Repentance: The Story of Kace Haywood

by Meghan Quinn

  “You can’t do that,” she complained.

  “I can do whatever the fuck I want,” I replied. “I could fucking leave right now if I wanted,” I threatened, knowing damn well there was no way in hell I was going to follow through. I was almost positive I wanted this more than she did.

  “Don’t go,” she said with a touch of sadness.

  I rubbed my hand up against her breast, cupped her face, and said, “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” Even though it was a lie, it eased the worried look on her face. “Why me?” I asked, needing to know what the draw was, what she saw in me. If anything, I needed to know that maybe someone saw me for who I wished I could be—a strong, confident man—not who I actually was.

  Sadly though, I wasn’t that man. Instead, I was eaten alive every day by a set of demons that wouldn’t leave me alone, no matter how hard I tried to ignore them.

  Lyla’s patience was wearing thin. I saw the tension that was starting to coil inside of her ease a fraction. She shifted underneath me and placed one hand on my chest, right above my heart. The other caressed my jaw gently.

  “There is so much about you that attracts me, Kace. It’s hard not to be drawn to you. It’s not just because you’re devastatingly handsome, but it’s the heart I see in you. You might not think you show it, but you have a giant heart. You care about the girls, you care about Jett, and you care about this community even though they turned their back on you during the lowest point in your life. You’re strong, you’re sure of yourself, and you know what you want. You’re sexy as hell, and even though you’re fighting an inner battle, you still have a spark in your eye that I see occasionally when you get excited about things like the community center or helping others. You’re a good person, and you’ve made it incredibly hard on me, not giving me a chance.”

  My breath escaped my lungs from her words. How could she see me so differently? When I looked in the mirror every morning, I saw a murderer, a coward, a detached and broken man. How could she think such positive things about me? How could she see me in such a shining light when I knew the way she described me was so off-base?

  I shook my head and started to retreat from her, but she gripped my shoulders before I could pull away.

  “Stay with me, Kace. Please don’t leave. Live this moment with me. Even if it’s just this moment, live it with me. Be with me for this piece of time.”

  Her eyes watered as she stared up at me, begging me to stay. I’d told myself I would give her this night, and even though her words shook me to my core, I knew I had to stay, if not for her than for myself. I wanted to be selfish one more time.

  I pressed my hand against her cheek and wiped away a stray tear. Leaning down, I brushed a soft kiss against her forehead, lingering my lips while I breathed in her sweet scent, a scent that immediately calmed my raging heart and eased my soul.

  Slowly, I moved my lips down her cheeks to her jaw, kissing her all along the way, taking my time as I relished in the soft feel of her skin against my mouth.

  Her fingers found the belt loop of my jeans and gripped tightly, pulling my hips closer to hers. I pressed my erection against undulating hips that were begging for more, making me inwardly smile from her neediness. Even though I was a corrupt bastard, I still enjoyed the feeling of being needed, the feeling of being able to take care of a woman, to own her, at least for one night.

  I continued my descent until I got to her breasts, which were aching to be released from the confines of the lingerie she had picked out at the store. Thankful for the flimsy fabric, I tore it, exposing her bare breasts to the warm night air. Her gasp made her chest rise and fall, moving her breasts at a rapid rate that had the crotch of my jeans throbbing.

  “You’re better naked,” I said, moving my lips to the swell of her breasts.

  Her legs wrapped around my hips, pulling me in even closer. Like a desperate man, I rubbed the crotch of my jeans against her heat, soaking in every mew that escaped her mouth.

  My tongue darted out to her skin and made deliberate circles around one nipple, causing a frustrated cry to escape her lips. Carefully, my teeth nipped at her puckered nipple, making her fingers to claw into my back. I welcomed the new pain and in return pushed my tongue against her nipple and lapped at her skin. I rounded her nipple, flicked it, and then finally sucked it into my mouth while biting down with little pressure.

  “Yes,” she screamed as she arched under me.

