And I have no idea why.
“Do you really want to leave right now?” I ask, leaning into her.
“Fuck. You.”
I look into her eyes and she stares back at me.
“What if I take that literally?” I ask.
She licks her lips and I see uncertainty in her eyes. Confusion, hurt, and raw need. Lust. The same as me.
And then I start kissing her, feeling as she briefly resists for a mere second before her tongue meets mine, her mouth opens to me, her body responding with heat and sensuality.
Damn she tastes exquisite.
I am drunk already, drunk and high on an overdose of Haisley. I cannot control myself around her, cannot seem to think straight.
She was supposed to leave. I was sending her away.
And then, at the last moment, my will crumbled to dust and here I am again, back at the well, drinking, gorging myself on this woman and I can’t seem to get enough. My cock is straining, my hands grope her ass, and she moans into my mouth.
I press her back against the door.
Kiss down her neck.
“What are we doing?” she gasps.
I don’t know and I refuse to answer her question. I am at her breasts now, and I need them, need to suck on them. I begin to strip her naked. She is breathing heavily, panting almost, and soon I’m pulling off my own clothes too. I need to feel her skin, to be completely naked, pressed together, our flesh hot and slick with sweat.
Haisley
I can’t keep track of anything with Dermot Nash.
The man is hot one moment and then ice cold the next. And right now, he feels like an erupting volcano. I want to stay angry at him, and I am angry, dammit.
But I’m also turned on, needy and greedy for his body, his touch, his lips on fire against my own.
I cannot resist him and he clearly knows it, which is confusing and frustrating. I feel so helpless.
Just when I’d accepted that he was cancelling our contract, firing me, sending me away, he turns around and demands to take me once again. To control my body, own me, possess me.
Perhaps if I wasn’t so desperate in every sense of the word, I’d have the guts to turn him down. Watch the smug grin fade from his face as I turn and walk out the front door, never to be seen again.
But I’ve chosen to stay, haven’t I? At least, until I can feel him inside of me one last time…
And now, he has me stripped bare. “I need to taste you,” he growls.
A moment later, I’m lying on the cool marble floor in the foyer, beside the front door. Dermot spreads my legs and kneels, his predatory eyes hungry, wolfish.
He licks his lips, leans between my legs, licking up one thigh and down the next. I cry out from the raw anticipation of it all.
My anger is gone, evaporated, and now all I feel is wild excitement and lust.
I just want to feel his tongue and mouth on my dripping pussy.
But Dermot seems more intent on teasing me right now.
I arch my back, feel my sex open for him, and I’m uninhibited and unhinged. I don’t care how I look, I don’t care that I’m so desperate and easy.
I just need to feel the rush of adrenaline when his hot mouth connects with my swollen mound.
He holds one leg and stares straight down at my center, his eyes dark, intense, and as obsessed as my own must look right now.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he murmurs.
“I want to come all over your mouth,” I moan.
“I’ll drink every last drop from your pussy,” he replies. “It’s so sweet, baby, you have no clue.”
“Prove it,” I respond.
He grins a little. “You can’t wait.”
“After what you put me through, I deserve this.”
“What I…” his expression darkens. “Don’t bring that up. Not now. Not unless you want all of this to stop right here.”
“I’m sorry.” I start to sit up to explain, but he gently presses a hand to my lower belly.
And then he dives in. His lips are sucking on my folds, and the sensation is as exquisite and raw as anything I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. Literally. I cannot believe the human body is capable of producing such pulsing ecstasy, pleasure waves that radiate from my soaked cunt all the way to the tips of my toes and then to my head.
I cry out. My body shakes.
Dermot is licking and sucking, touching with his fingers, playing a symphony as he drinks from me, just as he promised.
He is fucking my open pussy with his tongue, and god I can feel every ridge of his mouth, his breath, his fingertips, penetrating me, pleasuring me with dexterity and knowledge and enjoyment.
He moans as he does it, and his growls vibrate up through my core.
I’m coming.
Do I scream when it happens? I can’t even tell, because I’m so lost.
My eyes are closed, I’m falling into a void of pure lust, an agony of sexual excitement, fulfilled as I’ve ever been, and yet still desperate for more.
He is making me an addict. I now understand what it must be like for those who have tried hard drugs, who have tempted fate by crossing that dark threshold to the reality that holds a dangerous flame at its center.
The closer you get to the hot flame, the more pleasure and pain become entwined.
And then the loss of the ecstasy is painful, hurts, burns worse than anything.
When he pulls away, after I come, I feel that loss distinctly. And I hold out my arms to him, my eyes wide, legs open, completely vulnerable.
We don’t need to speak.
His dark eyes connect with mine, and I can see that he is also afraid, maybe even more than I am. I can see deep pain and suffering in his gaze, and I’m surprised that he’s letting me see it.
But we’re connecting in a way I never knew was possible, not through words, not through discussion, but something deeper and more real.
Nothing needs to be said right now.
We are two desperate people who come from worlds of hurt.
I am not sure how I know that about him, but I simply know it. Maybe we have recognized one another, the way you might see someone in a foreign country and quickly realize they are from your hometown.
Yes, it’s like that, I decide. It’s like coming home, as he lowers his muscular, tight body onto mine. As I feel his heat enveloping me, and I gasp and sigh all at once, or at least that is how it seems.
Time has elongated.
I moan before I even feel his cock. He looks into my eyes, and I stare back. I reach out a hand and caress his face, and he grabs my wrist, but not too tightly. And then he grabs my free hand in his.
Soon he has both my arms pinned to the floor above my head, and he’s kissing me deeply. I can taste myself on his tongue, my own sweet muskiness, but also I taste him. We are mingling, we are coming together in the most perfectly sublime way, as he thrusts his huge cock into my ready hole.
We both cry out.
And then his hips slowly swivel, grinding against my sex slowly, seductively, drilling me so deep.
“Oh, fuck,” I moan.
He’s hitting me so deep, so central, and I feel tears welling in my eyes. It feels like joy mixed with some deep sadness I didn’t even realize I had.
Images of my whole life flash through my eyes as I close them.
Childhood.
Waving goodbye. School.
Alone for so long.
Watching Daddy watch his games, as he shouts and slaps the table.