He curls his fingers, hitting the spot that makes my vision blur, makes everything except this moment disappear.
"Your mouth. I need your mouth on my pussy. I need—" I can't finish, but he understands.
He kisses down my body, rough, biting kisses that will leave marks I can look at tomorrow and remember I survived today. When he settles between my thighs and looks up at me, I'm already trembling.
"I'm going to make you forget everything," he says. Then his tongue is on me.
He eats me like I'm necessary, his tongue working my clit while his fingers fuck into me hard and deep. The sounds are obscene, and I can't hold back the noises that tear from my throat. For the first time in three days, I'm not thinking about who I couldn't save. Just what I can feel.
"Don't hold back." He pulls back long enough to growl, "Let me hear you. I want to know what my tongue does to you."
Then he's back, sucking my clit between his lips while curling his fingers against that spot inside me, and I shatter. The orgasm rips through me, white-hot and total, obliterating everything else. I scream his name, profanities, sounds that aren't words. For those few seconds, there's no guilt. No blood on my hands. Just this.
He doesn't stop. Licks me through the aftershocks until I'm shaking and oversensitive, then rises over me, his cock pressing against my entrance.
"Look at me." His voice is wrecked. "I want to see your eyes when I fuck you."
I meet his gaze as he pushes inside—one long, hard thrust that fills me. He's big, stretching me until I feel split open, and it's perfect.
"God, you're tight." He holds himself still, jaw clenched. "You feel so fucking good."
"Don't hold back." I dig my fingers into his shoulders, my nails leaving crescents. "I won't break. Fuck me like you need it. Like I need it. Hard enough that I can't think."
His thrusts turn brutal, deep, and hard, hitting the spot inside me that makes my nerve endings fire. His hand slides between us, fingers finding my clit and working it in time with his movements. Each thrust drives the thoughts further away. Each stroke replaces grief with sensation.
"Yes, fuck, just like that! Don't stop!"
"You feel incredible wrapped around my cock." His breath is hot against my ear. "Perfect. Made for me."
I bite down on his shoulder to muffle my sounds as another orgasm builds—this one even bigger, even more obliterating. He's relentless, fucking into me with a force that rocks my whole body, his fingers on my clit driving me higher. I'm chasing it desperately, needing it, needing to break apart and be remade into something that isn't just grief.
"Come on my cock," he demands. "Want to feel that pussy squeeze me. Let go, Hazel. Just let go."
I do. The orgasm tears through me, harder than the first, and I clench around him as everything else disappears. He follows seconds later with a guttural sound, burying himself deep and spilling inside me, filling me with his warmth.
Afterward, he holds me while our breathing steadies. Thankfully, we say nothing, because nothing needs to be said.
For the first time since the ambush, I feel something other than guilt.
four
Travis
Icrossedalinewith Hazel last night, and now the awkwardness is killing me.
She's riding on Eric's ATV today—said something about wanting to give my suspension a break, which is bullshit. My ATV's suspension is fine. She's avoiding me, and we both know it.
I catch myself watching her again, the way she sits stiff-backed behind Eric, one hand gripping the handlebar support instead of his waist like she'd held mine. Professional distance. Like we didn't fuck each other raw in my tent while she cried into my shoulder.
"You're staring," Jess says from beside me, her voice dry.
"I'm watching the convoy."
"You're watching her." She adjusts her grip on my waist as we navigate a rough patch of broken asphalt. "And she's watching you not watching her. It's painful."
"Mind your business."
"This is my business. Tense leadership makes for tense crews." She's quiet for a moment, then adds, "Was it just the grief? For her, I mean."
