by Bethany-Kris
He took her rationale away.
Worries, anger, and control … all gone.
All he needed was a fucking kiss.
There was a part of her that wanted to step back from him, and reevaluate. She knew that was the smart part of her brain whispering through the haze of nostalgia and need. It was the slip of his hand curving around the back of her neck to pull her impossibly closer that silenced the little voice.
Haven reached back for him—her hands slipping over his naked chest to get more of his skin on hers. His tongue teased hers; a silent promise if there ever was one. She always thought he kissed a lot like he fucked. Deep, and fast, and a little wild. Like he couldn’t get enough, but he was determined to get what he wanted, regardless.
And when he kissed her like that, then all of her ability to think clearly was quickly lost. Like now.
All she could focus on was him, and the way his hand tightened on her neck. His growing erection pressed against her body which only served to make her wet. She could already feel that dampness in her panties.
Andino pulled away from her mouth with a ragged breath. Those green eyes of his flashed with something dark and wild. “Upstairs, then?”
How simple that question was.
It should be an easy no from her.
Let this go.
Leave it alone.
Haven was still humming—still high from his kiss, and the promise of what was yet to come. Oh, she knew what would be coming. And that was a large part of the reason why she was quick to nod and say, “Yeah, upstairs.”
Maybe if she gave it one last go—did this whole fucking dance with him one more time—she would be able to walk away. It’d be done; her need sated, even if her heart was still broken. She could feed the selfish part of her today, and mend the broken bits tomorrow.
That seemed like a good plan.
Stupid, but good.
Andino’s hand pressed against her neck, and Haven moved at his urging. “Ladies first,” he said.
She didn’t need him to direct her through his house. She knew exactly where she was going, and what was going to happen once she got there. As she passed by the kitchen, a familiar pit bull came out to greet her in the hallway. Haven took a second to bend down, and say hello to Snaps. A thickness grew in her throat the longer she ran her fingertips through the dog’s short coat.
“Hey, buddy,” she whispered.
Snaps’ stubby tail wagged hard. He licked the palm of her hand, and then pressed the very top of his head against her arm. His silent hello. She felt like it also sounded like, I miss you.
God, she missed him, too.
“You be good, huh?” she told him. “I’ll give you a treat before I leave.”
Because she would be leaving.
She simply didn’t know when.
Andino cleared his throat, clearly not missing her statement to his dog. She didn’t acknowledge his noise, instead saying a goodbye to Snaps before standing again. The dog didn’t follow them upstairs, but that wasn’t a surprise. Snaps was well trained, and knew to stay unless he was asked to follow.
Haven shivered when Andino’s hand landed on the small of her back. He moved in close behind her as she stepped inside his room—just over the cusp of no return, she thought. His bed was still the same. Large, four-poster, with black sheets, and red pillows. She tipped her head to the side when his lips skimmed the back of her neck, and his hands drifted over her sides.
“I’m not supposed to be doing anything strenuous,” Andino murmured against her skin. Well, damn. She hadn’t even thought of that. “But I really don’t give a fuck right now.”
His teeth grazed her earlobe while his hands slipped around her front. One skipped beneath her shirt, and higher to cup her breast through the lace bralette she wore. He was quick to push the bralette down to get his thumb and forefinger on her nipple. His fingers tweaked the hardened bud until she felt a jolt of heat shoot straight down to her pussy.
His other unsnapped the button on her jeans, and dipped beneath the matching lace panties. The tight fit of his hand in her jeans made her hot—his fingers could barely move, yet he managed to stroke her just right. Enough to make her shake. And then he teased her with his fingertips stroking the seam of her sex before toying with her clit, too.
Soft, gentle strokes.
Not too much.
Not nearly enough.
“Do you know how wet you are right now?” he asked, those fingers of his teasing her pussy again. “Wet enough for me to bend you over, and have a fucking feast.”
Jesus.
“Maybe you can do just that.”
“You’re mine for the night,” he uttered.
Dark, and wicked.
His voice still made her wet.
It was kind of ridiculous.
“For the night,” she agreed.
“Then strip.”
The order came out sharp, and yet husky along the column of her neck. She was aching in all the right places. A small tremor worked its way over her body—the anticipation she felt making itself known.
“Now,” Andino added.
He stepped away from her then, taking those teasing, talented hands with him. Haven felt the loss like a visceral sensation washing over her skin, but she was a little distracted considering he’d told her to do something, and she wanted more than anything to comply. She was quick to slip out of her jacket, jeans, and shirt. By the time she was down to her lace underwear set, Andino had perched himself on the edge of his bed.
“Come here,” he said, tipping his head a bit to encourage her.
She walked across the room until she was standing in front of him. One of his hands came up to cup her thigh, and then stroke down over her smooth skin. His touch left a trail of heat behind.
“Still perfect,” he murmured.
Haven let out a soft laugh. “You know, it’d be easier on me if you didn’t say things like that.”
There.
She said it.
Let him make of it what he wanted.
