Page 18 of Haunted Hearts
Using my hip to pin her to the wall, I shift my weight just enough to slide one hand out from under her. I bring my eyes to hers, searching there for any sign of hesitation as my fingers trace along her inner thighs. Her eyes are wide, but she holds my gaze. Even as my fingertips find the lace of her panties, dipping ever so slightly beneath the elastic and meeting soft, soft skin, she doesn’t break my stare. Instead, she nods.
That nod is all I need. Pulling her skirt up so it’s completely around her waist now, I tug her panties to the side. Although her eyes are still on mine, I can’t help but look down to admire the view. Her slick, pink cunt is on full display, legs still spread on either side of me. I swipe my finger gently down the middle of her core and feel her shudder. Lydia isdripping.
I bring my eyes back to hers and hold her gaze as I lick clean the finger that just grazed her. Then, with the very tip of my finger, I begin tracing circles around her clit, keeping my rhythm steady even as she straight out the gate tries to shift her hips to get me to touch her clit itself.
I move my mouth once again to her ear. “Do I still need to prove it?”
“Yes,” she breathes. “Fuck yes.”
“Then let me do my job,” I growl.
Her only answer is a throaty groan as she lets her head fall back against the wall. But her hips still, and I feel her loosen against me. My fingers are slick with her wetness, and as I continue my circles around her swollen bud, it’s all I can do to keep it together.
And the way Lydia’s starting to writhe again, I can tell she’s sufficiently teased. I brush my thumb over her clit, and she bucks her hips against me. I stop my circling.
“Will,” she breathes. Her voice is mangled with want.
“Mm?” I’m enjoying baiting her. Bringing her to the edge.
“Aren’t you going to do your job?”
I let out a low chuckle. “You areimpatient, Ms. Chandler?—”
And then her lips are on mine and I’m cut off. She’s pulling my head toward hers, and is kissing me so savagely I’m honestly lost for a moment. Her lips taste so fucking good, and the way she’s got her hands on the back of my head, fingers tangled in my hair, is downright sinful. There’s no way I can say no to that. Not when she’s asking so nicely.
Breaking away from the kiss, I graze her earlobe with my teeth. “Message received.”
Then, yanking her panties to the side again, I slip one finger into her pussy, relishing the way she melts completely into me at that touch alone. She’s so fucking wet it takes only a couple of slides in and out before I add a second finger, plunging in and out of her as I work her clit with my thumb. She’s writhing under me, giving these little moans of pleasure right in my ear, but she lets me take the wheel.
All I want is to drop down to my knees and taste her, but my left hip is the only thing keeping her against the wall. And by now, Lydia’s breaths are so short and fast, her whimpering so insistent, that I think she might actually kill me if I stop what I’m doing.
So I keep on, plunging in and out, stroking her inner wall and trying not to let how tight she is distract me. My cock is straining at my jeans, basically begging me to be let loose, but it can wait. I already know I’m going to fuck my hand tonight while thinking of this woman.
Suddenly, Lydia gives a long, low moan, her fingers tangling tighter in my hair, and absolutely shatters. Her pussy clenches around my fingers, spasming with pleasure, but I keep my thumb on her clit while we ride out the wave together. I’m hornyas all hell, but I’m also high on Lydia’s pleasure. Turns out making someone who hates you come hard is an interesting kind of vindication.
Lydia drops her head back against the wall, and I can’t resist rubbing the scruff of my beard against the smooth skin of her neck before giving a playful bite to her ear lobe.
“Told you it’d be good.” I slide my fingers out of her pussy and suck them clean.
Lydia draws in a deep, shuddery breath. Her eyes flutter open, and we stare at each other. Now that the heat of the moment has broken, neither of us knows what to do. Some invisible line has been crossed, and I can tell that both our minds are racing, trying to figure out how the fuck to scramble back over it. I don’t think we can.
Gently, I lower Lydia to the floor, tugging her skirt back down around her ample hips. My cock’s still throbbing in my jeans, but I’m doing my best to ignore it. I hope she can’t see it.
Lydia re-centers her skirt around her waist. When she finally looks up at me, it’s like her face is made of stone—like she’s put on this mask that she doesn’t want me to see behind.
“You were right,” she says simply. “I stand corrected.”
That makes me grin. “Did I just hear you concede defeat?”
She tosses her hair, then nudges me aside so she can walk toward the door. “Don’t push your luck, Holloway. You either heard me or you didn’t.”
“Oh, I heard you, beautiful,” I say, following behind her. “It’s a damn good thing Nancy left early, because this wholebuildingwould’ve heard?—”
“Stop it,” Lydia hisses. “And don’t call me that.”
She comes up behind me, trying to shove me through the door and out into the foyer. I’m too big for her, though, and her slender little palms on my back don’t move me an inch. I flash agrin over my shoulder. She’s got me feeling cocky now, knowing I did my job well.
“This doesn’t change anything,” she says. Her cinnamon eyes narrow as she glares at me. “So you can make me come—so what? You’re still a self-centered asshole who cares more about how much money he’ll make than he does about what another person—or community—needs.”
