Havoc:Mayhem Series #4(42)

"Take them off," I pant, and Mike doesn't ask for clarification before  he hooks his fingers inside my leggings and helps yank them off. I take  off my boots to remove the black material the rest of the way, and then I  settle on Mike's lap again, my panties damp against his jeans.

I grind against him purposefully this time, kissing him with wild lust  that fogs the truck's windows, and Mike grips my ass as I do,  encouraging me to ride him. I move my hips until the feel of his denim  fly against my thin cotton panties steals my ability to think, until my  moans are desperate cries, and Mike steals his lips from my neck to  pant, "Let me inside you, baby."

Oh God. I don't know if it was the gravel in his voice or the way he  called me baby, but I'm fumbling for his zipper even as he helps me out  of the last article of clothing I have on. Mike shifts his jeans and  boxers down in one swift movement, and then I'm hovering on my knees  above the point of no return.

On impulse, I gaze down, and my eyes widen when I see the size of what was straining inside his jeans.

"Shit," he breathes as he follows my gaze, a line forming in his brow. "I don't keep any condoms in my-"

I shake my head at him, shock still washing over me. "I'm on birth control. It's just-"

I glance down again and bite my lip between my teeth, and when I lift my eyes, his expression relaxes with relief.

"Don't worry," he assures me, his fingers exploring my body with minds  of their own. They pinch my nipples, and I bite down harder on my lip as  my body melts for him.

I'm worried. I'm definitely worried. It's been too long since I last had sex. Sex with Mike is going to hurt . . . a lot.

"Hailey," he says, and I pull my eyes from the glistening head of his  enormous cock. He holds my gaze and leans forward, kissing me softly  until my eyes flutter closed and his touch travels down, down, down.

Mike's tongue dances with mine, intoxicating and distracting as one of  his hands grips my hip and the other slides between my legs. His  fingertips find my slick, tight bud, and my knees nearly give out  beneath me.

"Mike," I gasp, and he captures his name with a kiss that makes me  heady. His fingers rub in slow circles, the friction melting me like an  ice chip lavished by a tongue. His palm brushes my clit as he slips his  hand further between my thighs, sliding a finger deep, deep into my  heat.

I struggle to kiss Mike, to keep my head from falling to his shoulder,  as he strokes the perfect spot inside me while massaging my clit with  his thumb. He kisses at the moans coming from my parted lips, and his  other hand skates up my stomach and over my breast, rolling my pebbled  nipple between his fingertips. Little bolts of pleasure jolt through me  from so many places at once, I don't know how he's managing it-his hand  between my legs, his fingers around my nipple, his lips against my lips,  his tongue between my teeth.

In ecstasy, I realize that this is what it's like-this is what it's like to be worshipped by a drummer.

Mike slips a second finger inside, and this time, I can't help breaking  the kiss to drop my forehead against his shoulder. I bite the slack of  his T-shirt between my teeth to keep from losing control, but when he  dips his head and finds the hollow of my collarbone with his satin  tongue, that control threatens to slip.

I'm overwhelmed. With his fingers filling me and his tongue savoring my  body, I'm consumed by electric sparks that lick me to my core. He's  kindling a fire that's growing out of control, and when he carefully  slides a third finger into my slick heat, pleasure-pain rockets through  me.
                       
       
           



       
"Fuck," I hiss as the heel of Mike's palm grinds over my burning bud,  coaxing my body to melt around his fingers, to stretch to fit their  width.

"Am I hurting you?" he asks, and I shake my head against his neck. My  fingertips are digging into the backs of his shoulders, my body  accepting him and demanding more.

"You're killing me," I plead against the sizzling column of his neck,  the sound of my own voice making my nipples tighten with need.

"Come for me," Mike orders over the sounds I'm making against his skin.  My sex is milking his fingers, drawing him in, begging for what's  waiting in his lap.

"I need you inside me," I plead, pulling away to burn my gaze into his.  I'm desperate for him, coming undone at my seams, and I can see him  struggling with restraint when he forces himself to deny me.

