Page 31 of Slay Bells Ring

I roll onto my side, a smirk tugging at my lips in spite of myself. “Who are you calling old?”

“You, obviously. Did you not hear me? Maybe you need to adjust the settings on your hearing aid or something—” Oh, she’s egging me on. She’s poking the bear to get a reaction.

As I scoot toward her, I roll her onto her side so that her back is against my chest. I snake a single arm up her front, between her tits, and grab her jaw, forcing her to look back at me. “If I’m so old, what does that make you?” Leaning against her body, it doesn’t take long for my cock to harden once more.

Seriously, I’m raring to go again. It’s unheard of—and not because I’mold.

Holly practically hums in my grip. “A girl with a thing for old men?” she suggests, her luscious lips curled into a sensuous smile.

“Let me show you just hownotold I am,” I tell her before I kiss her. The taste of her lips fills me with satisfaction. She’s sweet, like honey on my tongue. I want to fucking drown in her… but I’ll settle for fucking her again.

I pull my mouth off hers the same moment the hand cupping her jaw moves to her leg. I lift that leg up and lean it back over mine, and then I position myself at her entrance from my spot behind her. She arches her back a bit, but the action is unnecessary; my cock is plenty long enough to spear her from behind like this.

It’s like my cock knows where to go. My tip prods her slick entrance, and I push inside her once again, my whole body shuddering as I fill her up from a new angle.

Fuck. I really could get addicted to this. To her. To the way her body feels when it’s against mine. To how her pussy takes my length and tightens around it when she’s lost in her own pleasure.

There’s no hitmen. No body out back. There’s no wound on my shoulder or on my chest, nor are there injuries on her feet. There’s no bad blood between us. It’s just Holly and me and the carnal hunger we feel for the other.

The sound Holly makes when I push into her from this angle is soft and feminine, and her head is still tilted back. Can’t have full eye contact, but it’s enough. I love watching the way her facial expression changes, when the muscles in her face slacken as she gives in. She’s beautyincarnate, and I don’t deserve the sight, let alone the sensation of being buried inside her slick, wet pussy.

But right now, that pussy is mine, as is the girl.

It’s not the best position to fuck in, but I don’t care. I’m inside her, and that’s all that matters. Once I have a good rhythm with my cock, I bring my arm back to her neck and hold onto her as I thrust from behind.

Right now, I want nothing more than to make Holly mine. Mine here, inside this cabin, and mine out there, in the real world, when we face whoever wants her dead.

I won’t let her die. I refuse. She is too important. I thought she wasn’t my problem, but I’ve never been more wrong in my life. Holly is my problem. Her entire existence is my problem. I ruined her life thirteen years ago, so the least I can do for her now is try to help her fix it. Save her. Protect her. Keep her alive. I owe her that.

Being inside her, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Maybe it’s because she knows the real me, or maybe I’m finding a new lease on life thanks to her. Whatever the reason, being nestled inside her is as addicting as any drug.

Holly moans, and thanks to the hand around her neck, I feel the sound as it leaves her slender throat. I feel it, I hear it, I memorize it and file it away for later. A sound like that isn’t the type of sound a man hears every day. After this is over, I might not ever hear that sound again—and that just doesn’t seem right.

No. Perhaps my mind is addled with the urgent need that comes hand in hand with sex, but I can’t imagine walking away from Holly. I can’t picture a future where I’m bereft of her moans, her glares, and her lithe body.

Fuck. What’s happening to me? What is Holly doing to me? It’s like I can’t think straight.

Even though my shoulder is tight, I lean against her as much as I can, burying my nose in her hair and breathing her in. Never has the smell of sweat and sex been more addicting. Fate sent me the one person that could throw a wrench into my plans of oblivion, and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

As my hips jerk against her and my cock slams into her from behind, I groan. Every part of my body is on fire. Every nerve in me is flashing danger signs my way, warning me that I’m getting too addicted to Holly, that this can’t possibly end well for us.

But what does a man like me, a man who was ready to throw it all away, have to lose?

I don’t want to be the only one who loses himself, though. I want her to lose herself in me, and it’s because of that want, that desire, that the hand around her neck drops to that sweet spot at her apex. I slip two fingers around her clit and rub her as I fuck her.

Holly writhes against me, the sounds coming from her filling the air of the cabin, making me even crazier than I already am. Soft, light, feminine moans fill my ears. It’s easy to put her right back on the edge; her clit was still swollen from its previous attention.

Amongst her moaning, Holly manages to pant out my name: “Kane.” The way she says it, so desperately, makes me go at her harder, pinch her clit between my fingers as I stroke her with a rougher touch.

No one’s ever said my name quite like that before.

Her body seizes up, tensing and trembling as an orgasm takes hold of her. She cries out a whimper as herinner walls clamp down on my cock. Holly’s skin burns against mine, her clit pulsating between my fingers, and she is absolutely spectacular.

Seeing and feeling her lose it makes me want nothing more than to erupt inside her, fill her pussy up with my cum and mark her as mine—but doing that would be foolish and rash, and I’m not stupid enough to think this will be forever.

So, when that familiar pressure starts to build inside of me and I can no longer push it down and ignore it, I jerk my hips back and bring a hand to my length. My fist pumps along my cock in quick, fluid succession, and not soon after I empty myself on that plump, firm ass of hers.

Fuck—and I mean that in more ways than one.

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