“What if someone comes in?”
He doesn’t stop his torture, each stroke long and filling. I can barely think.
“Let them see me enjoying my fiancée.” He hits that spot and I cry out. “I’ll pick out their eyes after, for witnessing such a fucking gift.”
I moan, imagining him maiming and killing for me. I grow tighter, wetter and he smiles into the back of my neck. “My filthy girl,” he praises. “You’re made for my madness, Collins. And I want more of yours.”
He picks up his pace, hips snapping forward. We rock the table, things on the wall falling to the dark floors. I don’t care—don’t look away from his eyes. I take in his masculine snarl, his pleasure in my body—in me. His cock is thick and long, spearing me open and I use my fingers to open me wider.
Hayes groans, almost pitifully. “Fucking hell, Collins.” He takes me harder, us transfixed by the images. Both of us, wild and untamed, finding the monster in the other and loving them regardless.
Ripping my head back, he kisses me, teeth bumping. I bite his lip and he groans as blood tangles on our tongues. It’s only a few more pumps as I cry out his name and he follows me over the edge, his seed pumping into me.
Thank God I can’t get pregnant.
“My fucking ring. My fucking pussy. My fuckingwife,” he growls into my neck, words deliciously dark. “You belong to me.”
Nodding, I hold firm to him as he withdraws, both of us shaking. A pounding on the door startles me as Hayes holds me tight. The door knob rattles but doesn’t open—locked.
At my curious expression, Hayes shrugs. “You really thought I’d let someone else see that?” He scoffs. “No, that’s all mine.”
He quickly helps me dress and the evidence of what we did runs down my leg. Take two fingers, he swipes some up, fingers slipping under the damp fabric and pushing them inside me.
I groan and he smiles devilishly. “I always knew I’d see you on stage, my cum leaking out of you.”
He plays for a second longer, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean. His eyes roll and I fight the urge to say screw all of this and ride him in my makeup chair.
But I have to do this. Keep Roman happy—and away from Maeve. I can figure out how to get out of this after. Maybe I’ll even come clean to my sister and we’ll put all of this behind us. I don’t need the stage now, not when I have Hayes’ undivided attention.
“What does this mean?” I ask, voice soft. “For us?”
He adjusts my top, straightening my hair before fastening his jeans. His broad chest is bare, the tribal ink glinting under the harsh overhead lights.
“I thought that was obvious?” He kisses the ring on my finger, before chastely pecking my lips. “I’m yours, Collins. To do with whatever you wish.”
“Anything?” I cock a brow and he smirks.
“Viper, you could cut out my heart, hand it to me and I would say thank you. I’ll let you do anything you want to me—as long as you say you’re mine.”
He loves me.
Tapping my chin, he asks, “Right?”
He’s so hopeful, so boyish—so mine. Stepping close, I grab his hair, curling myself around him. Instinctively, his arms find my waist and he holds me, waiting for my words.
He’s giving me the control. I could walk away right now, but I won’t. I can’t from Hayes.
“I belong to you,” I breathe.
He beams, light and carefree. “And?”
I snort. “And you belong to me.”
“Damn straight.” He steals a hard kiss, and the banging sounds again. My set is ready and I’m needed on stage. “This isn’t fake anymore, Collins. This is it. Until the stars call us home, forever and a day, you’re mine.”
I like the sound of that. “And you’re mine.”
32
