One hand lifts, and he grips my chin. “You really want this, Isla?” Each word is slow and deliberate. “You really want me to fuck you in this closet right now? Instead of a bed with pretty bedding and expensive sheets?” His lips are almost grazing mine now. “The way I’m sure you’re used to?”
“Yes.” I try to force the word on a growl, but it comes out weak. Just like me. “Right now, Hunt.” I grit my teeth. “And if you don’t want to fuck me, I’ll find someone else who will.”
I know without a doubt that I’ll regret hooking up. That’s exactly why I’m going to do it, even though I know that’s severely screwed up. But when I leave this camp tomorrow, if the ache inside of me is because I’m ashamed that I lost my virginity to a man who spent the past week being a dick to me … well, that’ll keep my mind off remembering how stupid I must have looked when Nick—aka my sperm donor—was walking toward me and still didn’t care that I was there.
“You’re a good girl, Isla,” he says, gripping my chin tighter. “You’re not the type of girl I take in a utility closet to fuck.”
“You don’t know me,” I say bitterly, sliding my hand lower, forcing his dick to press into my body, “or what kind of girl I am.”
“Oh, I think I do,” he tosses back instantly, tilting his head up slightly as he reaches between us, running his hand between my skin and the waistband of my leggings. “But if this is what you need, I’ll give it to you.” His hand slides lower, bringing my leggings down slightly with it. “Even if I think it’s a mistake.”
“That’s the point,” I sass. “So, let’s hurry the hell up and make it already.”
When his hand moves lower and he strokes his fingers against my heat, his eyes darken. “I’ll give you something to regret, Nineteen,” he drawls lowly. “But I’m not going to fuck you.”
HENDRIX
“Why not?” she barks angrily. “What’s wrong with me?”
I know what she wants from me, but I also know that what she wants isn’t what she needs. Not right now and not from me.
Girls like her don’t do this shit. She’s a fucking princess. She lives in a mansion, kept away from boys like me, and yet … here I am, with my hand down her pants, feeling the heat pump from between her legs. Standing in front of her as she basically begs me to fuck her.
“Nothing is wrong with you,” I say, looking her right in the eye.
Everything inside of me wants to be a dick and taunt her because she’s probably had it easy her entire life—besides theone thing that’s upsetting her. But still, I can’t fucking force myself to be an ass because when she stares at me with those broken eyes and trembling lips? I fall the fuck apart.
Moving both of us so that it’s her back that’s pressed against the door, I drag her leggings and panties lower. Dropping to my knees, I push the Birkenstock sandals or whatever the hell they’re called off one by one before removing her leggings. I’m not a good guy. I never have been either. But something inside me says not to take my dick out and slide it straight into her pussy—even though that’s what I’m aching to do. It’s what I’ve been aching to do since the first time I fucking saw her. But when I followed her into this closet, she was damn near about to break. And now, she’s using me to get her mind off it.
I stare up at her, resting my palm against her leg and slowly running it upward. I knew why she bolted before even talking to any of the guests who were brought in. I was on Nick Pelletier’s team my freshman year of high school. I heard him talking to the assistant coach about Isla Hardy and how she never should have even been born, much less making a name in the hockey nation. I learned enough from that conversation to understand that Isla was Nick’s kid, though even I feel bad about that because he’s fucking poison.
I’m not going to tell Isla that I know her deep, dark secret. I have enough of my own that I keep locked away, and I don’t need to get wrapped up in anyone else’s.
When my hand gets as high as it can, my fingers graze her heat, and I fight back a moan. “I need you to tell me that this is okay, Isla.” I press a finger slightly inside of her, and instantly, her pussy is begging to pull it deeper. “I need to hear you say that you want me to touch you.”
“Yes,” she whispers, resting her back harder against the door as her eyes grow hooded. “Please, Hendrix. Touch me.”
My cock stands tall underneath my sweatpants, blood pumping straight to it, making it grow harder and harder the deeper my finger gets inside of her. I don’t need to spit on her; she’s wet enough all on her own, but I want to know how she tastes, so I bring my fingers to my mouth and run my tongue down the length of them.
“So fucking sweet,” I growl before sliding them back inside of her heat. “And so goddamn tight.” I practically whimper like an absolute loser before I add a second finger and gently work it in and out because even two fingers seem to be too fucking much, though she appears to be enjoying herself. “I’m about to drive my tongue straight inside of your pussy, so tell me, Nineteen, would you regret riding my face?”
“Yes.” She nods. “I would.”
I pump my fingers in and out of her harder, loving the way her lips part and her brows pull together in both agony and pleasure. Pulling my fingers from her, I lift my hand up, stretching my arm so that my fingers graze her lips. “Have a sample of what I’m about to feast on, Nineteen.”
Shock registers all over her face, and her eyes widen, but before she can pull back, I thrust my fingers between her pretty, plump lips, forcing her to have a taste.
“Just like sugar. Exactly how I knew a sweet thing like you would be.”
Dropping my hand from her face, I smirk. “You’d better be ready to ride, baby.”
And without warning, I lean forward, wrapping my hands around her legs and pulling her pussy right against my mouth. A yelp escapes her lips, and she struggles to find balance before, finally, she succumbs to my tongue and tangles one hand in my hair with the other next to her to level herself, using the door.
As I flick my tongue right against her clit, a loud moan rolls from her lips. My dick is so fucking hard that I swear it may explode right in my pants. A fucking first—that’s for sure.
“Mmm,” I mumble right against her heat. “Can’t wait to taste you all over my tongue when you come on my face.”
I angle my face upward more, driving my tongue straight inside of her, and suddenly, she’s rocking her hips back and forth, using my hair as leverage and damn near pulling it the fuck out. My scalp stings, but I fucking like it too much for her to stop.
