Tortured Skye: A Hawke Family Novel (The Hawke Family Book 2)

by Gwyn McNamee

  I should have done it a long time ago—given her the attention she deserves.

  I’m such a selfish fucking asshole.

  The need to pound into her has been the only thing driving me, and even though I know she walked away satisfied each time, the fact I haven’t gone down on her every time we’ve been together only solidifies what a greedy fucking bastard I really am. I’ve only tasted her once, that first morning, and it was a race to get her off quickly, not the slow, sensual devouring she should be given.

  She deserves so much better, and she’ll have it, once I let her go.

  Her body undulates under me as I kiss my way down her body to the thin lace thong barely covering her pussy. I brush my finger across the soaked fabric, and she bucks against me.

  “You’re so fucking wet.”

  She brings her head up off the pillow and glares at me. “I know, now do something about it.”

  I tuck my finger into her panties and drag it through her wet heat. She growls at me, and I chuckle, pressing a kiss to the inside of her quivering thigh. “I don’t know, you let me go on jerking off when you could have just crossed the room and helped me out. Maybe I should make you do it yourself.”

  Her fingers twist into my hair, and she tugs my head up until our eyes meet. “Don’t you dare.”

  The words go from her mouth straight to my cock.

  This is how it’s supposed to be—this give and take, the ability to tease and jab at each other on an equal playing field.

  How am I ever supposed to stop wanting this woman?

  I won’t. I’ll just have to be better at hiding it and avoiding her.

  But for now, for tonight, I’m going to give her something we’ve never had before.

  Concentrate on now, not tomorrow.

  With a grin and a wink, I yank her panties down and off her legs. They end up tossed over my shoulder without care just like the rest of our clothes.

  Skye watches me intently as she’s sprawled out on display for me. It certainly isn’t the first time, but it’s the first time I’ve really taken a moment to appreciate all she’s offering me.

  She squirms under my exploratory gaze. The glistening moisture between her legs calls to me like a beacon in a storm, and I drop down between her thighs, setting my mouth exactly where we both want it.

  Her taste is even more delectable and addictive than I remember. She shudders and rolls her hips in time with my probing tongue. I delve as deeply into her as possible before spreading her open and slowly licking my way across her wet flesh.

  “Oh, God…Gabe…”

  Her trembling words make my cock throb and my heart swell. Skye deserves to be worshipped every single minute of every single day like this.

  I wish I could be the one who does it.

  She grabs my hair and directs me up to her clit. I chuckle against the wet flesh.

  Of course, Skye would force me to give her what she wants. She’s not a “wait around and hope it happens” kind of girl.

  Frankly, I’m surprised she ever let me push her away in the first place. Getting her to let me go now is going to be near impossible.

  Gabe is torturing me. There’s no other way to describe the deliberately slow movements of his tongue on my pussy and clit.

  “Jesus, Gabe…”

  “Mmm.” His hum vibrates against my wet, needy core, and I gasp, digging my nails into his scalp.

  A thick finger slips inside me, and I clamp down, desperate for something to fill me and sate my aching need. “More!”

  I need more…

  I need all of you…

  He chuckles against me and slides in another finger while drawing my clit between his lips. The rhythmic sucking and pumping of his fingers winds me tight and high.

  Orgasm lingers just outside of my reach. An animalistic, high-pitched whine resonates from my chest, and I pull on his hair, grinding my hips in time with his ministrations.

  Fire licks across my skin while Gabe licks and sucks my core. Release hits me like an atom bomb, tearing me apart from the inside out.

  I squeeze my thighs against his head so hard, I think his ears probably leave imprints on my skin. He holds my hips steady as I thrash and buck beneath him, not letting up from his assault or giving me any reprieve from the breath-stealing pleasure coursing through my body.

  When I finally sag to the bed, boneless and utterly spent, he kisses the inside of each of my thighs before crawling over me. I’m intimately aware of every move he makes—trailing his fingers over my thighs, up my stomach, across the mounds of my breasts—and even with my eyes closed, I feel his eyes on me. His gaze sears my skin just as much as his hands do.

  No one else does this to me. He makes me want to let go of everything—my guilt, my anger, my despair—and just feel again.

  He trails open-mouthed kisses up my neck, pausing to suck at the throbbing pulse point there. His lips move across my jaw while his hand slips between us and cups my pussy. I shudder under him at the touch on my sensitive flesh. The press of his lips to mine is soft, and I taste my release on his tongue as he slips it inside my mouth slowly. He pulls away almost immediately and cradles my face in his free hand, softly brushing his thumb across my temple.

  “Skye, open your eyes.”

  I comply with his demand, and his scorching eyes bore into mine.

  The corner of his mouth ticks up into a sexy as hell lopsided grin. “That was incredible, I love watching you come.”

  Love?

  Don’t read too much into it, Skye.

  He’s so on-edge right now, with everything that’s happening, that anything I say could spook him. This absolutely is not the time to say that word back, at least, not the way I want to.

  God, I love this man.

  I smile back at him, my stomach knotting, knowing I can’t tell him how I really feel. So, I’ll do the next best thing. “I love you making me come.”

