- Chapter Eight -

Zoe

Salt and sin. Huck tasted like everything I imagined he would.

He stood up for me. I bit his lower lip, tugging. He fought for me. Gliding my tongue over the roof of his mouth, I reveled in each groove.

Huck won't betray me.

I wanted it to be true. I was willing to let myself believe it could be.

It's always easier to believe something when you're floating in a cloud of lust. I'd been struggling every second to resist this man. Huxton was sexy as hell, but it was more than that.

My ache for him had grown deeper than just a hunger for his warm skin, firm hands and firmer cock. The way he could ripple his body... the intensity of his eyes...

There were many reasons to crave Huxton Blake.

My sole reason?

He had decided, without me begging or praying, to stand up and fight for me. Not in the ring, and not for money, he'd gone head to head with the man who had wronged me.

Reese had strung me through the mud. What a fucking liar. How long had he been playing me?

Six months. Did he skim cash from every fight?

This meant I owed more money than I thought. It was soul crushing, the terror of walking backwards when you thought you were moving into the future.

Nehro had never said a word. He knew, and he'd been happy to leave me ignorant. He wanted me to fail... he wanted me to default on that awful contract.

He probably prayed every night for me to give in and spread my legs for him.

Why did so many people seek to use me?

“Zoe,” Huck breathed, his fingers coiling in my scalp. I gasped as he wrenched me away, demanding space between our lips. Facing him was hard, my head was swimming. I couldn't focus. “Zoe, why—fuck, I can't believe I'm saying this. Why are you kissing me?”

Oxygen wheezed through my open mouth, but struggled to touch my brain. Everything inside my skull felt warm and wet and too big to be kept inside. “Because I've been dying to kiss you since you drove me home on your motorcycle last night.” Last night. Had it really only been a day since we'd met?

I didn't care. I wanted to feel something good for once. Hope... hope was tantalizing.

I leaned forward, wanting to taste him again.

His hands held me steady by my hair, so rough they lifted pinpricks of light behind my eyes. Lowering my gaze, I stared longingly at the massive shape outlined in his jeans. I whispered, “You want to kiss me, too. Don't tell me you're any different.”

Huck's chest broadened, air sucking in until he was at full capacity. “Babe, I am different.” He yanked me forward, his forehead crushing against mine. “I wanted to kiss you hours before that ride. The minute I first saw you, sitting in that chair, crown on your head like a fucking queen... I knew I had to have you.”

My world became his eyes and his smell and those wicked lips. That was all that existed.

That was all I needed.

In a whirl of my own hair, Huck spun me. Rough, cool stone dug into my shoulders. It trapped me in place. But Huxton... he put that solid wall to shame. He was far harder than the brick behind me.

I'd kissed him once, seconds ago. His mouth made me forget I'd been the one to do it first. He made me forget everything with his soft lips and sharp teeth.

Being kissed by Huxton was akin to inhaling a typhoon. He stripped me raw, made it impossible to think.

He shoved a knee between my legs, forcing mine apart. Cupping my jaw, angling my head, he licked the arch of my throat. “God, you taste fucking amazing. I need more of you.” Lowering his face, he bit my shoulder through my jacket. “I want to see all of you, Zoe. I'm going to peel everything away until I expose you. I'll lick every inch of your skin and back again. Would you like that, babe?”

All I could manage was a moan.

Chuckling darkly in his throat, Huck teased his other hand up my thigh. “That's a yes if I ever heard one. Fuck, how wet are you right now?”

Shit, he's killing me. This was happening fast, a landslide I was being smothered under. I couldn't speak, and I didn't dare try. Whatever I said... it would reveal too much. More than I was willing to admit.

Blushing, I tried to shake my head—his palm allowed nothing. I had to look down my nose to see his face. His smirk was jagged and delicious.

Huck whispered, “You don't want to tell me out loud? That's fine. I can see for myself.” His wide hand grazed the top button of my jeans. With the last of the cool stone vanishing under my growing heat, I trembled.

Sliding lower, Huck traced the zipper—thumbed the brass button. I couldn't close my legs, his knee was a firm blockade.

He nuzzled my cheek; thick, dark hair caressed me. “Say that you're wet for me. If you can do that, I won't fuck you in this filthy alley. I'll take you back to my place, lay you out on a nice bed... make it soft and tender and sweet as god damn honey.”

His fingers tread in circles, curving over the gap of my thighs. He was so close to my cunt. It didn't feel like I had anything between us, nothing to keep him from realizing how excited I was.