  Pleased with her reaction, I moved to her other breast and gave it the same treatment. As she writhed under me and ground into my hips, I moved my hand down to the juncture of her thighs, letting her know what my next move was going to be.

  Pulling away from her now red nipples, I looked at her and was rewarded with the vision of a picture perfect woman lying naked under me. Her eyes were glazed with passion, her skin was slick with sweat, and her hair was messy from my hands. She was a woman in need, and fuck if I wasn’t about to fulfill that need.

  I stood up and found the button of my jeans. A gorgeous smile caressed her face as she scooted forward on the bed and pulled me between her spread legs. From my view, I could see how turned on she was for me, which in return turned me on even further.

  She ran her hands around my waist, to my back, where she pressed them down into my pants and briefs, dragging them over my ass and down to the floor. My heavy shaft sprang free.

  I stepped out of my clothes and faced her, my cock at her eye level. With greed in her eyes, she gripped the root of my dick and pulled on it hard, milking me in one smooth stroke.

  A sharp hiss escaped my lips as I dropped my hands to her shoulders to gain some balance. Her tongue darted to lick the tip of my cock. The little teasing motion didn’t escape me; I knew she was trying to torture me just like I’d done moments ago, but the difference between my torture and hers was that mine had been short-lived.

  I pressed against her shoulders, making her fall to the bed. I fell on top of her, our skin meeting, the warmth of our bodies igniting a flame I knew would burn until the early morning light.

  I gripped her hands in mine, threading our fingers together, and brought them above her head as I straddled her body. My cock lay heavily on top of her pubic bone, and I lowered my head to her mouth where I greedily nipped, sucked, and kissed her full lips.

  “God, Kace. I need you so fucking bad. Fuck me, please just fuck me.”

  A part of me wanted to do as she asked, to plow into her and take what I wanted, but I couldn’t do that, not with the way she’d spoken to me earlier, not after the kind words she’d expressed to me. She deserved more, she deserved to be made love to, and that’s what I set out to do.

  I dug my fingers into hers, and my muscles rippled above her as I continued the slow, arduous process of worshipping her body, of slowly rolling my hips just enough where she gasped, where I could barely feel the wet seeping from her.

  The feeling of having Lyla underneath me, completely at my mercy, was addicting. It was mind-altering. It had me thinking I could possibly give her more, that I could stuff away my demons and try to live a normal life with this woman. She gave me hope for a future, a future I knew wasn’t for me.

  Releasing one of my hands from hers, I ran it down the length of her body to the juncture of her thighs, where I pressed a finger against her clit. Immediately I was welcomed by a warm liquid that was all Lyla.

  “Fuck,” I groaned from realizing just how wet she was. “Lyla, you’re so fucking wet.”

  “For you, for only you,” she replied, kissing lightly against my jaw.

  Growling, I pressed two fingers inside her and watched as her entire body reacted to the invasion. She moaned, squeezed her eyes shut, and covered her forehead with an arm.

  Needing a small taste, I made a trail of kisses down the front of her body until I hovered right above her pussy. I took the opportunity to spread her legs wide enough so I could fit between them and then lowered myself.

  Her breath hitched, she squirmed, her skin gli
stened from sweat as my fingers spread her apart, and my tongue struck her with force, causing her hips to hitch upward.

  “Yes,” she breathed, pulling on one of the pillows resting near her. I watched in fascination as I worked my tongue in and out of her as she gripped the sheets, begging for more.

  While I ran my tongue up and down her pussy, I kept my eyes on her the entire time. I watched as her lips parted slightly, soft cries escaping her plump lips. I relished in the taste of her, in every reaction and every movement she made. She was addicting.

  This was what a little breath of heaven must feel like. Right here, watching the woman of your dreams crumble to pieces from the touch of your tongue. I was in a fucking dream.

  From under my lashes, I stared at her stomach muscles contracting with each swipe of my tongue. Her mouth gasped for air with each inhale of her heady scent, and her control slowly slipped. I showed no mercy.

