Page 84 of Havoc
“I decided to postpone that trip actually.”
She gives me a worried look. “Why?”
I walk up to her, and she shifts her knees open so I can stand between her legs. She still refuses to say certain things, but her body welcomes me in a way that reciprocates my feelings.
“Why do you think?” I tip her chin up, tapping my thumb on her mouth.
The blush that crawls her cheeks is stunning. Her chest rises and falls as I lean closer, pressing my body into her core.
“I missed you,” she whispers so quietly, it’s almost as if she’s scared of her confession.
She grabs my belt, her hips rocking against my already rock-hard cock. Physical touch is a defense mechanism for her, and as much as I love her touch, I know she’strying to reduce her feelings to sex. But deep in her gaze, I see the truth.
“I missed you too.” I rake her hair back and claim her lips.
She tastes like fire.
Like my world burning to ashes.
My soul rising from nothing.
Her back arches, which presses her chest flush against mine. My palms find her tits, and she’s not wearing a bra, allowing me to pluck at her peaked nipples through her thin T-shirt. Her body responds to my every touch. Little moans and gasps escape her lips with each bite of my teeth and every sweep of my tongue.
This girl makes me primal.
“I thought you couldn’t be prettier.” I peel off her shirt and kiss down her throat. “But you topless on my workbench is a work of art.”
She gasps as I tease one of her nipples with my teeth. “I didn’t take you for an art connoisseur.”
“I’m not.” I lean lower, kissing her stomach as I undo her jeans. “And I’m not an artist, but it won’t stop me from painting you in cum.”
I slip off her shoes and socks.
Aimee bites her lower lip, planting her hands on the bench so she can lift her hips when I strip her pants and underwear off. Until she’s sitting in the center of the garage wearing nothing but that beautiful fucking smile.
The girl I handed my heart to when I was seventeen finally brings it home.
“You have a dirty fucking mouth.” She smirks.
I lean in, nipping at her lower lip. “You like it.”
Aimee grabs the back of my neck and brings her mouth to my ear. “I like it better when it’s between my legs.”
“Yes, ma’am.” My blood courses in my veins as I drop to my knees on the cement.
Aimee sits with her legs wide in front of me. And when my tongue lands between them, she fills the garage with echoes of her screams. The most beautiful sounds flood the space as she writhes and thrashes. Her hands grasp for anything to hold her in place, until she latches her fingers around the chains that hang on the wall behind her. I circle up to her clit and shove two fingers deep. Until her body shakes and the chains rattle.
She’s the best thing I’ve tasted.
Her sweet pussy grinds against my chin, making a mess of my face. And I lick her until her thighs muffle my ears and drown out all sound. Until she’s coming so hard her toes curl against my back.
When she finally relaxes, she’s shaking. But I don’t give her time to cool off because I need her more than my club or whiskey or air. I need this girl like she’s the electrical shock bringing life to my heart.
Shoving to my feet, I tug her off the workbench and flip her around to bend her over it.
“Be a good girl and hold on.” I free my cock and stroke it through her center.
Aimee grabs the ledge of the bench where it lifts slightly, and I drive my hips forward, fucking her hard and fast into it. Her ass bounces with every thrust, and she sings me a melody with her screams.
