Page 37 of The Souls We Claim
“Would it be so bad?” I ask.
The cords in Halo’s neck stand in relief, and his jaw twitches. “If I leave, are you going to finish this off yourself?”
“Want to stand in the doorway and watch? I feel like I owe you one.” I’m not sure where the bravery comes from. His chest heaves with the deep breaths he’s taking. Tension thrums between us, the air heavy with possibilities.
“Brat,” he mutters before lowering his lips to mine. For a millisecond, I notice the difference to Patrick. His lips werealways thin and angry. And while Halo’s are soft, there is nothing soft about the kiss. He consumes me. I can’t focus on anyone else but this man.
I steal my hand from between my legs and place it on his cheek. His scruff is rough beneath my fingers.
“Please, Halo.”
“Let me,” he says. And I swear to God, the way he growls those two words sends reverberations to my core. “Open your knees, baby girl. Let me see.”
The words cause my insides to melt.
“Good girl,” he says as I do as he instructs. His lips barely leave mine as he speaks. “You want to tell me what you were dreaming about that has you reaching between your legs?”
Nerves, embarrassment, and urgent desire battle inside me. “You were touching me. Massaging my skin. Touching me intimately.”
“Yeah? Where was I touching you intimately? Here?” His fingers reach my panties, stroking over the damp fabric. My clit aches.
He wasn’t, but I don’t want to tell him that it was the feel of his finger easing over my asshole that has me so wound up. Or that it was the gentleness with which he touched me that turned my soul on fire.
Instead, I nod, because I don’t want anything about this moment to change. The look in his eyes is heady, like I’m tearing at the very edges of his control. But instead of terrifying me, it wakes up the dormant parts of my body and soul.
“Shit, we shouldn’t do this, but I need to know how wet you are.” He dips his hand beneath the waistband. His thick fingers slide between my folds, forcing my lips apart.
I hold my breath, terrified I’m going to do or say something that will change his mind. But when he slides one of his fingers inside me, I arch against them, sliding my legs wider on impulse.
“You really need this?” he asks. But his fingers never stop. Inching in, stroking my walls, easing out.
I nod.
What else am I about to say? I need the release. And while I would complete this with my own hands if I had to, they can’t match the stretch and burn of Halo’s wide fingers.
I glance down and see his thick erection pressing at the zipper of his jeans. Reaching out one hand, I itch to hold it, squeeze it, give him some relief. Just as my fingertips graze the denim, Halo sits down on the side of the bed, and with the fingers not buried deep inside me, he grips my wrist.
“We’re already making bad choices. Don’t make it worse,” he says as he pulls his fingers out of me and takes them to his lips. He slides his tongue between them, tasting me.
Ruthlessly, he slides them back in me, his fingers pumping deep as his other palm sits across my pubic bone, holding me in place, his thumb drifting lazily over my clit.
Hard and soft.
Fast and slow.
In and out.
I close my eyes as the intensity of it all washes over me, as the burn of an orgasm closes in.
What will happen when we leave this room? I have no idea. But right now, all I can do is focus on everything Halo is making me feel.
An orgasm without having to give one in return.
An orgasm that isn’t preceded with violence.
“Give it to me,” Halo says, and on command, my body does exactly as he says. I come so hard, tears sting my eyes.
Everything inside me tenses for what feels like forever, and then I cry out. “Jax.”
