Page 82 of Square Deal

The weight of bringing Hannah to stay here wasn’t lost on me. I invited her into my home. Invited her to sleep in my bed. Hell, I slept with her for more than one night. I had never done that with anyone else. She made those lines so goddamn easy to cross.

“I had a great time,” she said placidly, offering a polite smile. “Thank you for taking me out.”

To anyone else, that would have been the green light to go fromdatetonight. But something brewed behind her bourbon eyes. I just wished I knew what it was.

I cupped her cheek and kissed her. Sweet, supple, and warm. Her eyelashes fluttered against my cheek as she closed them, letting out a soft sigh of contentment.

We moved in perfect synchronization—her lying down on the couch, me bracing my arms on either side of her head. Hannah’s brown hair splayed across the black leather.

I straddled her hips, one knee digging into the couch, one foot planted into the floor. I skated my hands underneath her nightie. Her mellow sighs turned to wanton moans as I pushed up the silk and trailed sloppy kisses down the column of her throat.

Hannah arched her back, murmuring incoherent sweetness into the quiet apartment. I nipped and sucked my way across her collarbone, shoving the négligée all the way up so I could give her beautiful tits the attention they deserved. I pulled one rosy nipple into my mouth, grazing the peak with my teeth.

Hannah sobbed and begged for more, for relief, for a host ofthings she muttered that didn’t make any sense. I palmed the swells of her breasts and teased her nipples. She grappled for purchase on my chest and arms, but I reared back.

“Isaac,” she moaned. It was breathless, pleading. Demanding.

I bent down again and blazed a path of kisses from the valley of her breasts, down her stomach. Her hips rocked, seeking anything to satisfy the desperate need she felt.

I wanted that. I wanted her to be desperate. Aching. Longing.

I shuffled down and kissed the crease where her thigh met her center. Hannah gasped. Her pussy glistened with need, and I fought the urge to drive into her like a caveman.

This wasn’t a negotiation, but I was going to get exactly what I wanted from her. I wanted to direct her body like a maestro.

I draped one long leg over my shoulder and brought my mouth dangerously close to her wet core. I swirled the tip of my tongue around her clit, and she gasped, bucking her hips toward me.

“Tell me what you want, Princess,” I breathed against her pussy, making her shudder. I nuzzled my stubbled jaw against her inner thigh.

“You,” she begged, digging her nails into the cushions. If she left scratch marks on the couch, I’d cut them out, frame them, and hang them on the wall.

H. Hayes—Aftermath of an Orgasm—Artist Medium: manicured nails on a leather couch.

Hannah’s answer was music to my ears. I lapped at her pussy, tasting and savoring her. Within seconds, she was careening over the edge. I rose up and crashed my lips to hers. Her mouth opened on a gasp and I took advantage, stroking her tongue with mine.

“Can you taste yourself on my mouth, Princess?” I asked between breaths.

“Mhmm,” Hannah whined, barely coherent. She wrapped her arms and legs around me and pulled me in for more.

I unzipped my trousers and freed my dick. I needed to feel her. To be inside her. I needed the same release.

We had two weeks left, and I wasn’t ready to let her go. I only had two weeks left to get Hannah Jane Hayes out of my head, and I knew the detox was going to be painful.

“I need to be inside you. Need to feel you Princess.” My voice was rough and full of desperation. “Nothing between us.”

She went rigid.

“I’m good if you are,” I murmured as I buried my forehead in the crook of her neck and kissed her warm skin. “I’ve never done that with anyone else. Haven’t been with anyone else since our first night. Not like this.” I leaned up and kissed her lips. “Nobody but you.”

“I’m good too.” It sounded strangled. I rose up on my forearms and saw the corner of her mouth quiver.

Ah, fuck.

I pressed a kiss to her temple and held my lips there. “I’ve never wanted anyone like this before,” I choked out, baring my soul to her, preparing to be rejected in the most humiliating position possible.

I wanted—no—neededto feel her bare. I needed to see how we fit. I needed to know her more intimately than anyone else ever had. It scared the shit out of me, but I was ready to jump.

“I want to feel you, Princess. No barriers. I can’t ever get enough of you.” I wanted to bury myself inside of her. I wanted to rut into her so deeply that she would feel it for eons after. “Are you with me, Princess?”

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