Page 68 of The Hallows Queen

He chuckles, holding on to me and carrying me across the room to the couch. Once he puts me down gently, he stands up to look at me.

I’m sat with my legs spread open, every part of me on display for him while he stands above me and burns me with his gaze.

He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, his hands clenching and unclenching a few times at his sides as he scans my naked body, then he groans deep in the back of his throat.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, his voice catching like it can’t get any louder for such an intimate sentence.

I smile at him as his eyes return to mine, and something inside of me clicks and flips. This man, with so much darkness behind his eyes, is showing me a side of him that he probably hasn’t shown to a lot of people. I don’t know why that turns me on so much, but it does, and it has me sitting up straight and popping the button on his pants.

He's hard as stone underneath the fabric of his boxers when I pull his pants down past his ass, and my mouth waters in anticipation.

I graze a fingertip over the fabric, along the swollen shape of him, and he groans.

Licking my lips, I grab the waistband of his boxers and tug them down. His cock bobs as it’s freed from the confines, and I lean forward and trail my tongue along the length of him.

His hand flies to my head, almost like instinct, and I look up at him through my lashes as I make the motion again.

Groaning, he tightens his hand in my hair.

I flick my tongue over the head of his cock, gathering the precum that’s leaking out and moan between my lips as I swallow it down.

His nostrils flare as he blows out a breath through his nose, his gaze glued to mine as I lean forward and suck the head of his cock into my mouth.

He moans, but pulls me back by my hair so he pops out again. “No.”

My brows furrow, confusion and something that feels like rejection flooding me and making my face hot. “What?”

He shakes his head, stepping back. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Hayden.” I reach for him, but he steps back, shaking his head again.

“Stand up,” he orders, ripping his shirt over his head. I don’t move a muscle, though, admiring the chiseled edges of his chest and stomach, running my gaze over the intricate designs on the skin there. My mouth drops open, and he takes a step toward me. “Penelope.”

I reach out for him again, running my fingers over his tattoos, trying to brand them into my memory. He’s a work of art, a canvas filled with everything that makes him human, and it’s fucking amazing.

“You’re perfect,” I breathe, repeating his words from before, and his breath hitches when I make the descent downwards to his cock. Circling my hand around him, I squeeze him and pump my fist a few times.

He grabs me under the arms, lifting me and plastering my body to his. I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling the wetness from between my legs press against his stomach. He kisses me then, using one hand to thread his fingers into my hair at the back of my head so he can control my mouth.

I moan, feeling the skin of his cock brushing my ass from underneath.

He takes a step toward my bedroom door, and then there’s a knock at my front door.

“Oh shit,” I say, and he freezes. “I ordered food.”

He chuckles, putting me down on my feet again. “Hurry up.”

Throwing my sweater over my naked body, I head for the front door. I pull it open enough to grab my food, say a quickthank youto the driver, and then shut it again. Turning to look at Hayden, a cold shiver runs through my body, and I stand frozen with my bag of food hanging from my hand.

He takes a step closer, reading something on my face. “P...”

I shake my head, backing up enough that my back hits the front door, overwhelming unease taking residence within me. “No, no, no. What the fuck have I done? We can’t do this.”

“P,” he says again, taking another step forward. “Don’t do this right now.”

I clutch the bag of food against my chest, the warmth from the food comforting me. “This was a mistake.”

He’s in front of me then, having closed the space between us in a panic, his hands threading into my hair. “Don’t do this.”

---