Page 45 of Filthy Love

The room was no bigger than eight feet by eight feet. Perfect for Gia’s office, but not so much for a man of his size to track away his anxious jitter. He could do the full room in a few steps. Still he paced.

2.34am.

Her coconut scent was everywhere. At one point during the night he’d lifted his arm to sniff to make sure it wasn’t embedded in his own skin. The scent was soothing and tormenting at the same time.

Gia has always been top shelfMacallan 25on gorgeous legs. His own walking, seducing compulsion put on this earth to show just how weak of a man Hawk truly was when every minute of every day he’d wanted to dive head first into her and never recover from the trauma loving her caused.

He was so hard. His dick was aching in heartbeats against his thigh demanding it be taken home inside Gia.

He paced some more.

There was no chance he was jerking off to ease the pressure, not with Gia right next door. The heel of his hand found its own way to his groin, pressing hard, willing the hard-fucking traitor to calm his shit down.

2.37am.

He needed air. He felt like he was choking in coconut. The window pushed wide did nothing to put oxygen in to his lungs.

It was no good. He was climbing out of his goddamn sick skin thinking of her just feet away. He’d wake her real nice. He’d always fantasized about kissing her awake. Just streaking his mouth from one end of her to the other and stopping in the places in the middle to lick full attention right there.

Would she cry out? Would she wake moaning and gripping his hair tight enough he’d be bald? Would she beg him to keep going with his hard tongue-fuck?

Without realizing it, ten deep in his sick fantasy, he prowled over to the bed, plonked his ass and fished out his cock in a tight, craving palm.

Air shot out of his throat with relief.Fuck, yeah.Head cranking down as he folded in on his knees and rolled his hand.

He was stroking before he knew it.

Slow. Easy. Strokes. From tip to base.

Unlike usual, Hawk went easy on his cock. He didn’t punish himself for wanting Gia. Something about being around her freed his desire. Listening to all her stories as they packed her boxes side by side and hearing her laugh over every little thing had been eye opening. She had a story for each book, where she bought it, who gifted it to her, and what it meant to her. He’d hung off her every word like one giant love sapped dickhead.

Even smiled a time or two when she wasn’t looking his way.

Jesus. Oh, fuck.Electricity climbed through him. It felt too good. He couldn’t have these filthy thoughts in his head about her, could he?Stroke it out. Stroke it out.Thoughts of watching her wrap her pink lips around the tip he was powering through his hand. Watching her give him the suck until he hit the soft part of her throat.

Now wouldn’t that be something?

Heaven in his own part of Hell.

Would she suck hard with a bit of teeth?

Would she lick tentatively at him? He’d never wanted a mouth on his cock before.

He’d let her, too. Just let her explore even if it meant she drove him to his knees. What in the good Hell was he lying to himself for? Hawk would beg for it.Oh, baby, suck me in hard.

As much as he had always quarantined himself from Gia, he’d known one thing.

One thing never changed. His body would always belong to her.

He could screw a thousand women and that fact wouldn’t change. Because while he got a fast release that was as empty as it was unfulfilling, one smile from Gia was surmount to an all over body climax. He felt it days later whistling through his blood, making him higher than any amount of weed could match.

Noise whirred in the back of his skull.

The dirty bastard part of him wanted her to hear him groaning low in his throat, to walk in here and watch. Watch how incredibly hard his cock was for her. How it dripped from the tip into his fingers, he used the wetness to pull tighter and picture that image.

Oh, fuck. That was good.

If he closed his eyes he could see the younger version of Gia. Wide eyed. Perpetually happy. Innocent. Too beautiful for her own good. The girl he’d had sick fantasies about were put to shame compared to the woman she was now at twenty-seven.

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