Licking my lips, I shut my eyes. Do I want to tell him? I didn't know. I was lost in my desires, completely forgetting how hard I had fought against this man. My reasons were muddled under the tingles.

I was hungry for him. I could feel my own slick juices without moving.

But still, admitting how wild he was making me... it was too much.

“Last chance, doll,” he growled. Cupping me through my jeans, he squeezed roughly. My moan wasn't sweet or soft or modest. “Shit,” he breathed out, searing my ear. “Maybe you do just want me to fuck you right here.”

I had forgotten I had hands—my limbs had been numb. Now, I curled my fingers into Huck's hair, forcing him up so I could kiss him. He shuddered, and I felt a flash of power. I was exciting him as much as he was tormenting me.

My voice was liquid fire. “In this alley, at your place, on your damn bike... I don't care.” Wrenching him away, I stared into his furious green eyes and didn't blink. “Just fuck me, Mr. Romantic. I'm tired of waiting.”

He sized me up, both hands slipping down to crush my hips. “Yes, ma'am. Happy to be of service.” With ease, he twirled me. My cheek brushed the stone, skin so sensitive that the texture was like sandpaper. It went through my jacket and shirt, chilling my firm nipples.

Holding me by the wrists, all in a single hand, Huck pulled my arms to the small of my back. Over my eager, surprised gasp, I listened to him growl. “I'll fuck you like you're asking... but we do it my way.”

His way.

That sounded perfect.

With his free fingers, he deftly removed my jacket. It bunched up around my arms, not falling as he kept hold of my wrists. I thought he'd have trouble reaching me. I was wrong.

Yanking my spine into a sharp curve, he lifted my chest off the wall. A mere few inches, enough to get under the cotton and trace my tits through my bra. I whimpered, tossing my head.

He didn't remove my bra, he just yanked it up, exposing my breasts. December wind brushed the dusky tips, making them impossibly stiffer. Easy targets for his thumb and forefinger.

Twisting lightly, he drew forth another moan. Huck murmured, “Jesus, you're sensitive.” Flicking finger-pads over the other nipple, he nuzzled the back of my ear. “Is all of you like this?”

“Like what?” I gasped.

“Perfect for fucking.” His tongue made swirls on my neck. Cupping my left breast, he squeezed softly—then hungrily. “Go ahead, tell me what I'll find when I reach into your pants and rub that impatient cunt.”

Color blocked out my vision. “Shit, you have a filthy mouth,” I hissed.

Huxton brought his hand to my jeans, popping the button. “Love, every inch of me is filthy.”

Pleasure controlled my lower belly. So did my urge to show him that I knew he was going as wild as me. Shifting my hips, I rubbed my ass along the front of his jeans. The material bulged, bruising us both. His cock was rigid as steel.

He hissed through clenched teeth. “If you're trying to make me harder, I don't think it's possible. You like the feel of that?” Huck rocked into me, pressing me against the wall. “That's all from you, babe.”

Okay, I admit—that made me grin proudly. He erased my expression with the agile unzipping of my jeans. My smugness melted, a whimper left in its place.

Huck slid my pants down, dipping inside the front. Two fingers outlined the grooves just outside my panties. I almost fell—his body held me up. He whispered, “You're on fire down here.”

Wrong. I was on fire everywhere. I sought him out, desperate to get his fingers to touch my pussy. Huck was keen to stroke anywhere but where I needed him to. I drove my hips forward; he just laughed, squeezing my inner thigh.

“I like this side of you,” he said. “You're fun when you go a bit crazy.”

“I'm not crazy.”

“Then what are you?”

Shutting me eyes, I bit my tongue. He would have none of that.

Letting my wrists go, he used my hair as a handle. Fingers tickled near my clit, his lips brushing my cheek. Forcing me to look at him, Huxton let me see the lust in his emerald eyes. He'd never hidden behind a curtain, not like me.

Yet somehow... now?

I was gazing into the eyes of a wicked creature. Someone that was barely holding back from eating me up, from making me scream.

He thumbed my engorged clit—just once. “Aah!” I squeaked, shaking down to the heels of my feet.

“Don't run from me, Zoe.” The fist in my hair wrenched sharply, setting my scalp on fire. It hurt, but I fucking loved it. The pain made me more aware of everything—the breeze, my own skin, and him. Huxton Blake.

The man who wanted to ruin me.

And I was ready for it.

Hell, I needed it.

Licking my lips, I breathed out, “Fuck me.”

