Chapter Four #2
"Yes," she whispers, swallowing hard.
Fucking hell.
"But it's okay, Sidney," she hurries to say. "I know I don't…fit."
"That's a damn lie." I stalk her across the box, not stopping until I'm in her space and she has nowhere else to go. The pulse in her throat flutters wildly. "You know why they treat you like that?"
"Because I'm—"
"Perfect," I growl before she can say anything else.
"They treat you like that because you're perfect, and they can't fucking handle standing in the presence of perfection, knowing they won't ever hope to measure up.
" I hook my finger beneath her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze.
"They look at you like that because when they see you, they see light, baby.
They see joy. They see what they'll never even hope to be. "
I've met a thousand women just like the one in the hallway. My sister is a ballerina, and women like that are everywhere in her world. They tear other women down and use claws and venom because claws and venom are all they have to offer.
Hattie, though? She's different. And women like the one in the hall know it. They hate it because they'll never measure up. They are now and will always be pale imitations, living in the shadows of women like Hattie.
Why the fuck would I waste time with one of them? They'll never even come close to matching the pretty little goddess who'd rather eat tacos, read smut at a football game, and outlaw Spanx than rub elbows with celebrities.
"You don't have to do that," she whispers. "I know I'm not beautiful."
"Who the fuck told you that?"
"A lot of people." Her throat works. "My mom."
"Let me see your hand."
She hesitates for a long moment before placing her palm in mine. I drag it down, my eyes locked with hers, and wrap it around my cock.
"Sidney," she gasps, her eyes going wide.
"Don't tell me that you aren't beautiful when you've kept me like this all night," I rasp, my voice shaking.
"Don't tell me that I don't know perfection when it's got me so hard I can't think straight.
" I tip her head back further, forcing her to see me.
"He doesn't get like this for just anyone. It's only you."
She makes the sweetest little sound half a second before her fist wraps around my cock. I slam my eyes closed, my head kicking back. My hips buck without permission, trying to get closer to her and her heat.
"Fuck, butterfly," I groan. "You have no idea what you do to me."
"I think I'm getting the picture," she whispers. "Sidney, I…I…"
"What is it? Tell me what you need, and I've got you."
"Kiss me?" she asks, her voice the tiniest of whispers.
I hear it in my soul, setting fire to my synapses.
My hand curves around the back of her neck, tugging her up against me until her tits are crushed against my chest and I feel every quivering breath she takes. Her lips part, her dilated eyes locked on my face.
I dip my head, intending to take it slow, to sink into her and ruin us both. Instead, her tongue touches my bottom lip the same way it did earlier, and I lose it.
Her name rumbles from my lips loud enough for half the theater to hear. I drag her into my arms, plastering her against the velvet wall of the box. My lips seam to hers, my hands planted on her ass to haul her up my body.
Her taste is a shot of adrenaline right to the heart. The way she whimpers is a vise around my balls. I want to drown in her right here and now. Fuck breathing. This right here is what I need, just her wrapped around me, kissing me like she never wants to stop.
"Christ, butterfly," I snarl, using my hands on her ass to grind her against my cock. "I want to make you scream for me."
"Sidney," she moans, writhing all over me. "You c-can't do that."
"Yeah?" I drag my lips down to her throat, sucking and biting at the delicate flesh. "Why not, Hattie baby?"
"Because…because…" She pulls my hair, moaning again. "H-half of Chicago can't hear me come! I'll never be able to go anywhere ever again."
I chuckle and then bite her again, rocking my hips against her. "You're right. They aren't allowed to hear you." I might actually lose my mind if anyone hears her. I want those sounds all to myself.
Who am I kidding? I want her all to myself. I want all her time, all her attention, every inch of her. I was stupid to think I could pretend otherwise.
"Please," she gasps, her kiss-swollen lips parted. "Oh, please, please."
"What are you begging for, butterfly? Tell me, and it's yours."
"I don't know!" she cries, tipping her head forward to meet my gaze, so much need in her eyes, it crashes over me in a tidal wave.
She knows exactly what she needs. She's just afraid to ask for it.
She's afraid to let herself have it. Perhaps she's afraid to let herself believe I meant a damn thing I said tonight.
"You do know," I growl, squeezing her perfect ass. "Tell me."