  “I’m going to come, Kace,” she announced just as I pressed two fingers inside of her. She arched off the bed as a shrill cry escaped her. “Yes! Fuck, fuck! Yes, more, please more.”

  Her hips undulated against my tongue, taking her orgasm to a new level. I allowed her to ride me just the way she wanted and watched in fascination while she dissolved into a puddle of content pleasure under me.

  My cock painfully throbbed between my legs, begging to enter her, to take what it wanted. I itched to feel what it was like to be inside her again. I wanted to be sheathed by her warmth, to get lost in her body, so I reached down to my jeans while she recovered and grabbed a condom from my wallet.

  Quickly sheathing myself, I hovered back over her and waited for her to open her eyes. The moment her pools of meadow green stared at me, my heart swelled and I smiled. There was something different about Lyla, something that made me think for only a moment that maybe, just maybe, she would understand my drunken sin.

  She cupped my cheek. The unspoken emotion we were both feeling settled in the pit of my stomach just as she spread her legs open for me and pressed her hand deeper into my cheek, urging me to move forward.

  My eyes instantly closed from the warmth pouring from her.

  “Take me, Kace. Take me to a place far away from here. Make us forget the past and the present.” Her voice was soft, encouraging.

  Taking a deep breath, I lowered my mouth down to hers and passionately kissed her while my arms fell to the sides of her head, framing her in my heat. My hips settled between her legs, and the tip of my needy cock rubbed against her slick core. Her hips moved against mine, allowing my cock to play with her entrance, but that’s all I allowed while I fucked her mouth with my tongue.

  I was greedy, I was selfish, I took everything I wanted, not letting her have a say in any of it, but she didn’t complain. Instead, she matched every stroke of my tongue, every thrust of my hips, and every tightening of my body.

  She was just as greedy as me if not more. It was a battle of wills. Who was going to crack first? Who was going to give in and start begging for more?

  My cock pounded with need, with yearning, and even though I wanted the upper hand, I wanted her to beg just one more time. I didn’t think I could take the wait any longer, so I grabbed her hands and pulled away.

  Linking our hands together again, I brought them above her and lowered my forehead to hers. Looking into her eyes, I pressed my hips forward and felt my cock slowly slide inside her tight canal. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her breath hitched.

  Kissing her forehead, I said, “Look at me, baby. Let me see those beautiful eyes.”

  Immediately her eyes flew open, and my fucking gut twisted in my stomach from the loving kindness radiating off of her. Her eyes glistened, and the strong walls I’d erected around my soul started to fade.

  Instead of focusing on her eyes that were tearing me apart, I tried to bring my attention down to our most intimate connection. I focused on the feel of her tight pussy, the way her hips moved with mine, and the building of pressure inside my cock with each stroke.

  I’d had sex with Lyla before. We’d fucked but never shared an intimate moment like this before. We’d never looked into each other’s eyes, trying to understand one another. This was different from fucking. This was making love, and why I was letting it happen, I would never understand.

  Maybe I was a masochist. I enjoyed inflicting pain on myself, well-deserved pain. Maybe I knew that after tonight nothing could transpire between us, so I’d gone all in. I gave her everything I had, knowing in return my heart was going to be ripped out of my chest when I left.

  But what about Lyla? Could I really do that to her?

  “Kace, yes, harder.” Lyla writhed under me, seeking more from me, and even though I knew I was going to destroy both of us when we were done, I couldn’t fucking stop. I wanted to give her everything she wanted, so I did.

  With brutal force, I slammed into her and then pressed my lips against hers. Her fingers gripped mine tightly, showing me how forceful I was being, how much pleasure I was able to deliver.

  The weight in my cock was undeniable. I was on the precipice of orgasm, waiting, prolonging the inevitable, wishing she would come with me, needing her to come with me.

  I was about to release my hand from hers to push against her clit when her chest arched up into mine and she gasped.

  Like a fucking vice, her pussy clenched around me and an indescribable sound departed from her enticing lips. She rocketed against me, screaming my name as tears fell from her eyes.