  Something flashes in his eyes—pain, regret, confusion, who the hell knows. Whatever it is, it’s gone before I have a chance to question him about it. He squeezes his hand over my pussy, grinding his palm against my clit and returning my attention to the here and now.

  “Keep them open, I want you looking at me when I slide my cock inside you.” I groan, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him down to me.

  Whatever you want, Gabe. I’m yours.

  I press my lips to his, trying to tell him everything I can’t in words with my kiss. His mouth slants over mine, and he removes his hand from my core, grasping his cock and rubbing the head through my slick folds.

  My legs quiver.

  My heart races.

  Then he pushes into me on one long, languid thrust until he’s seated to the hilt.

  A gasp tumbles from me into his mouth, and his groan vibrates in his chest against my breasts. His eyes darken, and I’m stripped bare, as if he’s seeing all the way to my soul, and I, his.

  There’s something buried there, behind the impassioned depths of his gaze, that I can’t place. He doesn’t give me time to ponder it before he slides his tongue across my lips and rolls his hips, grinding his pubic bone against my clit.

  “God…” I close my eyes and drop my head back as flickers of electricity skitter through my pussy with his movements.

  He stills, and I groan in frustration.

  “Keep them open.” His voice is rough and the command clear.

  For some reason, his need to lock eyes while he fucks me gives me hope. Maybe he’s finally understanding this isn’t going to go away. Maybe he’s finally accepting where this is going.

  His hips draw back slowly, and he pauses, his eyes on mine before he buries himself in me again.

  And again.

  And again.

  Never looking away from me.

  I’m drowning in the depths of those dark pools.

  He sets a gentle, measured pace, and we both fall into it. My hips rise to meet his. We pause occasionally to kiss slowly and breathe in e
ach other.

  This is different.

  There’s no rush or struggle to unleash our unbridled need for each other. This is a slow, building burn.

  This isn’t fucking. This is making love.

  Gabe fucking Anderson is making love to me.

  Finally.

  It’s tearing me apart to peer into her eyes knowing this is the last time I’m going to be with her, knowing I’m going to shatter her as soon as we both come down from the incredible high we are building toward.

  Christ, she feels so good.

  The muscles of her cunt grip my cock with every retreat, and she grinds her hips against mine on every thrust, gaining the friction she needs against her clit.

  Her eyes roll back, and I want to tell her to look at me again, but I don’t want to interrupt her moment of bliss. Skye has been through too much, lost too much, to have to go through losing me. I need to let her enjoy this however she wants to and stop being so God damn selfish.

  As much as I need to see the blue of her eyes while I bury myself in her for the last time, I need to see her lose herself in me more.

  How can the most perfect moment of my life also be the worst?

  Because I’m a fucking asshole who doesn’t deserve a woman like Skye.

  Skye needs to be with a man who can worship her—the way she deserves to be worshipped—a man who doesn’t ask her to sneak around and hide it from her friends and family—a man who isn’t a fucking broken shell of who he used to be.

  I would do anything for this woman, even if it means breaking her heart.

  She shudders beneath me and presses her heels into my lower back, urging me to move faster. Her nails dig into my shoulder blades and a moan slips from her perfect lips. “Please, Gabe, I need…”

  I capture her face in my hand, tipping it forward. “Look at me and tell me what you need.”

  Her eyelids flutter open, and her lips tremble. “You…I just need you. All of you.”

  My rhythm falters.

  If only I could give her that.

  “Please.” Her plea goes straight to my heart, shredding it apart until the pain in my chest steals my breath.

  I pull back my hips and slam into her while I take her mouth with mine, claiming with the kiss what I can never have again—her.

  Thrust after thrust, over and over, I hammer into her. Our tongues tangle and our panting breaths and moans mingle to form an erotic chorus.

  It’s the most exquisite sound I’ve heard in my entire fucking life.

  A low, keening whine emanates from her, and I know she’s close. Watching Skye Hawke fall apart with my cock buried inside her is the most beautiful thing in the world. Every single detail of tonight will be etched into my memory forever.

  The walls of her pussy quiver and ripple around my cock. I press my lips just below her right ear and kiss her, then suck on the skin there. She groans and pumps her hips up to meet mine even harder.

  “Come for me, Skye. Just let go.”

  Her head thrashes from side to side. “So…damn…close…”

  I pull back from her face and back onto my knees, changing the angle and driving my cock into her even deeper, dragging the ball of the piercing along her G-spot. A strangled groan rips through the room and she comes—hard. Her body lurches from the bed, and she claws at my biceps, digging her heels into my back and grinding her pussy against me.

  Her cunt pulls and contracts around my cock, and I can’t hold back any longer.

  My orgasm is ripped out of me. I come harder and longer than I have in my entire life, emptying into her hot, wet core, and losing my breath and heart in the process.

  I collapse on top of her, burying my face into the side of her neck.

  Fuck. I’m in love with Skye Hawke.

  Her scent envelops me. Every breath I take sucks it into my lungs and warms me with contentment. I could lie here all day, just breathing her in and relishing her warm skin pressed against me.