Andino glanced up to meet her gaze. “Is that what you want? Just to get fucked, and then get gone, girl? You don’t want the rest?”
Oh, she did.
She wanted that more than anything.
Her heart just couldn’t afford the cost.
“Yeah,” Haven replied. “Just fuck me, and let me go, Andino.”
He nodded.
That was all she got—not even a verbal agreement—before he reached for her. His mouth landed just below her navel at the same time his hands fisted into the waistband of her panties. He dragged the lace halfway down her thighs while his mouth kissed a slow path lower on her stomach.
“Just a taste,” she heard him say. Her panties fell down her legs, then. “Open up for me.”
She stepped out of those forgotten panties, and widened her stance. His mouth was already on her pussy before she could drag in her next breath. He hadn’t lied about the just a taste thing. He teased her with his mouth and tongue just long enough to make her ready to beg.
And then he pulled away.
Andino tugged her into his lap; his hands grabbed her thighs with a rough touch, and fingertips that gripped hard enough to leave marks behind. And yet, she couldn’t find it in herself to give a single fuck about it.
Not when he was spreading her wider.
Not when he was whispering in her ear.
“You want me to fuck you? You want my cock, baby?”
“Yes.”
Yes, yes, yes.
The answer was always going to be yes.
She fumbled with his pants to free his cock. Once she had his hard length in her hands, she took a moment to appreciate the weight and size of him as she stroked him slowly. All the while, that mouth of his was back on her throat—kissing, biting, and leaving behind more memories for her to feel even when she couldn’t see them.
Every time she fisted his length, his hips jerked upward. His hands on her ass grasped ti
ghter, and he pulled her hips into his groin. A low groan slipped from his lips, and skimmed over her skin even as she fitted him between her thighs.
That first inch of him was heaven. It was the bliss she missed the most, and a sensation she would happily die feeling. No one had ever fucked Haven quite like Andino did. No one filled her as full, or stretched her open like he did.
It was fucking delirious.
Or, that’s how it made her.
“Take what you want, then,” she heard him breathe against her chin when she tipped her head back. “Take it from me.”
Being on top gave her back a sense of control, but his words only added to it. She controlled the pace, and how much of him she wanted to take. She decided when to make their fucking harder, and when to slow him down.
And still, all she wanted was everything.
All of it.
“Just fuck me,” Haven muttered.
So, he did.
Hands firmly on her ass, and his mouth attacking hers. Thick cock bare, and making her ache with every deep thrust. She found stability tangling her fingers in his hair, and gasping for breath. But it was only an illusion. Even the control she thought he gave her had been an illusion.
He fucked her hard.
She begged for more.
He slowed them down.
Still, she didn’t come. He wouldn’t let her. Every time she came close enough, he pulled back until her body calmed, and then he went right back at it. Again, and again, and again. Until she felt like she was going to come apart at the damn seams. And she trembled on the edge until he was pounding into her again.
Until she was sobbing because her mind was a mess, and her body couldn’t take anymore.
Please, please let me come.
It was all she could say.
It was only after he’d flipped her over, and fucked her hard enough to make her throat raw from screaming that he finally let her fly.
She broke apart all over again.
Fuck him for that, too.
“You’re not going to say goodbye, then?” Andino asked.
Haven pulled on her jeans, and internally cursed herself for not getting up the second she heard his bathroom door click. Maybe it was fucking cowardly of her—oh, it most certainly was—but she figured slipping out of his place would be the easiest way to do this. Then, there would be no need for any awkward conversation.
Apparently, she hoped for too much.
Damn.
“Wasn’t last night enough?” Haven asked. “I kind of thought it was.”
Andino leaned against the doorway leading into the connected master bath. “I don’t follow.”
“Then, you’re clueless.”
“Don’t be mean, Haven.”
She let out a quiet laugh. “No, I suppose that’s meant for you, right? You’re the one between us who gets to make choices that hurts the other one. You’re the one who does cruel things. It’s entirely out of character for me to do something like that even if it is a reaction coming from my emotions. Yeah, I know. Don’t worry.”
He moved forward, but Haven put a hand out to stop him even as she zipped up her jeans with the other one. “Don’t bother.”
“You could have left last night.”
“Why not stay for a good fuck?” she shot back. “At least then I’m getting something from this. It’s done now. Count on that.”
“Haven—”
The anger she’d been holding at bay—just long enough for him to fuck her until she couldn’t think, and her body was a mindless blob of sensation—finally decided to come out to play. Last night had been too much, and all she wanted to do when they were done fucking was sleep off the overwhelming emotions and exhaustion.
She’d done that.
It was morning now, though.
She wasn’t so tired, but she was still pretty damn emotional.
“Why?” she asked him.
Andino folded his arms over his chest. “Why, what?”
