Page 10 of His Hellcat

What was I thinking? If the man who claimed he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me found me lacking, even after I changed everything to please him, then a man like Hutch would never, ever want me.

With that thought the dam breaks and tears fall freely. Even though I felt drawn here, I never should have come. I wasn’t prepared for any of this. I came to lick my wounds and regroup, not fall into lust with my brother’s best friend overnight. How ridiculous am I? My decision to stop my pity party last night was obviously premature. I can give myself another day or ten. Hell, at this rate I'll just chug down that curdled milk and wait for a refill.

Completely lost in my own misery, I don’t hear the door open or Hutch crossing the room to me. I’m completely oblivious until I find myself surrounded by his strong arms and my head cradled to his chest. The fact that I’m once again crying in his arms has another sob ripping through me. Stupid fucking tears.

“I’m sorry, Kitten. Don’t cry.” His voice is pleading and laced with pain.

I take a fortifying breath and pull away from him. I find myself instantly missing the comforting strength of his hold, but at the same time, I’m desperate for distance. I’m just not equipped to handle his closeness right now. If I were to go with my instincts and throw myself into his arms and lose myself, I don’t think I’ll be able to survive another rejection from him.

Shane was a huge hit, but just one day without him and I already recognize how wrong we were for each other. How toxic our relationship actually was. I can easily move on from that douche, but Hutch is a whole different beast.

I wipe my tears away, meet his troubled gaze and lie. “It’s okay, Hutch. No worries.”

“No, really it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have touched you.”

I cut him off before he can slice into me with more rejection. “Look, it’s fine, really. If you don’t mind, could you drive me into town? I’ll tell the rental agency where they can pick up their piece of shit car, hop on the next plane home, and be out of your hair.”

The shocked look on his face is almost humorous, but the hurt look in his eyes makes me pause. I’m too raw to ponder on it, though. I grab a pair of cut-offs from the dresser and send a silent prayer that they will fit over my ass. What I wouldn’t give to have had the foresight to pack a damned bag, I’ll have to better prepare for the next time I catch my best friend and my fiancé fucking in my bed.

“You don’t have to leave, Blake.”

I simply shrug. Apparently, it’s the wrong move, though. The next thing I know I’m being pulled back into his arms. When I try to pull away, his arms tighten around me and he tangles his hand in my hair, pulling lightly until my face is tilted up to his. My entire being is begging for his lips, desperate for him to set me free from this horrible self-doubt. I hate myself for craving his approval. History has dictated that it's the first step to losing my identity. Then again, since I haven't figured out who I am without Shane's influence yet, maybe Hutch can help me figure it out. Which is a completely dangerous thought to have about a man. Especially one that doesn't want me.

Hutch inches closer to me, his lips a mere hairbreadth from mine. My heart is pounding in my chest and my nipples pebbling against my shirt. Lust thrums through my veins, spreading like a wildfire.

“Stay.” A command, not a question.

“What’s the point? Why stay when it’s obvious that you don’t want me?” Even to my own ears I sound defeated, pathetic.Buck the fuck up, Blake. “Just… just take me to town. Please.”

“You think I don’t want you, Kitten?” He growls into my ear, fingers tightening in my hair as he scrapes his stubble across my neck and nips my tender flesh. “All I’ve been able to think about is getting inside that tight little pussy of yours.”

To prove his point, he presses his length into my stomach and tightens the iron-like grip he has around my back.

“Feel what you do to me?”

I nod, unable to even process what's happening. He actually does want me? It’s such a contradiction to what happened just a few moments ago that my mind can’t make sense of it. Did I misunderstand the situation?

“It’s just…” I don’t get a chance to finish my thought because Hutch crashes his lips to mine.

All the fight drains from my body and I fall into his kiss. His lips are soft but firm as they move over mine. He gently sucks my bottom lip between his and my lips part on a moan allowing him entrance. Then his tongue is slicking over mine as he deepens the kiss, causing my toes to curl. Throwing caution to the wind, I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling myself flush against him.

My nipples ache, still sensitive from his earlier attention, and I’m wetter than I’ve been in my entire life. Mindless with desire, I begin grinding against him. I can feel his cock—it’s hard between us as it rubs against my lower stomach. I wait for the insecurities to bombard me. For the constantly nagging voice in my head to say I’m too fat, too short, or just plain not good enough for him. But it is blissfully silent.

Hutch does that for me. Even after his earlier rejection, I don’t feel lacking. His sheer size compliments me in a way I have never experienced before. He makes me feel small, delicate even. It is something I’ve never felt, despite my petite stature. He’s hard where I’m soft, making my curves feel feminine and sexy. The press of his body against mine is utter perfection.

He pulls his lips from mine, releasing my hair, he cups my cheek. “Blake, I shouldn’t do this with you. I should respect you and your brother enough to walk away, but it’s too fucking late now.” His look is fierce, determined. “You’re mine.”

Then his lips are back on mine. He cups my ass as he devours me, lifting me from my feet and carrying me back to his room. I wrap my legs tight around his waist, groaning when his cock lines up perfectly with my pussy. Using my toes, I push against the waistband of his boxer briefs, desperate to feel more of him. The material is caught between our bodies and I quickly give up, focusing my attention on the way he rubs against me with each step.

I cry out when he tosses me to the bed, the abrupt loss of contact is nearly painful. Quickly enough, though, his hands are back, carelessly tearing my clothes from my body until I’m completely bared to him. I don’t have a moment to feel self-conscious about my nudity because his mouth is on my pussy before I can even consider it. Hutch licks at me like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted. I’ve never been a fan of oral—it’s always made me uncomfortable—but the way he’s eating at me is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

His tongue flicks back and forth over my clit, then slowly circles, teasing me until I’m a puddle of need desperate for release. I bury my hands in his hair and pull him closer needing more. As if he knows exactly what I crave, he slicks his fingers through my folds and dips inside me. He fills me with two thick digits, fucking me slowly while his tongue laps at my clit.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yourself on my fingers.” His words encourage me to take my pleasure from him. I lift my hips frantically, pushing towards his mouth and those glorious fingers, doing exactly as he said—fucking myself, using him for my pleasure.

I’m so close. I can feel my orgasm coming, but it’s just out of reach, tormenting me. Hutch changes the angle of his fingers and every movement hits just the right spot causing my pussy to gush. The wet sounds are lewd, and I’d be embarrassed if my orgasm didn’t pick that exact moment to crash over me. I’m knocked breathless with it. My entire body seizes and my pussy grips his fingers. My clit is so sensitive every brush of his tongue is almost painful, but I ride wave after wave of pleasure.

I’m still trying to catch my breath when his lips find mine, kissing me deeply. I can taste myself on him. It’s dirty and erotic and I want more.

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