“Do you want more?” he asked, and I wondered if he could read my thoughts. But he looked at me, his eyes clouded with lust, and carried me on his cock, pushing me up against the wall of the hotel room, sending another jolt of arousal rippling through my body.
“Yes.” I gasped the words as he rammed me with his cock. I couldn’t think. Pleasure clouded my brain, making it impossible to think about anything else except what Hammer was doing.
His movements grew faster, and waves of pleasure washed over me, growing more and more intense as he brought me higher and higher. I clutched at his back, dug my fingernails into him, each of his thrusts bringing me closer to the edge.
"Fuck, Meia," he said, his voice close to my ear. His lips were on the side of my neck, my jawline. "You feel so fucking good."
I moaned, lost in his touch. Lost in my own pleasure. I had never known sex could feel the way this felt. I'd never known someone could turn me inside out, the way Hammer seemed to be able to do to me with his touch.
"Tell me," he whispered. "Tell me how it feels."
I could barely speak. "It feels..." I groaned as his thrusts grew shorter, deeper, more focused on pushing me over the edge. I couldn't come up with a coherent sentence, drunk on my lust for him. "It feels...amazing."
He thrust inside me again, this time harder than the last, sending another ripple of pleasure from my core to the tips of my fingers and my toes. "How about now?"
"Yes," I said. "Like that. Harder."
"Shit, Meia," Hammer groaned, slamming into my harder again, faster. My back pressed up against the wall hard, and I arched into him, willing him deeper inside me.
"Yes, yes," I moaned. "More." It was all I could think, all I wanted.
More of him.
All of him.
"Fuck, Meia," he said. "I'm going to come." Hearing him say it pushed me over the edge, and I heard myself scream as I arched hard against him. He thrust into me in quick succession, once, twice, three times, and I felt myself fall over the edge. I was lost in sensation, and nothing else mattered.
Nothing except Hammer.
I was still, my arms entwined around his neck, my legs wrapped around his waist. I stayed that way, with my head on his shoulder, for a long time. The only thing I was aware of was the sound of our breathing, of Hammer's chest rising and falling, of my heart beating in time with his. In that moment, he was my whole world. Nothing else mattered. We were the only two people in the universe.
Later, we lay on the bed silently. Even though my body was relaxed, my mind was already preoccupied, beginning to churn again with thoughts, barely quieted by the afterglow of orgasm. Hammer stroked my hair, his touch gentle, and something about the tenderness of his touch sent a rush of guilt through me.
I had no business getting him involved in this.
It was selfish, the way I'd begun to see him, the way I'd allowed this to continue when it shouldn't.
I couldn't let this go on. Not after the way he'd been hurt when April died.
It wasn't fair to him.
I hadn't expected to care so much.
"Killing the men who murdered your wife," I said. "Did it help?" I traced my finger around the muscles on his chest, feeling something stir within my core as I touched him. I willed the feeling to go away. I needed to tell him that this was the end.
"With what?" he asked, his lids half closed.
"The darkness."
He stroked my hair. "Maybe," he said, exhaling heavily. "I think it might have made it worse. I think it might have awakened something in me. Or maybe it was always there."
"I've been thinking about Aston for a long time. Since I was a child. Since my sister hung herself."
"If you think I'm going to tell you that killing him is a bad idea, you're mistaken," he said.
"No," I said, pulling myself up to look at him, my breasts pressed against his chest. "I want to kill him. It's the only thing that's kept me going, since I was young. I didn’t care if I died getting revenge. Then Ben was born and he became my reason for living.”
"And now?"
"I'm not sure I'll get out of this alive," I said. "I used to hold out hope. But now...I'm not sure Ben or I is making it out of this."
He started to speak, but I pulled myself up higher on his chest, touched my finger to his lips, silencing him. "Don't," I said. "I don't want to hurt you. It's not good for you...this, whatever this thing is between us. It should stop, before it goes further. Before either of us becomes too attached."
I rolled her over, flipping her onto her back on the bed, her hair splayed out behind her on the crisp white bedspread. My hands were on her wrists, pinning her arms above her head. Her eyes widened, and I saw her breath catch in her throat as my hardness pressed between her legs. I didn't move, not trusting myself to keep from just plunging into her.
Everything was mixed up, lust and anger running through me. "If you think I'm going to fucking cut and run at this point, you are sorely mistaken."
"I don't think I'm good for you -"