"You," she whispers. "Please, Sidney."
The whole theater hears me growl again. I know they do. I also know I don't care. The woman I'd die to belong to is begging me to fuck her. It's the one thing I want more than I want air. It's also the one thing I can't give her right now.
This is hell. It's a perfect, exquisite, torturous hell.
"Please," she whimpers.
I press her deeper against the wall, ensuring she's completely hidden in the shadows. If anyone on stage looks up here, all they'll see is my shadow. They won't see her.
My hand slips from her ass, sliding around her hip.
She gasps, quivering in my arms.
"I'm going to give you what you need, butterfly," I rasp, my mouth bone dry. "I can't fuck you here, but I'm going to take care of you."
"Please," she moans again, her eyes so dilated they're nearly black.
My hand slips beneath her dress, my fingers sliding up her inner thigh. Her skin is so soft, so smooth. She's the softest thing I've ever touched. She may be the most precious, too.
"Are your underwear embarrassing tonight, Hattie baby?"
"Y-yes." She gulps, her cheeks turning pink. "I t-thought maybe they'd be safer."
"Safer?"
She squirms, avoiding my gaze.
Ah, I see.
"You thought they'd keep me from doing this?" I ask, dragging my thumb against the seam. I'm losing my mind to see what I'm touching, but not yet.
Not. Yet.
Her head jerks in a frantic nod.
"The cupcakes covering this pretty little thing only made me harder when you were in my truck," I growl, toying with her and my own sanity. "Whatever you wrapped it in for me tonight won't change how much I want you riding my face."
"Sidney," she half-moans, half-groans, like she's turned on and embarrassed at the same time.
I tug her dress up, my eyes locked with hers, until the fabric is pooling around her waist. My eyes drift down.
Jesus.
She's not even touching me, and I'm going to come all over myself just from looking at her panties. They're white cotton, with little comic speech bubbles printed all over that say spank instead of bam, pow, or zap.
I tug them aside, groaning at how wet she is. Her hard little clit is swollen and begging for attention, her lips bare.
"As soon as we're alone, I'm going to eat this little thing until you scream, Hattie," I breathe. "Might not even stop then."
"Sidney," she moans.
I press my thumb to her clit, grinding in slow circles.
Her hips buck, her nails digging into my scalp.
I can't take my eyes from the sight of my hand on her pussy. It's so fucking perfect it's obscene. I spread her legs wider, just to give me a better view.
"Please," she whimpers like she's dying.
Whatever control I had vanishes. I hoist her higher, using my hips to keep her pinned to the wall while I work her over with my thumb on her clit. One thick finger circles her greedy little hole before I slip it inside.
She's so tight, already clenching and fluttering around me.
I add another finger.
"Sidney," she gasps.
"Can you take one more, butterfly?"
"I…I…" She looks nervous, and then determined. "Yes."
I work it inside, stretching her wide. Fuck me.
I'm going to wreck her when I finally get inside.
She's so tight. I stretch and push and twist, fucking her with three fingers.
The wet squelch of her body trying to suck me deeper and force me out at the same time will replay in my dreams tonight. It'll live in my memories forever.
I pump and twist, fascinated by the way she mewls and whimpers for me, rocking against me like she wants me deeper.
"That's it, butterfly," I growl. "Fuck my fingers just like that."
She pants my name, her face screwed up like she's in heaven. "Sidney, I…I'm…"
"You think I don't know? You think I can't feel it?" I curl my fingers up, searching out that sweet spot. "I know, Hattie baby. Go on and give it to me."
"Don't let me scream," she begs.
"I've got you," I promise, dipping my head until my lips are inches from hers. "No one gets to hear my girl coming apart for me. No one."
She whimpers my name, her head falling back against the wall. Her inner walls clamp down, her body going rigid.
I crash my mouth down on hers, working her clit in furious circles as she catapults over the edge with a strangled cry.
I swallow it, stealing that sound and her breath.
She convulses, coming in waves. I don't let up, and I don't let her make a sound, not until she goes limp in my arms, her body wrecked.
"I've got you," I whisper, pulling back to press my lips to her crown. "Christ, baby, I've got you."
I feel her sweet sigh in my chest, working its way into my heart.