Havoc (Storm MC #8)

His body relaxed a little against mine and one of his hands moved to cup my breast. I dropped my face to watch his fingers working my nipple. Havoc’s hands were one of my favourite parts of him. They were large and strong. Powerful. But to me, they were also safe. I always felt protected in his hold. It was a feeling I couldn’t even begin to understand, having not known him very long, but when his hands touched me, I had this unwavering sensation that no harm would come to me while with him.

I placed a hand over his, running my fingers over the chunky ring he wore to interlock our fingers. He wore two chunky rings, one on each hand, and a leather wrist cuff on his right wrist. He also wore a silver necklace with a yin yang pendant. It surprised me he wore all that jewellery because he was so masculine, but it only showed me further proof there was more to Havoc than met the eye.

As I laced my fingers through his, he sucked in a breath and slid his other hand down my body to run his finger through my heat. Groaning as he discovered my wetness, he pushed his finger deep inside me.

“Oh, God…” I laid my head back and rested it on his shoulder. Closing my eyes, I welcomed every drop of pleasure he gave me.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” His gravelly voice vibrated along my skin, carrying more bliss with it.

I bit my lip, not wanting to come yet, but knowing it wouldn’t be long. “Yes.”

“Don’t.” The command in his tone was clear and I blinked my eyes open.

“I can’t stop it, Havoc.” Even as I said the words, another pulse of pleasure rippled through my body, bringing me closer to the edge.

He stopped what he was doing and spun me around. “Breathe through it and hold it back.” Still so commanding.

My whole body was alive with need and his bossy tone only intensified my desire. Staring at him, I nodded, but didn’t say a word. I couldn’t. I was too busy focusing on my breathing to get any words out.

He took in my nod and then dropped his eyes to roam my body. When he bent his head so he could take one of my nipples into his mouth while at the same time pulling my body to his, I moaned. His hands gripped my ass and his teeth grazed my breast. I held onto him, digging my fingers into his waist. I wanted to take hold of his cock and pleasure him, but my mind was shutting down as I fought my release. All I could manage in that moment was to hold on tight and breathe.

Havoc’s breathing picked up as he sucked and licked and bit my breasts. And his grip on my ass tightened until suddenly, he let my breasts go and he lifted me into his arms. A moment later, he deposited me on the bed before removing the rest of his clothes.

“Lie on your back,” he ordered as he moved over me.

Positioning his legs between mine, he slid his hand down my thigh and pulled my leg up to wrap around him. I instinctively did the same with my other leg. He kept that hand on my leg while his other hand was planted firmly on the bed next to me to hold him up. His eyes found mine right before he dipped his head to kiss me.

Rough.

Demanding.

Bliss.

Havoc’s kiss tore a whimper from my lips as he took what he needed. His kiss was almost violent, as if he’d wrapped all his fury and frustration into it. I poured all my own confusion and hurt into the kiss, and we matched each other’s demand for more.

His lips bruised mine.

My nails clawed at his body.

His powerful frame threatened to crush me.

My legs squeezed his torso.

We kissed and we clung and we raged.

My body begged him to take the pain from my soul.

His body pleaded for me to let him dominate.

Breathless.

Passion.

Anger.

Need.

We gave each other everything we had to give.

And we took everything we could.

From a kiss.

A kiss that broke down our walls.

And crashed through our denials.

A kiss that told me this was so much more than sex.

Fuck.

Havoc knifed up.

Staring down at me through ravaged eyes, he rasped, “Fuck.”

He feels it too.

He knelt on the bed between my legs just staring at me, his eyes wild and breathing ragged.

I pushed up so I was sitting in front of him with my legs spread wide. Taking hold of his face, I begged, “Don’t stop now. I need you to fuck me.”

His gaze traced my face for the longest time while he slowed his breathing down. When he finally found my eyes again, he said, “What the fuck are we doing, Carla?”

I knew exactly what he was asking, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it. Not yet. I kept holding onto his face. “That’s not a question for tonight.” My words were an answer and they were also a plea.

Don’t think about this now.

Just think about fucking me.

Eventually, he nodded and moved off the bed. Reaching out to me, he took hold of my hand and pulled me to a standing position. And then he lifted me and carried me into the bathroom.

In one movement, he cleared the vanity of my beauty products into the top drawer, and sat me on the cleared space. “Wait there,” he directed before leaving me to go back into the other room. When he returned, he had a condom on and my core clenched at the thought that he was finally going to give me what I craved.

Standing in front of me, he said, “Put your hands around my neck.”

His voice was so raw.

Frayed.