His fingers clenched, mouth twitching. My demand had melted some of his strength. Huck was lusting for me, his cock jamming through his jeans and against my ass. “Say it again,” he demanded.

Unblinking, I stared him in the eye. His expectation made me shiver. “Fuck. Me.” I punctuated every word. I wanted him to understand. No games—I needed him inside of me, or I was going to lose my mind.

Two fingers slid into my cunt, curling through my wetness. I moaned, thrusting into his palm. It wasn't his cock, but it was better than my own fingers. Far better than what I'd done to myself in the safety of my bed.

Masturbating to the idea of Huxton was a mere shadow when compared to the real thing.

“You're fucking tight,” he groaned. Deeper, he explored me. His thumb twisted, brushing my clit, pushing me so close to coming I expected my heart to just stop. He'd gotten me near my climax with ease.

He touched me expertly. His experience was clear, and it thrilled and intimidated me simultaneously. I loved that he knew what to do, but that power... god. The things he could do to me.

The things he could make me do to him.

Sex could be a weapon, I knew that. And still, in his capable hands, I shrugged away the danger. I was already becoming addicted to this man, could it possibly get worse after he made me come?

I didn't let myself answer that.

Huck wriggled his fingers, testing what I could handle. Electricity bounced to my brain, muscles hugging him, fluttering. “You're close, doll. I can feel it.” Again, he gave my clit a casual rub. “I can't wait to feel you come. Fuck, my cock is throbbing at the thought of it. I've been dreaming about the sounds you'll make for me, Zoe.”

That was it. I was done.

Throwing my head back into his shoulder, I sobbed as the orgasm ripped through me. My knees bent, pushing together, trapping his hand. The hot pressure surged, my pussy clenching desperately onto his fingers.

Pleasure turned my tongue numb. He'd created such a massive ball of desire in my stomach, the tension flexing and melting through my cunt.

In my ear, he hissed, “Fuck, that's magical. I'm done waiting, I can't—not after that.” His fingers pulled free with a wet sound, juice tickling my skin. I tried to move my arms, but my jacket was bunched so tight around my wrists they were essentially cuffs.

His metallic zipper sliced through the air. My gasp followed it.

Gripping my panties, Huck tore them and my pants all the way to my ankles. I was completely vulnerable, he had me pinned. But I wasn't scared. Fuck no.

I was ravenous.

Warm, curved—his cock rubbed on my lower back. “I love the sight of that,” he chuckled.

Speaking was a challenge, but I managed. “What?”

“My cock, just seeing it wedged between your perfect ass-cheeks like this.” Gripping me, he spread me open, ground right against my sensitive skin.

I heard something tearing open. A condom. I was sure of it. It was happening, this was real.

Huxton was actually going to fuck me.

Intentionally, he yanked my hips away from the wall. I tumbled forward, my tits pressing roughly on the stone. His hand went to my shoulders, holding me so I wouldn't just collapse.

The new angle opened me to him. Air swirled over my soaked pussy from behind, his fingers peeling me further. “Gorgeous,” he hissed with fervor. “Fucking beautiful. You've got a pussy worth writing songs about, Zoe.”

My head swam, but I smiled helplessly. “Are you going to serenade me?”

“No,” he said, pushing the fat tip of his cock to my entrance. “But you might. A pretty song made from your moans and squeals.”

I stopped listening—I stopped breathing. Huck was spreading me open inch by fucking inch. I'd gotten a good look at his dick through his briefs before, I'd known it was big. Now, he was making me wonder if I could handle him in his entirety.

Huxton filled me beyond capacity. Amazingly, my pussy rippled and begged and adjusted to let him in. The sensation was maddening, I couldn't hold still. Out of my control, my hips twitched and demanded more of him.

My pussy was a glutton for Huxton Blake.

Groaning from low in my belly, I rocked backwards. How was he not finished? How much more of this man was there?

Luckily, I was soaked. There was little friction, just my cunt strangling his length as it drove to his base. He scraped my roof, hit a part of me that turned my brain to jelly. I forgot how to form words. I just whimpered and whined; creating a song for him, just like he'd said I would.

His legs bumped my hamstrings. With a raspy grunt, he sank to his root. His full thickness stretched my walls to their limit. And then he began moving.

“God,” he said, withdrawing until just the ridge of his head was inside. “If it weren't for this condom, I think I'd come in a few seconds. You feel that good.” Digging nails into the dip of my waist, he slid into me with practiced patience. “But then... maybe you'd like that, hm? Me, losing control and filling this tight pussy with my hot come.”

