Holding On To Heaven (Allendale Four 2)

The strain in his voice, the undeniable desire…it made me weak in the knees. I couldn’t help but say, “Tell me what you want to do.”

He swallowed thickly, his voice quiet in my ear. “I want to take you here—now, with the risk of someone catching us. I want to claim you, let the world know you’re mine and most of all let you know that I’m in—all in. That I love and worship you. I want to hear you cry my name when you come. I want to have to hold you up because you’re so overwhelmed you can’t stand.”

Holy. Shit.

“It’s too much,” he confessed.

“No,” I breathed. “No, it’s not. If anything, it’s not enough. When you hold back it makes me feel…inadequate. Like you don’t think I can take it. That I’m still the pathetic Heaven that had no friends and gets used by the people in my life. Not the person I’ve strived to become.”

He spun me around, gray eyes searching mine. “Inadequate? You’re fucking with me.”

Tears burned in my eyes. I don’t know why I had to have this conversation with them over and over but dammit, I wanted more.

His jaw ticked and he bent down and kissed me softly on the lips; a strange, gentle gesture. When we parted, the color of his eyes shifted, darkened, and he turned me back around.

“Let me explain something to you,” he said, in a gruff voice. “I hold back because I’m terrified of myself.” He placed our hands together. His dwarfed mine. “It’s not your mind that I’m worried about, babe. It’s your body. If I let go, like really, really let go, I could hurt you.”

“I’m stronger than I look.”

We stared at one another for a beat longer and with sudden force, his chest slammed into my back and I leaned into him. Hayden’s hand crept up my shirt, palming my breast. His movements weren’t gentle, but firm. He knew what he wanted and god, I wanted it, too.

His fingers dipped under my waistband, diving deep, touching me between my legs. His breath grew ragged and deep.

“Put your hands on the washer,” he told me.

I did, and he rummaged through his pockets dropping coins, wadded up paper and a condom nearby. He picked up the condom and tore the wrapper with his teeth.

I heard the clink of his buckle and the rustle of his jeans as they fell to the ground. I felt the soft brush of his cock across my backside as it sprang to life. Then he rolled the condom on and I waited, petrified to move—scared he’d change his mind.

He reached for my leggings and yanked them down, the cool air from the basement hitting my thighs. He ran his hands over my ass, cupping my cheeks, then easing my panties over my hips.

I trembled at his touch and he said, “Heav, you okay?”

I nodded.

“Speak up, or we can’t do this.”

“Yes. I’m okay. I want this.”

He tapped my hip. “Spread wider.”

My stomach dropped, but I did as he directed. The weight of his hands dragged down my sides, landing at my hip.

His cock pressed into me, slipping between my legs, until he pushed in, catching me off guard. I gasped, adjusting for the briefest of moments but the feeling was so powerful, so intoxicating that I slammed back, taking him all the way in.

Hayden responded with a deep groan that shuddered from his chest through my own. At first, he moved slowly and I let him take the lead. I didn’t know what I wanted—what he wanted—this was the first time I’d done something like this. Was I doing it wrong? Was there a reason he moved so slow? His fingers tightened at my hips and a feral moan fell from his lips and he just…let loose.

The tentativeness from earlier was gone and Hayden pounded into me from behind. I clung to the washer, watching the coins from his pocket bounce across the metal with every thrust until they found a pace, a rhythm that was uniquely ours.

A slow-moving wave rolled over me, separating my body from anything that wasn’t connected directly back to my person. Anything that wasn’t Hayden in this very defined moment. My elbows buckled and his arm snaked around me, holding me up just like he’d wanted. I felt him everywhere and the tight coil inside my belly wound and wound until I was sure it would snap, breaking me into a million pieces.

“Oh god,” I cried, barely able to speak. Hayden held on tight, never stopping, never letting go. My name fell from his lips.

I fell forward, collapsing on my arms, my insides quivering with release, which only seemed to encourage him. Hayden pumped in me harder but more definitive, eventually groaning with deep satisfaction. He eased in and out, slowing, finishing, until his hand landed on my back and he pulled away.

I rested my face on the cool metal of the washer, overcome.

Breathing heavy behind me, he walked off for a second, tossing the condom in the trash. I watched him go, looking at the lean muscles of his thighs, the red heat of his cock. He glanced my way, worry marring his face. I lifted up to my elbows.