Chapter 31

Jamie

There's a feeling that I sometimes crave, of a guy just slamming his dick in. My cunt was wet, swollen, yet not entirely ready, and somehow that's exactly what I wanted. It was as if the pleasure had teeth to it, scoring my skin, wringing every bit of sensation out of me. It got deeper, harder, more intense as he laid me down then forced himself into me.

He was thick enough that part of me wondered at the wisdom of what I'd asked for, each stroke like a punch deep inside me, but damn me if I didn't feel every inch. There was no mistaking what was happening. I was being fucked hard and deep, and a great blossom of pleasure was unfurling inside me.

"Feel that?" he ground out, my eyes locking with his. "Feel me? This is the way it's supposed to be. Me deep inside you, us locked together." He reared back and that had me clawing at the sheets. The change of angle meant that blunt instrument was hitting my G-spot with every stroke. I felt like a balloon being filled with water, my skin thin, and all I could do was let out some inarticulate noise in response. Then his thumb went to my clit, rubbing it in time with his strokes. "Like that, huh?"

"Yesss…" I hissed, my eyes going wide, because this was all going to come to a head way too fast. Part of me wanted to clutch at this pleasure, or shove it away, the sensation far too intense. Maybe just make it last forever? This golden moment where it hurt so good, my body clamping down, trying to hold him where he was. His strokes shortened as if sensing that, focussing there.

Sometimes when someone started hitting just the right spot, that pleasure got weird. It was like the boundaries inside me that kept the sensation in familiar territory were broken down and I was in freefall. I stared into Hayden's eyes, a sweaty smile crossing his face, as if he knew exactly what was happening, and I clung to that certainty.

"You're gonna burst."

Yes, that described the feeling perfectly. Like really needing to pee and the pleasure of being fucked had some mutant child, and as my pulse raced, my mind sought some sort of indication of whether I was going to come or I needed to pull free and rush to the toilet. Instead, his thumb moved faster.

"I…"

"Burst all over my cock." His mouth fell open, his brow creasing as his jaw muscle flexed.

"No… no…"

I clawed at him, clawed at comprehension, needing some kind of map to navigate this, but I wasn't going to get it.

"Trust me, Jamie." The smile faded and something ragged and desperate rose instead. "It'll be so fucking good. Just let yourself go. I've got you."

And that's when he took my ability to make conscious decisions away.

His angle shifted again, smashing into something that exploded with every stroke, and they got longer and harder, giving it to me just as brutally as I'd asked for. I was battered and buffered, lost in a sea of ecstasy so savage it took my breath away.

And my control.

This pleasure was hot, liquid, scalding me, forcing a scream out as it all came rushing out. I gushed, little spurts of fuck knows what pushed out with every blissful pulse of my cunt, the waves stirred up and spurred on as he joined me.

"Oh fuck… Oh fuck…"

His hands slapped down beside my head and he hung over me, his stricken look a mirror of my own. We were like the survivors of a natural disaster, each staring at the other, looking for answers, but we wouldn't find them. Instead, my hands shot up to grab his head and I pulled him down on top of me, not able to countenance even the tiniest gap between us. He rallied quickly, holding me tight.

"It's OK," he murmured as I started to shake. My nervous system decided it had gone into overdrive and couldn't work out how to wind down. Each gentle stroke helped ground me, bring me back to my room, my eyes seeing the diffuse light coming in through the window, the hum of traffic just audible beyond the windows. That growing awareness had an unpleasant side effect, though, because while sex was always messy, this time I was left feeling… soggy.

"What the fuck…?" I peeled our bodies apart enough to look down the line of us. "Did I?—?"

"Squirt?" I never mistook Hayden for Hunter, but I could've right now, his smug expression a mirror of his twin's. "Yeah, you did."

"Squirt?" I pulled away abruptly, gasping when I felt him slide free. He'd said I'd feel him after he was done and he was right. Not pain per say, but feeling well used, the burn was often a pleasant thing, but when I saw the wet spot on the bed, I wasn't so sure. "Ew, is that pee?"