My eyes rolled in my head, lashes fluttering. Holy fucking shit. Huck was dirty, and I did love it. He was playing me like an instrument he'd been holding since he was a kid.

I had a brief moment, my mind wandering—making jumps. How many women has he been with to be this good? He was a stripper, I'd enjoyed his dance skills... did he sway every lady with his words and fingers when he had them alone?

And then, as he slammed his cock into me again, I stopped caring. It didn't matter how he'd become so good with his cock, he just was. And I was enjoying it now. Me. Just me.

Breathing heavy, Huck increased his speed. Gentle strokes become rough thrusts, our skin clapping together in the quiet alley. He was losing himself in me, and that was as much of a turn on as his calm, intentional actions.

His cock swelled inside of me, making me see stars. If I filled my lungs with more air, they'd explode, and yet I couldn't get myself to breathe. The air was made from Huxton, his scent clogging my pores, my veins.

I didn't feel the orgasm coming. It sparked, a firework with no warning. Shaking, I scraped my cheek on the wall. Nothing existed but my cunt and his cock, the two of them intertwined.

Hot, wet, I came with a shout that shredded my voice. Clamping down on his length, I was acutely aware of him twitching. Crushing my hips so hard there would be imprints—tattoos created by Huck just for me—he shuddered.

Even through the condom, I felt the force of his release. Boiling warmth, tiny spasms that went on forever.

He held me to him, sweat from his bare chest dripping onto my shoulder. Our breathing was ragged, we were both drained. Turmoil from our back and forth tension had finally escaped, leaving our bones useless mush.

I started to slip, my knees no longer capable of keeping me standing. Huck caught me, easing me down until he was holding me against his chest. He slid free, grunting in my ear. I wanted him to stay inside forever, but I chewed my tongue and didn't say such a stupid thing.

I didn't know what Huck wanted from this—from us.

I didn't know what I wanted, either.

Saying something so reckless... it risked ruining the moment.

His hands moved to my back, helping me with my jacket. Flinching at the ache in my shoulders, I reclaimed the ability to use my hands. My first action? To grab his hard jaw and yank him to me for a kiss.

He used his tongue, like he wasn't sure how to be sweet. That was fine. I didn't mind the rekindled coals between my thighs.

Pushing my hair from my forehead, Huxton looked down on me. The smile he wore went to his eyes, but not beyond. His cheeks were tinged red, a sign of his exertion—or maybe the cold. “Oh,” I said, leaning over, handing him his clothes. “Shit, put these on before you get sick.”

“I'm too warm to get sick,” he chuckled. Still, he redressed, unfurling the condom and tossing it into the trash all around us. I wanted to scold him about littering. He was too quick, speaking first. Far more serious than I was ready for. “Why the hell did you fight me for so long?”

My mouth fell open. Oh, fuck. He wanted to go there, right now? Frowning nervously, I tucked my knees to my chest. “You won't like the truth.”

He curled his fingers over my knee and said, “I'll take it over not knowing.”

Glancing down, I noted the cuts on his hand. Wounds from knocking down the man who'd wronged me. Yes, he was going to hate my news. “The thing is, even from the start, you reminded me so much of Reese.”

The anger I'd expected bloomed bright. Huck's glare went into my heart, even if it wasn't meant for me. “I'm not Reese.”

“No, I know that now.” Cupping his knuckles, I felt him startle. “But it wasn't just him. It was everyone and everything, before I'd even met him.” I made myself smile. “Reese wasn't the first asshole I got hung up on.”

Some of his anger slipped out of his green eyes. “So you think I'm an asshole.”

I showed my teeth, grinning. “Would you say you're not?”

In defeat, he copied my expression.

“Huck,” I sighed, stroking down to his wrist. “Lots of people have fucked me over. Betrayed me. I want to trust you. It's probably stupid, but you give me a good feeling. I'll do my best not to hold my demons over you, but...” I wrinkled my nose. “It's just hard. Life has been hard.”

Tipping my chin up, he graced me with a serious stare. “I'll do my best not to make it harder.”

Unnerved by this side of him, I ached to ease the mood. “Was that a dirty joke?”

“No. It was a dirty promise.”

Shit. My heart was slamming into my ribs. “I'm wary about promises. People break them. But, I think... I'm okay with that one.”

Hugging me to his chest, he put his chin on my head. “That's enough for me.”

Listening to his lifeblood, I closed my eyes and wondered if maybe...

It could be enough for me, too.