend what he was doing.
My breath catches in my throat as the cool air of the room hits my exposed skin. I’ve never felt so vulnerable yet so alive at the same time. Styxx’s eyes rake over me with such hunger that I feel myself blushing from head to toe.
“Beautiful,” he whispers, his fingers tracing the outline of my collarbone before trailing down between my breasts. “So fucking beautiful.”
I bite my lip to keep from moaning as his hand cups my breast, his thumb grazing over my hardened nipple. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure straight to my pussy.
“Don’t hold back,” he commands, lowering his head until his lips hover just above my breast. “I want to hear you, Hope. Every moan, every whimper. Every cry I draw out of you.”
When his mouth closes over my nipple, I arch off the bed, unable to contain the cry that escapes me. His tongue swirls in small circles, flicking against me as his other hand glides up my side, holding me in place. The dual sensation is overwhelming.
“Styxx.” I gasp his name like a prayer.
Styxx lifts his head, eyes locking with mine. “Right now, I’m Brian to you. In this bed, that’s who’s fucking you. Not Styxx. Never Styxx when I’m going to be inside you.”
“Brian,” I whisper.
“Good girl.” Styxx grins and moves back to my other breast, giving it the same attention while his free hand works to shove my shorts down, leaving me in just my panties.
I should stop him. I should tell him this is moving too fast. But I don’t want to.
For once in my life, I want to be selfish, to take what I want without thinking of consequences.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he says, his voice rough with desire, his breath tickling my bare flesh. “From the first time I saw you dance on stage, opening night. Before I knew you were moving in next door. I’ve wanted you, mo chathú, my very own temptation.”
His words make my heart skip a beat. The idea that he’s wanted me from the beginning sends a thrill through my body that I can’t deny.
“But you didn’t even know me then,” I whisper, my voice trembling with need.
“Didn’t need to.” Styxx trails his fingers along the edge of my panties, teasing me. “Some things you just know. And I knew I had to have you. Even if I told myself I couldn’t have you then.”
I shiver under his touch, my body responding in ways I’ve never experienced before. It’s like every nerve ending in my body is alive and hypersensitive.
“You’re thinking too much again,” he murmurs against my stomach, his beard tickling my skin as he places featherlight kisses down my abdomen.
“I can’t help it,” I admit, my fingers still tangled in his hair. “This is . . . I don’t usually. . .”
Styxx lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that steals my breath. “I know. That’s what makes this even more special. You’re doing it because it’s right. What we’re starting, it’s just you and me.”
His words wrap around me like a warm blanket, comforting and exciting all at once. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties, slowly dragging them down my legs. I resist the urge to close my thighs, to hide myself from his gaze.
“Perfect,” he whispers, tossing my underwear somewhere behind him. “Every inch of you is perfect.”
I’m about to protest, to tell him how not perfect I am, but his mouth shifts to my inner thigh, and coherent thought becomes impossible. He trails kisses up my leg, getting closer and closer to where I’m throbbing for him.
When his tongue flicks against my pussy, I cry out, my back arching off the bed involuntarily.
The sensation is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
His hands grip my thighs, spreading me wider as he devours me like a man starved.
I can’t think, can’t breathe—can only feel as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me.
“Oh God,” I gasp, my fingers tightening in his hair. “Styxx . . .”
He hums against me, the vibration sends shockwaves through my entire body. I’ve never been this vulnerable with anyone before, never allowed myself to be. But with Styxx, it feels right. It feels like coming home.
His tongue circles my most sensitive spot, and I feel myself climbing higher and higher toward something I’ve never truly experienced before. Not like this. Not with this intensity.
“Let go for me, Hope,” he growls against my flesh, and his words are my undoing.
I shatter completely, my body convulsing as the orgasm tears through me with an intensity I’ve never known before.
Stars explode behind my eyelids, and I cry out his name, unable to hold anything back as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me.
My thighs tremble against his shoulders, but he doesn’t let up, drawing out every last tremor until I’m whimpering.
When he finally pulls away, I’m a boneless heap on his bed, breathing hard, my skin flushed and damp with sweat.
Styxx crawls back up my body, his eyes dark and hungry.
I notice he’s still fully dressed while I’m completely naked, and something about that makes me feel vulnerable and powerful at the same time.
“That was . . .” I trail off, unable to find words to describe the intensity of what I just experienced.
“Just the beginning,” Styxx promises, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me.
I reach up, my fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” I whisper, suddenly emboldened by desire.
He chuckles, a deep sound that warms me from the inside out. “Impatient, are we?”
“Yes,” I admit without shame. “I want to see you. To touch you.”
My body still hums with pleasure, but I want more. I want all of him.
Styxx sits back on his heels, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluid motion.
My breath catches at the sight of him. His chest is broad and muscled.
The rest of the tattoo I’ve seen on his arm connects at the bottom of his neck and toward his chest. I wonder how far back it goes.
The rest of him is just as remarkable as the ink branding his skin.
The chiseled chest of his makes me want to trace every inch of him with my tongue and fingers.
Scars mark his skin in various places, telling stories of a hard life I’m suddenly desperate to hear. His biceps flex as he tosses his shirt aside, and I can’t help but reach out to touch him, running my fingers over the defined muscles of his abdomen.
“Like what you see?” he asks, a confident smirk playing on his lips.
“Very much,” I admit, not bothering to hide my appreciation. I trace a particularly jagged scar that runs along his ribs. “What happened here?”
“I’ll tell you about them someday, but right now isn’t the time,” he says, catching my hand and pressing a kiss to my palm.
He stands up to remove his jeans and boxers, and I swallow hard at the sight of him fully naked. My experience with men has been limited, but even I know that Styxx is impressively endowed. My eyes widen at his size, and I can’t help the nervous flutter in my stomach.
“See something you like?” he asks, his voice deeper now, rougher with desire.