Page 287 of Heart So Hollow

She feels even better than I remember, clutching around my dick like she’ll never let go. And, soon, her cries turn to short whimpers that match the cadence of my hips. When I lift her ass to get a better grip on the headboard, her jaw drops and her chest caves.

She lets out a high-pitched moan, cursing between chaotic breaths, “Fuck, Colson…” she grinds out, “you win…oh, god, you fucking win…”

“Yeah, I won,” I growl into her cheek with unbridled arrogance, “as if you ever had a chance.”

Her breaths get shorter and more frantic. I don’t even have to work her clit, she’s so fucking turned on and I’m hitting her at just the right angle.

“You like fucking your stalker as much as you did last time?” I taunt her as she reaches for me again, pulling my mouth to hers. “Yeah, you do…” I drawl, teasing her with kisses, “you sick little slut…”

“Col…god…”

Tomayto-tomahto…

I pump my hips faster, feeling her entire body tense. “Oh, fuck!” she cries into my mouth, her body going rigid, “I’m gonna…ah!”

She takes it deep while the second orgasm rips through her, every sound she makes bringing me closer to the edge. My head rolls to the side, basking in her screams until I set my sights on my phone propped up against the lamp. I can’t resist grinning at the screen with a deranged sense of satisfaction while I finish her, admiring her legs bouncing from the crooks of my elbows while I impale her against my headboard.

Gradually, her movements slow to smooth waves. “Don’t stop, Col,” she pleads, trembling with the aftershocks. Her voice nearly takes me out at the knees as she pulls my face back to her, lashes fluttering with a crooked grin, “Come inside me like you promised.”

“Anything to make my girl happy…” As soon as I lock on her eyes, my jaw drops and I bury my dick in her so deep that my hips just pulse against hers. I come so hard that I drop her legs and she collapses into my lap, taking me in to the hilt. I grab her body and press my face into her neck, feeling the vibrations of her vocal cords on my lips while I fill her like she wants. My tongue trails over her veins, drinking up her sweat because she still tastes so damn good.

I can’t decide whether it’s a blessing or a curse, being as close as I can to her without splitting her in two, because it’s still not close enough. She’s still the cosmic pulse, the heartbeat I feel in the earth, and I’ll never be able to dig deep enough.

When our breathing slows and our chests rise and fall with one another, I brush the stray hairs away from her face, “Say it, Honeybee,” then I tip her chip up to meet my eyes, “tell me what I am to you, and mean it.”

Brett’s eyes flutter and she looks up at me, her chest heaving while her pussy contracts around my dick, binding her to me once again, “I love you, Col…” she whimpers, still dazed from her orgasm, “you’re…you’re my only.”

“Yeah,” I drawl, brushing my lips over hers, “yeah, I am…”

Then I shift my gaze and stare through the glass, through the lens, through each microscopic component, and through the ether…

And then I wink at him.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

Brett

One Year Ago

For a split second, I thought I killed him.

I thought I’d feel his blood spatter across my face and I’d stand over his dead body in triumph for being such a monster and putting me through years of hell. For a split second, I felt relief. Because to seek vengeance is to steal back something that was taken unjustly. I felt powerful, but it didn’t last. The high plummeted, crashing and burning in an inferno of abject horror, loss, despair, and hopelessness.

Because Colson isn’t the one I hate. Far from it.

And, when he didn’t fall away, when I realized he was still standing before me, unscathed, I could breathe again. Something sparked in my chest and I felt alive—really alive.

Granted, there was no way in hell I was going to tell Colson that right then. Especially after he’d been such an asshole and said all those god-awful things to me that made me want to shoot him in his goddamn face.

But afterward, I don’t know how long I stood in front of the mirror in the upstairs bedroom, staring through my eyes and into my own soul.

You would’ve done it. You would’ve killed a man. You would’ve killed him. You have it in you, and this is part of you now.

Maybe I shouldn’t shove this down and try to ignore it like so many other things in my past.

Keep it. You might need it for later.

I might’ve tried to kill Colson. But later, when I was laying in the dark, and things got quiet again, I found myself outside his door, asking him to let me inside. I’m used to being alone, it’s how I’ve lived for most of my adult life. I’ve also spent much of my adult life running from Colson. But last night, being on the other side of a hallway from him suddenly felt like the cruelest form of isolation imaginable.

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