(5/13) In this follow-up to Clipped Wings, the emotional love story continues between Hayden and Tenley; two young people who desperately want to love and be loved but are afraid to completely let go of their pasts.
In the wake of losing Tenley Page, tattooist Hayden Stryker's tumultuous past is haunting him. Plagued by nightmares about the murder of his parents, Hayden reaches out again to Tenley. Having run from the man she doesn't believe she deserves, Tenley finally lays her guilt to rest. Despite their intense physical attraction, Hayden and Tenley struggle to repair their fragile emotional connection. As Hayden gets closer to the truth, he must find a way to reconcile his guilt over his parents' death in order to keep the woman who finally cracked his armor, and found her way into his heart.
“I shouldn’t have waited this long.” His tongue ring peeking out to slide over his bottom lip and click against the viper bite.
I must have looked as worked up as I felt because his mouth turned up in a cocky grin and he pushed away from the rail. He stalked across the small space in two long strides and stopped in front of me, close but not touching.
With lazy fingers he undid the buttons on my coat, parting the sides to reveal my dress. It no longer conformed to my curves, having been stretched out in my altercation with Professor Calder.
The elevator chimed, signalling our arrival on the second floor. Hayden motioned for me to exit. His palm settled on my low back, guiding me down the hall. As soon as we were inside his condo, I found myself pressed against the wall. Hayden’s mouth covered mine and he pushed my coat over my shoulders.
“You have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”
It was a warning and a plea. We needed each other on the most basic level. It was that simple.
“Are you healed enough?” One hand slipped between my legs. “Please tell me this is okay.”
“It’s been long enough.” I rocked against his palm, testing out the friction.
Not interested in preliminaries, he pulled my dress up to my hips and broke the kiss to get it over my head. It joined my coat on the floor. His breath left him in a rush as he exposed the pale blue bra covered in a tiny-cupcake print. Hayden’s calm composure broke as he traced the hot-pink lace edge with fingers that shook.
“How much more of this cupcake stuff do you have?”
“Let’s just say my shopping trip with the girls was theme oriented.” I pulled down the zipper on his coat.
“That’s very good to hear.”
He kissed me again, slow and deep, walking me backward down the hall to his bedroom. Light filtered through the half-open curtains, leaving nothing in shadow. When we reached the bed, I lifted myself onto the edge. Hayden didn’t waste any time as he rid me of my tights, tossing them on the floor. I returned the favour by tugging his shirt over his head.
“I fucking love these.” Hayden cupped my breasts and skimmed lower to sweep over the satin and lace at my hips.
As he claimed my mouth again, his palms smoothed around my back and found the clasp of my bra, freeing it. It joined the rest of our clothes on the floor. Hayden’s thumbs brushed over my nipples, gently at first and then pinching roughly. My gasp broke the kiss.
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” he murmured.
He sank to his knees and I parted my legs. Warm hands drifted up the outside of my thighs as he placed a penitent kiss on the offended nipple. The tenderness was a stark contrast to the heat and need in him. He sucked and nibbled his way across to the other breast. Desire sparked fire in my veins. I was consumed by the craving to feel him on me, in me, shattering me and making me whole at that same time.
Hayden’s breath came out in quick pants as he filled me. I couldn’t stop the high-pitched moan that fell from my lips when my ass came to rest on his thighs.
“Are you okay?” He released his viselike grip on my hips.
His palms flattened against my back and moved up, curling around my shoulders, holding me still.
I waited until the hot burn subsided before I answered. “I’m better than okay.” I rocked slightly, testing him and myself, desperate to move yet not wanting him to let go of me.
“Kitten.” His grip tightened in warning and he exhaled slow, heavy breaths.
We sat there for a long while, bodies still. When he was ready, he pried his fingers from my shoulders and kissed where they had been. His palms came to rest on the swell of my ass. I lifted slowly, the fullness giving way to emptiness. When I felt the steel balls pass the most sensitive spot, I reversed the motion, taking him back inside.
