the pain, the frustration, the anger in his expression and I want to heal him from all of it.
Thinking too long, I don't answer until I feel his fingers at my core, running along the moisture gathering there. I let out a cry as he touches me, and I can't think straight anymore. I'm aroused, but also not. I'm too scared, too nervous, too in my head to be fully aroused, but the way his fingers are moving along my sensitive skin is enough to warm up the blood running through my body.
"Nash," I whisper, grabbing onto his shoulders. Then, he's on his knees, and I don't get a moment to collect my thoughts before his mouth is there. I scream. Not because it hurts but because it feels so wrong and so right at the same time. This is Nash. Nash Wilde. Zara's Nash.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
She can't know about this. She'll never talk to me again. She'll hate me.
I keep repeating an apology to her in my head as he sucks, nibbles and licks at my pussy. God it's been so long, and I can finally feel that familiar heat building up, the feeling I haven't felt in so long. I should stop him, but I can't.
Then, his kisses are rough. Too rough. His stubble against my legs burns as he devours me, grinding his mouth against me so hard, I have to press myself against the wall while pushing him back with my knee against his shoulder.
"Nash, that hurts!" I cry out.
Then, I’m off the floor again. This time my legs are on his shoulders, wrapped around his head as he sucks every ounce of arousal out of me. Finally, his pressure lets up a little, and the sensitivity it left behind only makes my body react quicker. I have nothing to grasp onto except the wall and his head.
My climax hits hard without any buildup, and it leaves as fast as it came. Still, I let out a moan as my body freezes in his hands. I know I can do better. I know my body is capable of more. That wasn't enough.
But as soon as he feels it fade, he pulls back, letting my body melt to the floor. When I reach for his face, he moves away.
"Don't fuck with Ellis," he whispers, and it shocks me so much I glare at him in confusion.
"What?"
"Stay away from him, okay? I know he's good looking and charming, but he's just..."
"Just what?" I ask, still a little breathless and very confused.
"I don't trust him with you, Hanna."
My eyes squint as I stare skeptically at him. "You mean, you don't want him to have me."
"Will you just fucking listen to me?" His voice is growing heated, and I can feel my own blood starting to boil. The idea of Nash Wilde trying to tell me what to do, to corner me, keep me for himself, control my actions makes me want to spit fire.
"I don't have to listen to you," I snap, pushing him away. "You're so fucking jealous. Yesterday you didn't want me, but now that another man shows interest..."
My voice trails.
And he stares at me silently like he’s trying to guess what I'm thinking.
"This is what you get off on, isn't it? You can't handle a woman alone, but you want there to be competition."
"Oh, fuck off, Hanna. I’m protecting you, okay? And this…” he says gesturing to the space between us, signifying what we just did—or rather what he did to me. “You looked like you could use the stress relief, and I did you a favor."
"No, you came in here because you think I'm weak. You think you could beat him to me, and I would fall down on my knees for you, Nash, but I won't."
"Fuck you, Hanna."
"No, fuck you, Nash!" Then I give him a good shove, and before I know it, I'm pressed up against the wall again, and when he rears back his hand, I flinch waiting for the impact. Instead, he slams his fist against the wall next to my head, and I hear the crack of his knuckles, letting out a scream.
"Get the fuck off me," I howl, fighting and kicking against him.
He hoists me up, carrying me, and at first I think we're going to the bedroom, and my blood goes cold. Not that. Not Nash. I can't handle that.
But then we're outside. My bare ass is in the air as I'm slung over his shoulder, and I