Page 80 of Havoc
There’s a chill in the night, but it’s his touch that has me shivering. His fingers crawl my bare thighs. They tease a line without going further. A silent question hangs in the air between us.
We’ve made these lines so blurry between the past and present. Between what we need and what we fear.
My answer comes with a tug on the oversized T-shirt I’m wearing. I lift enough to let it gather at my waist, but I don’t strip it off. I slide my panties to the side and pull Levi’s hand to my core, aching as he sinks two fingers inside me.
I’m coming apart.
But it’s more than pleasure; it’s a complete unraveling. Like my soul has been wound tight. Strung in this protective ball for so many years that I forgot what it’s like to let it untangle. With every rock of Levi’s hand, another thread pulls free.
Another weight shimmies off my shoulders.
I tip my head back and moan, unbound and uncaring who could stumble upon us.
It’s not like we’re in the privacy of Levi’s bedroom. On the porch, anyone could walk outside or pull up the drive. It’s a dark night, but we aren’t invisible. And as my gasp turns into a desperate scream, we’re not silent either.
I don’t care so long as this man claims me.
Reaching for his belt, I slide it from the loops. I slip his zipper down next, wrapping my hand around his stiff cock. The tension in his jaw has me tightening around his fingers.
The universe could collapse around us, and all I’d see is Levi. A man who has yet to be soured by my confessions. He cares about what happened to me but sees the real me through it.
There’s no judgment in his gaze as he slips his fingers out and lifts my body to replace his touch with the head of his cock. And while it’s my pussy that accepts him, it’s my soul I hand him as he lowers me on his thick shaft.
Levi fills me, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders. The bite of his fingers gripping my ass makes me moan. Our chests seal tight as I find pleasure in the slow grind of our bodies.
Wrapped as one.
Bathed in moonlight.
The stars hang overhead as we steal this moment.
I tip my forehead to Levi’s, and I’m lost in his eyes. My body shivers the closer I get to the peak of my climax.
It’s freeing. That precipice of a brutal cliff that is sure to plunge me over the edge. A moment of truth. Will I plummet or fly?
Levi sends me soaring.
For the first time since arriving at the compound, I take Reagan up on her offer to have coffee at her house in the neighborhood. It’s surprisingly peaceful out here. The hum of motorcycles coming and going is barely audible.
This early in the morning, the sun is just peeking over the horizon, casting a beautiful glow across the desert.
Bea follows Reagan out through the back slider to meet me on the porch with coffee, and it slams behind them.
For a split second, Reagan freezes. A splash of coffee spills down the mug and onto the patio. Her eyes widen when she looks behind her at the now-closed door, and although she brushes it off quickly, I wonder how often that happens. For me, it’s more frequent than I would like.
Trauma lingers in the smallest things.
A sudden movement.
A loud noise.
A body accidentally stepping into my path.
It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since that basement. Or how much time has passed since I was locked at the Iron Sinners compound for almost a year. Physical scars heal long before emotional ones.
“Please don’t slam doors,” Reagan finally says to Bea, who slips past her.
“Sorry!” Bea yells behind her, missing how pale Reagan’s cheeks are.