He took over then, setting a slow, even pace. The angle, the position, the way he kept me from moving at the speed I wanted—lips brushing, but not kissing—turned my body into a wasteland of need. I looked down to the place where we were joined to watch him slide out of me. The next downward stroke came fast and hard, my moan cut short by my ragged intake of breath.
“It’s too good. You feel too fucking good.” He shook his head, then his body went rigid. “Shit. Sorry. I couldn’t help it.” When the tremors stopped, he kissed me in atonement. “Now that that’s out of the way . . .”
He moved against me, igniting my embers into flames. “You sure you don’t need some downtime?” I asked breathlessly.
“Never with you.” He laid me on the bed, staying inside me. He kissed the valley between my breasts and sat back on his knees, wrapping my thighs around his waist. Then he pulled his hips back and eased forward, gauging my response. “Okay?”
He rose up, keeping his hold on my legs; the new angle drove him deeper. I reached behind me, searching for something to grab. The wooden slats of the headboard were the perfect anchor. I stretched my arms above me, gripping tightly. The rest of my body curved toward Hayden on his knees.
He moved hesitantly at first, but it wasn’t enough for either of us. He was too needy, conflict raging as he battled for control he didn’t have.
I met his fiery gaze. “Take me.”
He unlocked my legs from his hips and pushed them toward my body. Leaning forward, he hooked my ankles over his shoulders, bearing down. My knees hit my chest and I gripped his forearms. The weight of his body sent another ripple of desire rushing through me. And then he started to move.
“Is this what you were looking for?” He punctuated each word with a powerful thrust, his mouth beside my ear.
I responded with a series of affirmative expletives. I was pinned beneath him as he pounded into me, unleashing sensations I had no idea my body was capable of producing. I couldn’t find leverage, unable to move. He was dominating the act entirely, making my body a slave to his.
“God, I love fucking you,” he said through labored breaths, his hips slapping ceaselessly against my thighs.
It was so close to the words I wanted to hear from him, but was afraid I didn’t deserve. I knitted my fingers in his hair and kissed my way across his jaw. His mouth opened to accept me, then he took control of that as well.
“I don’t want to be without you again,” I said, wishing I could tell him how I felt, afraid to.
My response elicited a deep groan from Hayden, pushing me over the edge. I was barely past the crest of my orgasm when he folded back on his knees, easing my right leg over to the other shoulder. His forearm crossed over my shins, holding my legs to his chest, my unmarked skin against the network of art that covered him. He looked down at me, all the unspoken words reflected in his eyes.
“I’ll never get enough of you .” His voice was rough.
He changed tempo, his hips moving inexorably slow. But the orgasm didn’t wane. Instead it was wave after wave of excruciating pleasure. My body went into overdrive, so sensitive I trembled with the unending release.
“Oh, God. It’s too much.”
I bowed up in an arc and gripped the sheets, needing to hold on to something. He was gloriously feral as his hands moved down my shins, over my knees, and across my thighs. His fingers were tight on my hips as he continued the erotic assault.
His viselike grip relaxed and his pace slowed once again. My legs slid off Hayden’s shoulders and rested limply on either side of his thighs. He splayed one hand between my shoulder blades and his other palm pressed flat against my stomach. His fingers ghosted over hypersensitive skin.
Suddenly he lifted me into his lap again and circled a nipple with his tongue, and my wilted form jerked in his arms. He chuckled darkly, trailing kisses until our mouths met.
His movements were gentle and reverent as I regained some control over my body. He pulled me close, his hands on my waist, grinding me over him. Soon, his short thrusts sped up and became more frantic.
Just like the first time we were together, he cupped my chin in his palm and whispered hoarsely, “Look at me.”
His icy-blue eyes shone with vulnerability.
“I—I need—” He shook his head. “You’re mine.” His body stiffened.
It felt as if I had always been his. My heart belonged to him for as long as he wanted to keep it.