Page 21 of Hellbent
“Oh my God,” I pant, eyes flying wide as the orgasm rushes up on me like a riptide. “Jake—fuck—don’t stop—”
My walls clench around him, rippling as I come, my hips lifting to chase every pulse of pleasure.
He growls low in his throat. “Jesus Christ, Max...”
He thrusts once, twice more—and then he’s there too, cock pulsing, body collapsing on top of mine in a shuddering wave. He buries his face in my neck, teeth scraping my skin as he groans out his release.
For a moment, we’re nothing but breath. His heart thunders against mine. I feel the sweat on his back, the weight of his body grounding me. I never want him to move.
But eventually, he moves. Slips out of me gently, sits up, and peels off the condom, tossing it into a small bin at the end of the bed. Then he’s back, curling around me, tucking me into his chest, pulling the covers up around us.
My body is humming, spent, still pulsing from the inside out. Jake’s warmth surrounds me, one arm anchoring me in place. His lips find the hollow below my ear, pressing a lazy kiss against it, and reaches for the bunched-up hem of my shirt, gently tugging it down.
Only when we’ve finally settled into real silence do I notice the other sound in the room. The rhythmic rustle of sheets. The unmistakable sound of skin on skin.
Damian.
His breathing gets fast and tight, escalating in bursts. I freeze for a heartbeat—and then heat up.
He watched. And now he’s stroking his cock because of what he saw.Because of me.
There’s a short, sharp gasp. His sheets rustle one last time. Then still.
Heat flashes through me. I’m shocked, titillated—and something else.
Pleased.
Powerful.
I should feel embarrassed. Maybe even ashamed. But I don’t.
The heat of my orgasm still lingers in my blood. The thought of Damian, just feet away, giving in to his own pleasure after watching...it only deepens the ache instead of dampening it.
Jake makes a satisfied noise, his lips brushing the skin beneath my ear. “That was fucking incredible, babe.”
I hum softly. My body is completely wrung out, sated in a way I haven’t felt in years. Maybe ever.
His hand drifts along my hip, fingers tracing idle shapes.
My head finds his chest.
My lashes flutter shut.
I fall asleep to the sound of Jake and Damian breathing on either side of me.
CHAPTER SIX
I BURY MY face into Jake’s pillow, inhaling his scent, lingering in the warmth he left behind. A familiar ache tugs at my chest—the bittersweet memory of waking up beside Billy, those rare mornings when he wasn’t cruel, when I could pretend we were just normal. I wanted to see that side of Jake too. The sleepy, slow, morning-sex side of him. But I’m alone.
Jake’s gone. So is Damian. The room’s empty except for me.
Damian’s bed is already made. Tight corners, not so much as a wrinkle in the pillowcases, like he was never here at all.
I blink at the light filtering in through the window. What time is it? How did I not hear them leave?
I stretch my arms overhead, feeling loose and warm. I’ve had the best sleep I can remember in forever—a combination of the bed, the whiskey, the sex.
God, the sex.
