Looks like she finds the sight as arousing as I find her.
“Give it to me, Hailey,” I whisper, licking between her slick lips as I replace my tongue with my thumb.
I move it side to side, barely any pressure on her clit, just enough so the swollen button glides under my fingertip. That’s all it takes.
She comes... hard. So fucking hard she bites my palm that can’t quite muffle her gasps. Her hips arch when I put my mouth back on her, sucking and licking her clean.
“Gorgeous,” I tut. “Fucking beautiful.”
I lift my gaze, openly staring at her face and this...thisis the moment I never wanted to experience. The moment I hoped wouldn’t come while I used women for my own pleasure.
It snuck up on me today. I didn’t see it coming. Not like this. Not now and not ever, but the way my chest constricts with the need to see her fall apart in my arms again is a clear sign thatthisis the moment.
The moment I realize I’m owned, and I want to own.
That’s a fucking problem if I ever saw one, given that I’m lying through my teeth and using her for personal gain. A fucking hypocrite given that I want to dig up Alex and hang his corpse for doing the exact same thing to my sister.
I don’t deserve Hailey.
But that won’t stop me from keeping her.
“Nash?” she sighs softly, her fingers knotting behind my head, a silent plea for me to move up.
“Yeah, pretty girl?”
“I’m think I’m catching feelings.”
I’m way ahead of you.
27
Hailey
Iswallow hard, coming down from the high. There’s nothing more addictive than seeing Nash between my legs, sucking and licking like making me orgasm is his life’s mission.
I finally got what I’ve been hoping for since we met. The kind of memories I wish I had from the two years I spent in college becausemy God, his tongue on my clit is amazing.
But no. Instead of the good stuff, all I get is Alex shoving his cock down my throat.
My chest rises and falls faster, my eyes on Nash as he kisses every scar he can reach on his way up my body.
“You don’t—”
“Shh,” he whispers, kissing the still-fresh scar marking my shoulder. “I know you hate them, but I don’t.”
“How do you know I hate them?” I narrow my eyes when he kisses my nose.
“You cover these up with clothes or concealer and...” He skims his parted lips over the fading marks along my neck. “You wear a scarf or pull your hair forward to hide those.”
A pleasant flutter starts low in my belly. He paid attention... noticed things no one else did. Even when his mood swung from angry to nice, even when I was certain he didn’t care about me at all, he paid attention.
“Nash...” I brace my hands against his chest to prop him up. “You’re getting me wet again.”
“Am I?” he smirks, one eyebrow arched. It’s not the irritating, self-assured smirk I’ve seen so many times. This is genuine delight. “I’ll have to do something about that, don’t you think?”
Dragging my hands down his back, I grip the hem of his t-shirt, tugging it off to reveal his inked chest.
I was too far gone last night, too focused on my orgasm to really look at his tattoos, but now, in broad daylight, I marvel at the intricate art adorning his tanned skin, well-defined muscles, and broad shoulders.
