Hell Fires (Age-Gap Romance)

I moved first, taking his mouth like a viper lashing out. Our kiss was full of poison at first touch. His tongue slid over mine and I tasted his venom, felt the scrape of his stubble, and the gnash of his teeth, the pull of his mouth as he stole my breath away from me.

“Fuck,” I whimpered. My whole self was centered in the suction of his hungry mouth. I wanted to feed him, give him absolutely everything he wanted to take.

He stopped and stepped back, his chest heaving. I brought my fists to his chest in protest because it seemed like sacrilege to stop a holy union like that. Maverick grabbed my wrists and slammed me back into the door. I fell into his dark kiss like Alice fell into the rabbit hole.

Goodbye whole world.

Goodbye sanity.

Goodbye every tomorrow.

Chapter 5

MAVERICK

I knew it was wrong.

Every cell in my body had some kind of alarm going off alerting me to sudden danger, to dropping altitude, to a fucking crash course of epic proportions.

And still.

I took from her mouth every tiny bit I could.

I’d never kissed a woman like that before. Like a drug. Like a possession. Like a goddamned life epiphany existed somewhere between her white teeth and her pink tongue.

I ravaged her. I kept repeating that I was sorry, but I was not sorry at all. Sorry, I might have to stop. Sorry that we would need to breathe and come up for air at some point.

“Holy fucking—Sophie, can I come in?” We were both panting. I stared at her stunning face, into her eye that was like looking into the eye of a hurricane. “I can’t. Say no, tell me no. It’s not okay.” I shook my head.

She opened the door, fisted my cut, and pulled me inside. It was pitch dark and she did not turn on a light. I sensed the dog as he whipped his hind quarters against my leg, friendly, but hard. Sophie opened the door and let him out and he ran into the moonlight.

“We should talk,” I told her.

“I don’t think talking is our thing,” she replied. She was right. I took off my cut and tossed it onto a form in the dark that looked like a chair or sofa. In seconds, I’d yanked my t-shirt over my head. I undid my belt buckle. Sophie was still, almost like she was stunned in headlights.

“We’re not fucking?” I asked her.

“I’m listening for Shakespeare. I thought your belt was his collar.” She stepped out of her boy shoes and shucked off her sweats. Flicked on the foyer light which was glaring and too bright. I blinked like a newborn while she seemed unfazed. Underneath the giant hoodie, she had on nothing but a white cotton bra. She was covered with white scars, tiny welts polka dotting her chest, as populous as her freckle party.

“Glass,” was all she said to me.

I grabbed her and ran my lips over the scars decorating her chest and shoulders like a shawl of delicate and brutal lace.

I had terrible scars. I didn’t fucking care how marred or tortured or ruined her body was. I wanted it to be mine, fully, completely, and wholly. I wanted all of it. Full stop.

She opened the door and the dog came rushing back in with a whoosh of cold air. Sophie put down the bolt and turned to me, her arms outstretched. I yanked her to me again, this time, skin to skin, the effect was even more intoxicating. With one hand on her throat and the other cradling the back of her head, I turned her cheek and ear to my lips and began to devour her with kisses that felt more like sacrament than foreplay. I tongued her ear, licked the angle of her delicate jaw. She used my forearms as I held her head to lift herself up and wrap her legs around my waist, clinging to me like she’d never let go.

“Bedroom?” I asked her. I buried my face between her small breasts and licked her sternum. I wanted to taste her everywhere.

“Down the hall,” she pointed. I followed her directions.

We didn’t turn on the light, but collapsed on the bed together in a pile. I had a hundred pounds on her easily and felt I needed to be careful. But Sophie pulled me to her greedily.

“Maybe we should slow down,” I said to her. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but this was insanity.

“I don’t go slow, I’ll tip,” she said into my kiss.

Her sweet mood renewed my vigor, hooking my thumbs into her cotton underpants, I yanked them down her slim thighs and dipped my tongue in her belly button. I pulled the straps of her bralette off of her shoulders and she pulled it down around her waist. My cock was so hard that it pressed against my stomach leaking precum from the tip. I took her mouth again which was swollen and tender, took a nipple, returned to her mouth, while her fingers undid my fly and she tugged at my jeans.