How many times did this fantasy play out in my mind while I had my dick in one hand, my phone abandoned in the other? Because it was always the same—I’d watch porn, feel myself on the edge, and when I was ready to come, my eyes would close…
And whose face would emerge in the darkness behind my lids?
Haven.
Every. Fucking. Time.
I fought it the first few times. Tried inserting a porn star instead. But Haven Lee’s hold on me only got stronger.
It was easier to surrender than to keep fighting.
Now those years—fuck,decades—of fantasies are finally taking physical form. None of the weird shit that happened after the Rain Dance, when we were all tweaking so hard, it’s a surprise any of us even remember anything.
This is like scratching an itch that’s been out of reach for so long, it’s become torture.
I pull out, wishing I could see the cum creaming my dick, but in this cabin’s gloomy light, it’s all just a blurry mess.
I duck down and sink my teeth into her ass so hard that I taste blood. She yells, tries to kick me, laughs, and then bursts into tears.
“Haven?”
Jesus, what’s happening?
Did I bite her too hard?
It’s only when Haven wraps her arms around herself that I realize just how naked she is.
“Hey, hey…shh…” I whisper, dragging her over the back of the sofa with me and cradling her shuddering body in my lap.
Haven feels so tiny and helpless as she shivers against my body, like a little puppy someone left out in the rain.
She’s only cried in front of me a few times before. Once, when we both almost drowned in the creek. On Friday night, when me and Rooke were done fucking her.
And that afternoon in the woods, when I killed that squirrel.
My heart clenches at that last memory. I shove it out of my mind as quickly as I can, and clutch her even tighter, as if I can stop her shivers with sheer force.
“Shh. You’re okay. You’re okay.” I rock her, smoothing hair out of her face and planting a dozen tiny kisses over her cheek, her jaw, the side of her neck, her shoulder.
Her sobbing subsides a little, then she turns her head. I study every inch of her face, trying to ignore the sullen anger in her eyes as she stares right back.
“I’ve never told you how fucking beautiful you are,” I murmur, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
Her lips thin. “You were too busy calling me a slut.”
“Yeah, fine, I’ll stop.” I bury my head in her damp hair, chuckling. “Guess it doesn’t matter how many guys you’ve slept with. It’s not like we were exclusive or anything.”
“Exclusive?” She shoves me so hard, she almost hits the floor when she loses her balance.
I’m on my feet as quickly as she is, because I assume she’s headed for the ice pick.
But she just stands there, hands balled into fists, looking so fucking gorgeous with her mussed up hair, her bare tits heaving.
She stabs a finger toward me. “Fuck you!”
I make a grab for her. She tries to fend me off, but I drag her closer despite her protests, forcing her down on the sofa with me.
“I’m not a slut! What’s it going to take to get that into your thick skull?”
