Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 71949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
29
HAWK
Inside, the house is dim except for the light over the kitchen island. I pour a bourbon for me, wine for Daniela. We sit close on the couch, knees nearly touching, saying nothing for a long time. The silence isn’t awkward. It’s heavy, charged, as if we’ve never been together before.
She sets her wine down, staring into it as if it might give her answers. “Everything’s always spinning,” she murmurs.
“I know,” I say. “But we can stop it for a while.”
I pull her into my arms and crush my lips to hers.
She hesitates a moment, inhales, before she melts into the embrace and threads her fingers through my hair. The taste of her lips is perfection, and her kiss intoxicates me more than my bourbon can. It’s sweet, passionate, and carries the weight of unspoken words.
We break apart for air, our foreheads resting against one another. She stares into my eyes with a mixture of relief and fear. Underneath that fear, I see something else—a glimmer of hope. She takes a shaky breath.
“Can we really?” she whispers. “Can we really stop it all?”
I take her hand, bringing it up to rest on my chest. “We can for tonight,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. “For us. For this.”
She smiles, a little sadly, and curls her fingers against the fabric of my shirt. The intimacy of this moment both terrifies and comforts me. It’s not a cure, not a promise, but a respite—our own sanctuary from the spinning world.
I kiss her again, sliding my tongue between her lips and savoring the taste of her—the remnants of the wine and her own special sweetness.
God, I love this woman.
She’s so young, so…
Hell, I was about to think innocent, but innocent she’s not.
No.
Can’t think of that now. It will only bring rage.
So I concentrate simply on Daniela, on the sweet flavor of her tongue tangled with mine, the beautiful feeling of her hands as they caress my neck, my shoulders.
A gentle sigh escapes her lips. I feel it more than I hear it, a warm vibration against my chest, resonating within me, grounding me to this moment. To her.
Her touch feels like an anchor.
“I've missed you,” she breathes against my neck, her voice thick with emotion.
I pull back to look at her. “I've missed you, too,” I say, my voice cracking with emotion. “More than you'll ever know.”
Then my lips… Her lips… They meld together again. The kiss is hard. Hard and passionate. Raw and almost primal.
As if we’ve been away from each other for decades rather than days.
How can I live without her?
I can’t. I won’t. The test…
No. Can’t go there. Not now.
My cock aches. Now is only the time to be with Daniela. To make love to her. Again and again and again and again.
I slide one hand under her tunic. Her skin is soft and warm, and I glide up to her breast, cupping it. I thumb her hard nipple through her bra.
She gasps at the contact, her responsive squirm sending a jolt of desire through me. I want her. I want her. I need to taste every inch of her, to feel her body writhe beneath mine.
She tugs my shirt out of my jeans, begins to unbutton it.
God, the feel of her fingers on my flesh…
I want her. I ache for her. I need her.
My cock pulses so hard it may break out of my jeans.
And we kiss.
We kiss and we kiss and we kiss, our teeth clashing, our lips gliding, our breaths mingling, our groans in complete sync.
She slides my shirt off my shoulders, her touch igniting flames inside me.
“Daniela,” I growl, the sound low and rough from the raw need coursing through me.
She answers me with another kiss, pressing her body close to mine. I can feel her heart drumming, the rhythm matching the pulse pounding in my ears.
We kiss again, even more animalistic this time.
Until I rip my mouth from her.
“Bedroom,” I pant out.
Then, without waiting for an answer, I rise, swoop her into my arms, and carry her to my room.
But I can’t wait for the bed.
No.
Not yet.
I set her on a chair, pull her shoes and leggings and panties off, open my jeans and free my cock, and then lift her, pin her against the wall, and thrust up into that hot little pussy.
She cries out, gripping my shoulders tightly.
Fuck, she’s tight.
Tight and slick and perfect.
I groan as I press deeper, and she wraps her legs around my waist.
No finesse, no lengthy foreplay. Just raw need. I thrust into her again and again, each movement drawing a gasp or whimper from her and leaving me breathless.
“Daniela,” I gasp, pressing my forehead against hers.
“Hawk,” she whispers back, her voice shaky.
She slides her fingers into my hair as she tightens around me.
We move in tandem, two bodies entwined. Somehow, even against the wall, legs wrapped around me, she matches every move I make.