60. Darcy

CHAPTER 60

DARCY

In his bedroom, Hayden carefully pulls his t-shirt over his head before tossing it onto the chair. His hands come to his belt.

"I'll do it." I push his hands aside, and he lets out a long, heavy exhale, watching me with heat flickering behind the exhaustion in his eyes.

I unbuckle his belt, and emotion expands in my chest. My fingers slip into the waistband of his boxers. When I push them off, his erection springs free, and my mouth waters.

Hayden's cock is beautiful. It's long and thick, more than what I'm used to and a little intimidating, but the muscles between my legs clench in anticipation.

I wrap my hand around it and his breath stutters. Beneath my fingers, his length is hard like steel.

"You're so warm." My other hand comes to his balls, and he lets out a rough exhale.

"Darce." His hand covers mine, pausing my movements.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Fuck no." Our eyes meet, a question rising in his.

He's not used to being put first. All those years supporting others, making sure others are okay and having fun .

"Let me get you off first," he says.

I shake my head. "Not tonight." I give him a soft, encouraging smile, gripping his cock a fraction harder, and his eyelids dip. "Please?"

He laughs, probably because he's learning at the same time that I am that he has no defense against me when I use that word.

"Okay. If you're sure."

"I am really"—I give him a long stroke, and his breath hitches—"really, sure."

"Can you take the jersey off?"

My mouth curves. "What's the matter, you don't like it?"

He huffs a tight laugh. "I like it. I really fucking like it, I just—" He rakes a hand through his hair, hesitating. "I like your tits more. I spent a long time picturing them before." He swallows, pupils tipping black. "Years."

My pulse throbs between my legs, and my mind spins with the high of being wanted by Hayden like this. Slowly, I pull the jersey over my head, then my sweater and t-shirt. I take my jeans off at a criminally slow rate, fizzing with delight at the tortured, desperate look on Hayden's handsome face as I stand there in a new lingerie set—a dark maroon and sheer enough for him to see the pinched, aching points of my nipples. A tiny bow is sewn between my breasts, and when his eyes land on it, I know he wants to tug it with his teeth.

"How's this?" I whisper.

He just swallows, staring at my body with a pained look. His cock twitches against his stomach, beading with moisture.

His eyes lift to mine, dark and drugged, and he swallows again. "New?"

I smile. "Yes. You bought this for me." A couple of mornings ago, he left a gift card for the lingerie store on the kitchen counter for me .

He works his jaw, tracing the lines of the lingerie over my chest and shoulders, then down to my hips and thighs. His breathing is ragged and uneven, his broad and chiseled chest rising and falling fast.

"Do you like it?" My fingers trail over the lace bra cup.

He follows my movements, nodding, and I bite my lip. I love toying with him like this.

"Do you want to come with me to the shop some time and help me pick a few things out?"

He nods again, and I try not to chuckle at the way his erection pulses. I picture us shopping for lingerie, Hayden shoving the velvet curtain of the dressing room aside and slipping his fingers inside my panties, whispering at me to be quiet so the others in the store don't overhear as he makes me come.

"Do you think you could sit nicely outside the dressing room while I tried on lacy things?"

With a helpless expression, he shakes his head. I laugh.

His mouth tilts in a boyish, playful grin. "Take it off, please."

Hayden's gaze follows my every movement as I slip my bra and thong off, until I'm standing naked in front of him, goosebumps rising on my skin under the weight of his adoring gaze.

I wish we could do this forever, but I know we can't. That isn't who he is, isn't what he wants.

I wish things were different, though.

"You are so fucking beautiful, Darcy," he says, like a curse and a prayer. "I've always thought that."

My skin flushes, and my gaze drops to the wide expanse of his chest. A red and purple bruise is already blooming under the skin on his shoulder, and worry lodges in my throat. Once he gets in bed, I'm not letting him out of it. He's going to sleep for twelve hours, minimum.

First, though, I'm going to make him come so hard he passes out. So hard he remembers it for years, long after we're done. My knees hit the floor and he mutters an oh, fuck . I just smile. It's time for Hayden to get the attention he deserves.

At an unhurried pace, I brush my lips up and down his length, looking up at him through my lashes. His skin is scorching hot and velvet soft. His cock is so hard my ego gets a permanent boost. And when my tongue darts out to taste the bead of moisture at his tip, a moan tears out of him.

That look of disbelief he's wearing, like this is the best thing to happen to him? I'm drunk on it.

I take him between my lips and slide my tongue along his length. His eyelids fall heavy with his rushed exhale. I let him bump the back of my throat, and he groans, low and needy, before I add suction, keeping him there. At his sides, his hands flex and clench. I reach for one and place it on my head.

His gaze burns hotter. His other hand settles on the back of my head, and heat wavers through me. I love being in this position, kneeling before him, letting him know how much I want him and how special and important he is to me. I pull back, sucking the swollen head, and he winces like the pleasure is too much. Around his thick circumference, I smile.

He hasn't seen anything yet.

My hand wraps around his base and slowly, so freaking slowly, I suck Hayden's cock. His brow is damp with sweat. His breath saws in and out of his chest, and his fingers tense against my scalp as he struggles to keep his eyes open and on me. If it's anything like this when Hayden goes down on me, I completely understand why he said your pleasure is my pleasure .

"God, your mouth is heaven," he moans with tortured hunger in his eyes.

I add even more suction, dragging my flattened tongue over the sensitive underside, studying how his muscles tense.

His eyes burn me as I take him all the way to the back of my throat. His jaw clenches and the eye contact between us is like an electric current crackling through me.

His hips tilt, pushing him deeper into my mouth as I move up and down his length. Eventually, he takes over, fucking my mouth slow and steady with a tight jaw and dark eyes, making the dirtiest, neediest noises. Each moan sends moisture pooling between my legs, and if I were to reach down and run my fingers over myself, I'd come within a minute.

His fingers tighten in my hair; his breathing is uneven, and for a brief moment, he looks up at the ceiling like he's praying.

"I'm close," he begs. "So fucking close."

So I slow down.