Page 31 of Misted
Mist
I lose my most basic control when I’m around you and sometimes, I never want it back.
I stare up at Hawk,lips parting and eyes widening.
I want to fuck you, Hellion.
No matter how much I replay it, it still doesn’t make any sense.
Logical or not, the familiar heat spreads over my skin like a slow, burning fire. My thighs clench together, still feeling the orgasm from earlier.
The moment I shut my lids, all I could see was these turquoise eyes and his silent, yet loud presence. With each stroke of my fingers, I imagined him watching me, touching me, wanting me.
Despite his words, the dark look on his face isn’t that of the desire I wished for. It’s of hate and deep-seated anger.
Hawk’s only purpose is to ruin me, and while I thought I was ready for this, it stabs a dagger into my half-empty chest.
I purse my lips in a futile attempt to control my body’s reaction.
Easier said than done.
My skin is so sensitive, the door’s wood triggers harsh, pleasurable friction. My air fills with his cloves, smoke and deep ocean scent.
At times like these, I miss the distance, but I miss him more. He’s finally looking at me instead of erasing me.
“Is that what you really want?” My voice is low.
Hawk tightens his hold on my wrists, and I suppress a moan as he pushes into me. The door digs into my back and my breasts crush against his hard chest. The quick rise and fall of our breathing create aching friction against my nipples, tightening them to painful sensitivity.
“Very well.” I try to sound neutral even though my body nearly bursts into flames. “If you must.”
I still can’t trust my body or my feelings around him, but if this will stop Hawk from sabotaging Ink’s release then it’s a risk I’m willing to take.
“Very well?” The blue of Hawk’s eyes morphs into a bottomless, frightening sea. “If you must?”
The angry lines in his face are the last thing I see. He flips me over and slams me against the door. My heated cheek presses against the wood.
“W-what are you doing?” I breathe against the shot of excitement settling between my slick thighs.
I can fight him, but then what? I already agreed to this. Besides, I don’t even have the strength or willpower to stop him.
Every pore of skin begs for his touch. It’s been years. No, decades. I close my eyes and let the sensation sink into every inch of me.
“Hawk…?”
He says nothing — as usual.
His strong fingers thread into my hair as his free hand yanks my nightgown up to my waist. Cold air causes goosebumps on the back of my thighs. I bite my lower lip as my core hums with pleasure.
His raw, controlled power always twisted me up.
Hawk pushes my cheek into the door. “I can’t even fucking look at you.”
“Then don’t touch me.” Tears rim my eyes. “We were doing just fine apart.”
“Were we?” he hisses.
No. Not even close.