"Science is still trying to work that out," he replied with a shrug, looking completely unfazed by this until I started to get out of bed. "All I know is its fucking hot. I hope it felt as good for you as it did for me, because that damn near took my head off."

"I need to clean up," I said, ignoring his warm words and gaze. Memories, dim and hazy, of Mum discovering me having had an accident as a child, rose up and told me exactly what I needed to do.

"No, you don't." Hayden bundled the quilt up and then walked out of the room with it, looking like some kind of golden god and when he returned it was with a couple of towels. He laid one down and placed me on it, then knelt on the bed, gently separating my thighs. "How're you feeling?" He went to work, cleaning me up with all of the care and gentleness of a nurse. "Not too sore?"

His concern was real, but so was that slight smirk, there and gone again.

"You like that idea?" I asked, reaching for the towel to take over, but he resisted, finishing the job and then tossing it to the floor before joining me back in bed.

"Hurting you? No fucking way. But a little tender?" He stroked my body as he got closer, tucking me in against him as his hand cupped my arse. "Yeah, I think we both like that."

I buried my face into the hollow of his neck to mask the flush of my cheeks. What I'd asked for so boldly, seemed shocking right now.

"And that happens every time…?"

"Squirting?" He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Nope. Sometimes you can hit the right spot or go in at the exact angle needed. She's feeling it and is relaxed and…" I felt his shoulders shift into a shrug. "It just happens. It's hot. To me it means a girl was so relaxed, trusts me enough to just let go, and that? I like that the best." His head tilted down, his eyes searching mine until I was forced to look up. "That's a gift, not something to be embarrassed about."

When he stroked my hair, my eyes fell closed, waves of exhaustion threatening to drown me.

"But did it feel good?" he asked.

"So good…"

Hayden had gotten what he wanted. My boundaries were down and all I could do was take deeper and deeper breaths, the smell of him in my nose. He held me as I slowly went limp against him.

My dream was hot, dark red, and formless, and I spun in that bloody space feeling something foreign: satisfaction. I couldn't want for a single other thing while I hung here, but of course, that couldn't last. The slow, soft sounds of someone else's snores had my eyelids fluttering and then opening.

The light pooling in on the floor had turned golden, making clear that hours had passed, but that didn't hold my attention, he did. Hayden's face was slack with sleep, and yet that brutal bone structure was clear, my fingers itching to trace the line of one sharp cheekbone, his lips the only soft part of him. It felt like I could stare at him until my eyes burned out in my head, but I couldn't. Slowly, carefully, I tried to pull away, but he snorted, a small frown forming as his arms tightened around me.

"Hey…" Eyes, open and unfocused, stared at me and then blinked until he saw where he was and with who. "Where were you sneaking off to?"

"Well, I need to put my quilt through the wash."

"Already ran the wash cycle." He tugged me back down again and then nestled into me. "Stay."

"And I have to get ready to catch up with Millie tonight."

"Going to the pub?" His eyes flicked back open, clear now. "We could make a night of it."

"I…"

My brain raced, trying to come up with an excuse, those old instincts rising. Put some distance between us, they screamed. Don't let them get too close. He smiled, shaking his head.

"And you want girl time with my sister. I get it." He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then another sweeter, softer one to my lips. "Just maybe don't regale her tales of our exploits?"

"Oh my god," I said, pulling away, "if I tried to mention your dick in any context, she'd be projectile vomiting everywhere."

My eyes trailed down his body to see the cock that had brought me so much pleasure was starting to stiffen. It was tempting, to stay in bed, or the shower, maybe the couch, and see if we could replicate what had happened, but… In some ways, bad sex was easier to cope with. If a guy was lying there enjoying the afterglow and I wasn't, I felt safe, untouchable. Nothing he did could penetrate my boundaries, but this? In theory, endless pleasure sounded like heaven, but right now it was just scary. I wouldn't know where I started and he ended, and that's why I pulled free, padding out the room and into the shower.