“Why did you do that to me? Why tell me you love me, and then leave me like that? Do you know how deep that cut me? How much it fucking hurts in here?” She made a fist with her hand, and pressed it against her chest overtop her racing heart. “I’m not something for you to use and discard, Andino. I am not a toy. And you don’t get to treat me like one. So yeah, why. It’s the least you can do. If you actually love me, then you can give me a proper answer.”
He took a second, and then two.
“Except I can’t love you,” he finally said. Then, he corrected himself with, “Don’t love you.”
Haven straightened, and even through the stabbing pain making its way through her body, she hadn’t missed his first statement. He stared at her like he was made of ice—cold, and unfeeling. Not really there at all. Burning her from feet away.
Still, she’d heard it.
The way his voice dipped, and his words forced their way out. Like he had to make himself say those things, and not that he actually meant them at all.
I can’t love you.
She wanted to hate him.
Except she didn’t.
“I see you’re still a good liar,” Haven said.
Andino glanced away with a hard-set jaw, and unfeeling eyes. “You should go.”
Yeah, she definitely should.
Haven made quick work of pulling on the rest of her clothes, and avoided Andino’s stare all the while. She made sure to keep her promise to Snaps, and get him a treat from the fridge where she knew Andino kept them stored. She didn’t even look over her shoulder as she slipped out of the house. Looking back would have only caused her more pain, and she was trying her very best to let that go.
She needed to let him go.
“Hello,” came a voice a few feet away.
Haven almost ran head-first into the chest of Andino’s father.
Jesus Christ.
This morning couldn’t get any worse!
Had Andino knew his father was coming over this morning? Because she really would have appreciated that heads up. She would have left far sooner than she had, actually, just to avoid this whole nonsense.
She met the man’s gaze, and he quirked a brow high as his stare traveled from her, to the door she’d just closed. He said nothing for a long while, simply took in her appearance for long enough that a sense of awkwardness started to color up her cheeks with pink.
“Uh, hi,” Haven said.
Way to go.
Giovanni smiled faintly. “You look like you had a long night.”
Oh, God.
No, it could certainly get worse.
“Could we not?” she asked. “Because that would be great.”
The man cleared his throat, and chuckled. “Sure.”
“Thanks. Now, excuse me.”
Haven stepped forward to pass the man on the steps, but Giovanni didn’t move an inch. He stayed right where he was until she met his gaze again, and there was no way for her to hide the embarrassment on her cheeks.
The shame she felt …
“I should give you a warning,” the man said quietly, “about my son.”
“I don’t need one of those. Trust me.”
Andino had shown her more than enough; she had all the warnings she needed about him to last her a goddamn lifetime.
Giovanni shook his head subtly. “Mmm, no. I mean, for a while, Haven … you should be very careful about being seen with my son, and what you do with him. For yourself, but also for him. I know you don’t understand or know about our life, and maybe that’s for the better, but these are dangerous times for us. I worry that Andino doesn’t see clearly enough where you are concerned to consider that. That maybe he’s willing to allow … well, that doesn’t matter. This is about you, and not him. If you care for him, you’ll listen to me. You’ll be mindful, and careful.”
Well, fuck.
That was the problem, wasn’t it?
She did care.
Too much.
Haven’s house was col
der than she wanted it to be when she finally arrived home. Staying the night with Andino hadn’t exactly been the plan, and now it kind of felt like the rising sun in the backdrop of her kitchen window was mocking her.
Well done, you fucked him again.
Maybe cold wasn’t the right word for her place. Maybe empty would fit the bill better. And that was just as big of a problem as the cold thing, frankly.
She missed her friend.
Missed Maria, too.
She really missed Andino.
Was this going to be her life now?
The stupid girl who knew better, but kept going back for more until there was nothing left of her to take? Because that’s how it felt, in a lot of ways. As though every time she and Andino crossed paths, she left a piece of herself with him, and he had yet to give those many pieces back to her.
He just kept them.
So yes, she was cold, empty, and entirely fucking alone.
She swore the faint ache between her thighs, and the hunger still burning brightly through her body was something else that was mocking her. Every step she took inside her home reminded her of the night before. Her skin still hummed from his touch, and how it left her higher than ever.
This wasn’t fair.
Why did it have to be like this?
How could he look at her, say he didn’t love her like he meant it, and just lie even though he knew it was killing her? How could she keep wanting him, and loving him when this was what he did?
How?
Haven was nursing her second cup of coffee, and feeling like the worst kind of shit when a knock echoed on her front door. She had every mind to ignore whoever the fuck it was, and stay right where she sat. The last thing she wanted to do was move.
Wallow some more.
Continue her pity party.
Not move.
When the persistent knocking continued, Haven finally got irritated enough to go answer the door. She practically tossed her cup into the sink, uncaring if the mug broke. She answered the door by flinging it open with a harsh, “What?”
The young man—he couldn’t be more than twenty—on the other side of the door wore a white uniform with a flower logo printed on the breast pocket. He held out a bushel of mixed winter flowers.
“Miss … Haven Murphy?” the man asked quietly. “Sorry, but I was told to keep knocking until you answered.”