Page 32 of The Hallows Queen

“Alright, you’re fine,” I say to myself as I gather my cigarettes and lighter and toss them into my purse. “He’s just going to fuck you until you aren’t sad, and then you can go home. Totally normal, you’re a grown woman.”

I laugh at myself a little as I step out of the car, and when I head for the front door, our eyes connect through the glass.

My stomach does a flip, but I push myself to walk up the small staircase to meet him. He opens the door as I reach it, the smell of him instantly filling my nostrils and making my body clench.God, he smells good.Like something sinful and wicked.

“Penelope,” he greets me, stepping outside and holding the door open for me.

I raise my brow playfully, my mouth curling into a smile all on its own. “Hayden.”

He’s dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, his feet bare and a hat on his head backwards, making my lady parts tingle in a way only a backwards hat can.

The house opens up once you walk through the foyer into a big space with black and glass beams placed methodically all around. His décor is light, like he paid someone to do it and never thought about it again. Everything is in different shades of white, black, and silver, making the space seem extremely fucking elegant.

“Your house is insane.” I continue to walk through until I’m standing at the foot of a staircase. Turning to face him, I’m happy to find that he’s only about two feet behind me.

“That it is,” he agrees, stepping into my space. “Can I get you something to drink?”

I drop my purse onto the bottom stair. “No, I’m fine.”

He puts his hands on my waist. “Eat?”

I shake my head, feeling my chest burning with need as I kick off my shoes.

“Smoke?” he asks, laughing as he pulls my body into his.

“You’re being such a gentleman,” I muse, my chest brushing his as I lean forward and kiss down his neck. “It doesn’t suit you.”

He chuckles, his chest vibrating with the sound as he puts his hands underneath my ass and lifts me, wrapping my legs around his waist. I feel his cock press into my center, and I moan, my hips grinding against it.

“You don’t want me to be polite when you come to my house?” he asks, taking the stairs slowly upwards.

“No,” I say, kissing his jaw, his cheeks, his mouth. “I just want you to fuck me until I don’t feel anything else.”

His chest vibrates again when he groans, and my stomach flutters in response.

Carrying me the rest of the way up the staircase and down a long hallway, he pushes through the last door on the right. His bedroom is the same as the rest of the house, black and white and clean. There aren’t any personal touches to it, save for the phone charger hanging by the bed and a few pairs of shoes scattered by the closet.

He drops me down on the edge of the bed, my legs falling from around his waist, and he takes a step back to look at me. His dark eyes burn as they trace my body, making me shift in place like he’s examining me.

Silence washes over us as we stare at each other, and then he stalks toward me. Reaching for the hem of my shirt, he peels it over my head and tosses it to the floor. I moan as he kisses down my chest and in between my breasts, then over the lace fabric of my bra. As he presses more kisses down my stomach, he pops the button on my jeans and then pulls the zipper down.

“Lift up,” he says, and I flex my hips so they rise from the bed and he can pull my jeans over my ass. Dropping to his knees before me, he peels my pants from each leg slowly while keeping his gaze glued to mine.

When he’s thrown my jeans over his shoulder, leaving me in only the lingerie I put on earlier, he scans my body again.

“You pick this for me?” he asks, his head tipping toward my underwear with appreciation.

I bite onto my bottom lip. “Mmhm.”

He leans forward, kissing my chest again. “I like it.”

Moaning, I drop back onto my elbows and watch as he licks a line down the center of my body, moving back up before he reaches the seam of my thong. He crawls over me, using his knee to push my legs farther apart so he can fit between them.

Holding himself up on his elbows, he hovers over me and grinds his pelvis against mine, making me moan in the back of my throat. My hands find his back instinctively, and I dig my nails into his skin.

He looks down at me, his eyes burning with desire that radiates all around us, and rolls his hips again so the thickness underneath his jeans rubs against my clit.

“Fuck me,” I breathe, digging my nails deeper.

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