"You're freaking out." My head jerked up from under the water, my eyes opening a crack before I was forced to put my head back and allow the shampoo to wash away. Hayden padded closer, wearing shorts now. "That's OK. I expected that."

"What?"

I dashed the water away and looked at him more clearly.

"I'm surprised you didn't go running out the front door, though I guess the fact this is your place is what stopped you." I dimly felt the spray beating down on my skin, a white-hot feeling washing through me despite the cool of the water. "That's something I'll remember for later."

"Later?" I asked dumbly.

"Yeah, later." He shot me a cocky smile. "When are you catching up with your family next?"

"Tomorrow for a family barbecue. That's what Brock was ringing about," I replied. "Mum asked me to invite him, but I obviously didn't do that quickly enough, because she rang him herself. He wanted to check with me to see if I was cool with that."

"Take me," he insisted.

"What?"

"Take me. If you keep bringing Brock around, he's gonna be the one she fixates on, and while I'm fairly sure you'll never choose the guy your mum likes, if you go with me, it'll throw her off the scent."

"Or make her more determined," I muttered, smoothing the soap over me. There was an odd kind of logic about what he was saying. I'd invented three boyfriends for a reason so… "But OK, you're on. If I can walk straight…"

I was questioning some of my life decisions as my hand slipped lower. My clit was sensitive and swollen and he said he wanted me to feel him after he was gone, and I would. The low down, deep sensation was like an after burn, part pleasure, part ache. Not as intense as orgasm, but a constant reminder of it. He watched my hand move with great interest until I was forced to snatch it back.

"You'll walk just fine." Hayden looked terribly pleased with himself. "And if you can't, I'll carry you."

"No, you won't." A thin thread of panic in my voice had him grinning, then pulling the glass shower door open as he leaned in. "Hayden?—"

He silenced me with a kiss, that somehow ten times more intimate than anything else that'd happened since he walked in the door. Because this was a foreshadowing of a future where he had stayed the night, maybe his own toiletries were lined up on the shower caddy beside mine, his towel hung up on the railing.

That's what had me pulling back and blinking as I stared at him.

"Tomorrow," he promised. "What time?"

I told him.

"I'll pick you up," I said.

"Nope." His grin was so much brighter than it had been when he walked in through my door. "I'll come by and take you there, be a proper ‘fake' boyfriend. Now be good and don't let my sister talk you into doing anything stupid."

I spluttered at that, but he was walking away with a whistle, out of my bathroom, of my apartment. Left alone in my bedroom and towelling myself dry, I felt like I could take a full breath for the first time since Hayden arrived. So why did I hear the echo of it fill the room? I looked around and wondered what was missing. My bed was still a mess, the discarded towels had been picked up and put in the laundry apparently, but otherwise, everything was as it was supposed to be.

Him, I realised. It wasn't just my body feeling the absence of Hayden, but my mind, my heart. I gritted my teeth and towelled my hair dry roughly before getting dressed for tonight.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," Millie said as I walked towards her bar. It was still early so the place was mainly filled with regulars who spent their weekends here sipping on drinks. Her eyes narrowed, and it wasn't at the old bloke getting flirty with one of her barmaids. "Hang on, why do you look different? Did you put makeup on?"

I touched the corner of my eyes.

"Some mascara, but?—"

"That's not it." As she pointed a shaky finger at me, the blokes at the bar turned to stare. "You… You…"

"Having a brain aneurysm finally, Mills?" I drawled. "I'll call 000 for you."

"You got laid!"

Annie, one of the older women who had been working at the pub since its inception, stopped in her tracks and spun around, looking me over closely.

"More than that," she said. I took a step back, trying to escape their collective gaze. "That's a girl that got the good D."

"That right?" A deep masculine voice accompanied a pair of strong hands that clamped down on my shoulders, forcing me to look up. At first glance, I thought Hayden had decided to ignore what I said, but that sharp grin was all Hunter. "Hay Bale looked after you good, did he, Jamie?"