  But I can’t.

  I crack my eyes open and muted light from the windows hits my eyes. With a groan, I move my face away from Skye’s neck and glance at the clock. 6:15 a.m. Rain pings against the window and the howl of the wind outside warns of the impending threat.

  Last night was…

  Jesus, I don’t even have a word for it.

  Sex has always been a means to an end—a way to relieve my stress and quiet some of the voices in my head. But that wasn’t sex. At least, it wasn’t the kind of sex I have. That wasn’t fucking. That was something completely otherworldly, and the fact I can never have it again causes bile to rise up my throat and my chest to constrict so tightly, I can barely breathe.

  The fact I didn’t have a nightmare last night does not go unnoticed, but I can’t lie here and consider why. Why doesn’t matter anymore. After what happened with my father, I was fairly confident more restless, haunted nights were in my future, so sleeping soundly is almost as shocking to me as what he did. Although, knowing what I have to do now may have played a role in my uninhibited sleep. Maybe finally making the decision was all I needed.

  I try to extricate myself from Skye without waking her, but we’re too tangled together, and when I unwrap my arm from around her chest, she stirs, shifting against me and moaning softly.

  Shit.

  She’s not going to make this easy for me.

  Her head turns toward me, and she studies me over her shoulder—her eyes still slightly glazed and lids heavy with sleep.

  “Hey.”

  Fuck.

  That gravelly, sexy morning voice goes straight to my cock.

  Down boy.

  Morning sex is not an option. Having sex with her ever again is not a possibility.

  It’s better to end things now than to let them get further complicated by burying myself inside her one more time.

  I force a small smile. “Good morning.”

  She rolls over until she’s facing me and slides her hand under my bicep so she can wrap her arm around my rib cage. My skin is still sensitive and tight there, but it doesn’t hurt. I almost wish it would.

  Her breasts push against my chest, and my morning wood is wedged into her belly.

  This is not fucking helping.

  Nails lightly graze the skin on my back across my spine. I relax into her touch, closing my eyes, and relishing the caress. My mind clears. This is the most at peace I’ve felt in a long fucking time, but it’s only because my mind is made up. There will be no more worrying about what our actions mean for all the relationships involved. No more lying to my best friend. No more avoiding him at all costs.

  Her lips press against my pec, just above my nipple piercing and a shudder rolls through my body. She traces her tongue along my skin, slowly making her way closer to that little piece of metal.

  Fuck…that feels good.

  Too good.

  If I let her get my nipple into her mouth, there’s no hope of this ending any other way than with me fucking her brains out again.

  Gathering every ounce of will-power I possess, I pull back from her, putting much-needed space between our bodies so I can clear my head and think with the right one.

  But shifting away from her does nothing to ease the pain in my chest. I prop myself up on my elbow and study her.

  She stares at me with hunger and confusion in her eyes, and my mind flashes back to the last time she looked at me like this—the wedding. God, she was so beautiful in her bridesmaid’s dress. The way the jet black curls of her hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulders had reminded me of ocean waves during a hurricane. She was absolutely stunning that night—flawless.

  How had I ever been so fucking blind? How could I not have known how much I watched her before?

  It took her looking at me like this and forcing me to kiss her to bring any hint at self-realization forward. But it took what happened last night for me to comprehend how deep my feelings for her truly are.

  Maybe in a parallel universe, one where the acc
ident never occurred, things could be different. But we’re here, and they aren’t.

  The words are lodged like boulders in my throat. I close my eyes, breaking the spell she has cast on me; it’s the only way I’ll ever get them out.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Her warm palm flattens against my chest. “I need to tell you something, too.”

  He’s calm this morning.

  Resolved.

  It’s readily apparent in his eyes. The way he’s marking me with his gaze tells me everything I need to know. He feels the same way. How could he not after what we did last night? No man makes love to a woman like that unless he actually loves her.

  His eyes close.

  I wasn’t going to tell him, but seeing him this morning, it just feels like the right time. Maybe what happened with his father finally made him realize he needs to hold onto something as amazing as what we have.

  He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes.

  It’s so adorable that’s he’s nervous about telling me he loves me.

  “We can’t see each other again.”

  “I love you.”

  We speak at the same time.

  When his words register, I freeze. I must have misunderstood what he said, because there’s no fucking way he just dumped me.

  “Wait…what?”

  With a groan, he pushes off the bed until he’s sitting and then moves to the edge. His feet hit the floor with a thump, and he rests his elbows on his knees, dropping his head into his hands.

  “I’m sorry, Skye. I just…can’t do this anymore. It’s not fair to you, or me.”

  What the ever-loving fuck is he talking about?

  I slide up onto my knees behind him. “You’re joking, right?”

  His hands move back through his hair, and he heaves out a sigh. “No, Skye, I’m being serious. We have to stop this.”

  “You’re really doing this, after last night…I’m just…”

  Speechless.

  And I am never out of words. No one has ever accused me of biting my tongue or having a filter, but Gabe has literally sucked away my ability to speak.