I can’t sleep. It doesn’t matter what I do. I’ve tried a shower, I’ve tried to have a glass of warm milk, but nothing is working. All I can think about is Axel. Tonight he’s haunting my mind, my thoughts, and nothing I can do is going to push him out. So I’ve decided to read as much as I can, trying to take my mind off it. I’m midway through a sappy romance that has me snorting more than it has me intrigued when I hear my window rattle.
I stiffen, and fear washes up my spine.
Is someone breaking in?
My lamp is only dull now, but my eyes are locked on the window trying to see what’s outside. I should call out to Lady, but I can’t make myself move. Fear is funny like that. You know you should run, but your body refuses to acknowledge that need, and freezes.
I’m sure for the longest moment I don’t breathe, and when the window slides up, I let out a scream. I scurry off the bed, and crash into the nearby bedside table.
“Whoa, Cricket, it’s just me.”
Axel?
My heart is beating so loudly I can hardly hear anything else. I slowly lift myself off the floor to see Axel standing in front of the window. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, and I realize he’s been drinking. What the hell did he ride out here drunk this late at night for? I open my mouth, but he shakes his head. Something in his eyes tells me he doesn’t want me to speak and ruin whatever he’s come out here for. So I don’t.
He walks around the bed, and over to the door. He locks it before turning to me. I feel my body become aware of him. He looks gorgeous—not that there’s ever a time he doesn’t. His hair is messy from being in his helmet, and he’s got a good few days worth of stubble on his jaw. He’s the beautiful side of darkness. I feel my lip slip into my mouth, and I clamp down on it, feeling my body becoming anxious.
When he reaches me, he stretches his hand out, tucking a strand of dark hair behind my ear. Then he steps forward, wrapping a hand around my hip, and pulling me close.
His mouth closes over mine before I get the chance to think or protest. His lips move softly, claiming mine, bringing me to new heights. He slowly pushes us back toward the bed, and, gently, he lays me down.
I don’t understand what he’s doing, and I don’t really want to. I just want him.
I’m sick of feeling like that’s such a bad thing.
His body moves over mine, and I can smell the leather of his jacket. It’s a smell I’ve always loved, even back when my father used to wear his colors. I reach up, curl my fingers around the tough material, and I tug him closer. With a groan, he complies, and his hand runs down my thigh, lifting it up and over his hip. A whimper escapes my mouth, and he takes the chance to bite my lower lip softly.
“Axel,” I breathe. “Please.”
He slips his fingers underneath my nighty, and finds my panties. He circles around them for a minute, before slipping his hand inside and finding my damp sex. He makes an appreciative sound in his throat, before taking hold of my panties and moving off me, taking them as he goes. I lift myself up onto my elbows and watch as he rocks backward and tosses them onto the floor.
Then I watch with full female appreciation as he grips his belt buckle, and undoes it, before sliding it completely off. He undoes the top button of his jeans, and jerks them down, freeing his cock. I lick my lips. I can’t help it, he looks so fuckable like this. He wraps his hand around his length and begins stroking as he slowly moves back over me. He doesn’t take his jacket off, or even pull his jeans further down—he just slides over me like that.
It’s so brutal. So raw. So dirty.
I love it.
He takes my thigh again, and then he guides himself into my already waiting pussy. I arch into him, smothering my groan into his shoulder as he slowly fills me. I love the feeling I get as I stretch to accommodate him. It’s a feeling of pure satisfaction. He takes my hip in his hand, and he begins to thrust, slowly, driving into me just perfectly.
“Oh God, Axel,” I whimper, trying to keep as quiet as I can.
“Fuck,” he murmurs into my shoulder as he drops his head, and keeps up the steady, perfect pace.
He’s not being rough, and he’s not being gentle. He’s giving me the perfect amount of both. I reach up, and tangle my fingers into his hair, and I lift his head from my shoulder to seek out his lips. He lets me take them, and I kiss him softly, moving my lips over his, and occasionally sliding my tongue out and running it across his bottom lip. My entire body is wound up, and I know I’m ready to come, but I don’t want this moment between us to end.
“You need to come,” he rasps into my ear. “Now, darlin’.”
I squirm beneath him, trying to hold back, but it’s pointless. He’s just got me at that point. With one last thrust, I come. My teeth close down on his shoulder to smother my moans, and I hear his almost pained growl as his body stiffens. I prepare myself for the moment where he’ll pull out and find his release in my mouth, but he doesn’t stop thrusting.
His entire body is stiff, and his eyes are tightly shut, like it pains him to keep going, like it’s going against everything he’s ever known. He thrusts his hips harder, and our skin slaps together. I don’t know what to do. My heart aches for him. I reach up, and I cup his cheek. This seems to soothe him just slightly, and his thrusting becomes a little less desperate.
“It’s okay,” I whisper.
He buries his head into my shoulder, and with a ragged, almost feral cry, I feel his cock pulsing deep inside me. His body jerks, and his fists are tight up beside my head as he milks every last drop from his body.
We lay for a long moment, with him still inside me. I don’t know what to say; I don’t even know if he wants me to say anything. After a moment, he pulls out of me, and rolls off the bed. I watch with a look of confusion as he pulls his jeans up, and runs a hand through his hair. He looks disorientated, but more than that, he looks completely shaken.
His eyes fall on mine, and I give him a weak, wobbly smile. He leans down, taking the back of my head and bringing me close, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. Then he pulls back and turns toward the window.
Just as he reaches it, he turns, and stares at me once more. “You’re not nothin’, Cricket, and you never will be,” he says, his voice barley above a whisper.
Then he climbs out my window.
And I can’t help the small smile that creeps across my face. Axel just gave me a part of himself. Albeit tiny, it was still a part of him.
He let me, for just a second, see the broken man hiding behind the monster.