"Come first, Hailey. It'll be easier for you."

"Please," I beg, but Mike only leans forward again, forcing me back and taking my nipple between his lips.

"Oh my God," I groan, my heat clenching his fingers as he lavishes my  breast with wet kisses and swirling licks. "Oh my God. Oh-" My breath  catches in my throat and my muscles scream for release. I'm so close.  I'm so fucking close.

"Now," Mike orders, and when he pins my nipple between his teeth and  fills me to bursting with his fingers, I fall utterly, completely apart.  My hips buck and I scream his name, and I'm spasming around his fingers  when they suddenly leave me empty. The loss drives me mad with want,  and I'm not sure if I'm going to cry or scream, when his cock presses  firmly against my slick folds. I gasp as his swollen head begs entrance  into my still-orgasming sex, and Mike pushes down on my hips, stretching  me around his solid length.

"Hailey," he says, moaning my name like some people moan "God." But it's  me who worships his mouth as his fingertips sink into the meat of my  thighs, holding me in place as fireworks ignite all throughout my body.  They spark in my core as I squeeze hungrily around him, milking the  length of his satin cock as he begins to move inside me.

"Fuck, Hailey, you're so ready for me," Mike breathes against my  kiss-bruised lips. "You feel fucking amazing. You feel perfect. Baby,  open your eyes."

I struggle to open my eyelids in spite of the sensations rocking my  sweat-beaded body, but when I do, I can tell my pupils are dilated and  my eyes are still half-lidded. Everything is brighter, crisper, and  Mike's chocolate gaze melts any parts of me that were still whole. He  lifts his hands, pushing my wild hair from my eyes and holding my face  gently in his palms. I know what he's going to say before he says it-I  can see it in the way he looks at me, the way he touches me.

"I love you."

His eyes are locked with mine when he says it, and this time, it's just  us. It's just us in the dark with him penetrating my body and my soul,  and when I kiss him, he listens. He listens to everything I can't say  yet.

My lips tell him that no one-no one-has ever made me feel the way he  does. He's in my head, in my heart, and having him in my body feels like  finding a puzzle piece that's been missing my entire life. He feels  like a part of me, and I'm never going to come back from this. He's  going to leave tomorrow, and I'm never going to recover from this  moment. But tonight, I have him, and I plan on taking and giving until I  can't tell where he ends and I begin.

I kiss him until Mike's hands drift from my face, caressing and teasing  my oversensitive flesh until I'm stealing control. With my knees framing  his thighs, I rock my body against him, loving the way that it makes  his fingers flex against my ass. I tug his shirt over his head and let  my lips explore his collarbone, his shoulders, the muscles of his chest.  He's so big beneath me, and I want to taste every inch of him.

With every lift of my hips, my body aches for him, and with every drop  back to his lap, I moan my ecstasy against his skin. The rougher I get,  the more desperate Mike's hands get, until he's trying to slow my pace,  trying to calm my need.                       
       
           



       

"Hailey," he warns, but I curl my tongue behind his ear and clench  around his cock. I know I'm driving him crazy, and it's too much for me  to resist. He wants me-I can feel it in the way he throbs inside my sex,  the way he catches my lips every time they pass too close. And however  wrong it is, because there are too many reasons we can't be together, I  want him to want me. When he's on tour for the next six weeks, I want  him to remember the way my tight heat pulsed around his massive cock. I  want him to compare every other girl he's ever with to me, and I want  him to find her lacking.

"Baby, you feel too fucking good," Mike warns again, putting pressure on  my hips to try to stop me from riding him so fast. He's going to come,  and I know it. And God, I want it. He's doing to me physically what he's  done to me emotionally over the past few weeks-tugging at my strings,  making me want him, and I can't deny it anymore. I want him to come in  me. I'm hungry for the way his cock will pulse in my body, the way his  eyes will look when he gives himself to me.