  That was all it took. I felt from the rumble of my stomach to the base of my cock the explosion of my pleasure inside of her.

  “Fuck…!” I roared as I pounded into her until she milked me dry.

  I slowed my hips down as my cock continued to throb inside her. Her breathing evened out, and that’s when I realized I’d buried my head in her shoulder. Slowly, I picked my head up and smiled at her.

  “You’re so fucking sexy when you come,” she said as her erect nipples teased my chest.

  “I can say the same about you, baby.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  My present…

  Hundreds of cracks covered the plaster ceiling of Lyla’s apartment, just another feature that bothered me about where Lyla lived. I stroked her back as she pressed against me, resting her head on my shoulder and running the tips of her fingers along the ridge of my abdomen.

  No words were spoken as we lay in her twisted sheets, the moonlight shining through her window and on our slightly sweaty bodies.

  The silence was welcome. It was necessary for my beating heart, my uneasy thoughts of what was to come next. I didn’t want to talk about the future—whether I was staying the night, whether I would be able to get out of her bed and leave.

  With my spare hand, I rubbed the top of my head, agonizing over my feelings for her, my desire to keep her near but my urgency to push her as far away from me as possible.

  “Are you thirsty?” she asked.

  “I’m all right,” I replied, feeling awkward.

  “I need a drink.” She pushed off my chest and crawled across the bed butt naked and then walked out of the room, wiggling her ass for me in the most delicious way.

  Once she was gone, I groaned and pulled on the strands of my hair. What the fuck was I thinking? Inner turmoil churned as I weighed my options. One part of me kept telling me to leave, get the fuck out of her apartment while I still had a shred of protection around my black soul. The other part of me yearned to hold her all night long.

  With a racing heart, I threw the sheets aside and was getting out of the bed when Lyla reappeared. Her hair was mussed from my fingers, her lips swollen from my unyielding kisses, and her eyes sated from my lovemaking. She was a completely satisfied woman with a kind understanding coming from her eyes.

  “Leaving?” she asked, leaning against the wall of her room and sipping a glass of water. She didn’t look upset or mad, almost like she’d expected me to want to go.

  “I don’t know,” I answe
red honestly. I wasn’t sure what the fuck I wanted. I’d never been so unsure about something in my life.

  Staring at her fucking amazing body and beautiful personality, I knew I didn’t deserve her. The moment I’d taken a man’s life, I’d sworn I would never be happy again, that I would serve my repentance and then die on this earth alone, so why was I half kneeling on Lyla’s bed, considering doing something I had no right to?

  “What does it say?” Lyla asked, nodding at the tattoo on my ribs.

  “Nothing of importance,” I answered, turning so it wasn’t so visible.

  Indignation passed over Lyla’s features as she placed her cup of water on the floor near the window and walked toward me. My gaze fell to the floor to avoid the beautiful sway of her hips and the way her plump breasts tried to capture my attention. If I didn’t look down, I was going to be swept up in her body again, a mistake I so desperately wanted to entertain.

  She grabbed hold of my shoulders and pushed me down on the bed. Like a fucking leaf in the breeze, I floated to the mattress, not putting up a fight. I was too damn weak, too damn desperate for human contact to fend her off.

  I was a desolate man, broken and battered and clinging to the one thing I knew would ruin me.

  Lyla straddled my hips, keeping her heated core away from my growing erection, torturing me by not giving my cock what it wanted. I was too engrossed in what she was doing to notice her hands running up the side of my ribcage.

  “Seeking Repentance,” Lyla read, softly trailing her fingers over the black ink that branded my body. Her soft gaze found mine and her head tilted to the side in question. “What are you seeking repentance for, Kace?”

  My eyes quickly shut as I tried to block out the question, tried to ignore the fact that she was digging further and further into my fucking soul.

  I didn’t talk about my past to anyone. I barely spoke to Jett, the man who knew the whole story, about it. It was a general understanding that we didn’t talk about it. The only time we ever reflected on my actions was on the anniversary of the day my soul had died, no other time.