My lips moved to her jawline, and I trailed soft kisses along it, my hands still pinching and pulling on her nipples, making her body squirm. I then moved my mouth to the crook of her neck, running my tongue up along the sensitive part of her. She shivered, cooing against me, and I felt the familiar aching of longing in my balls. I wanted to feel her pussy wrapped around my length, but I wouldn’t rush it. It would come soon enough.
After her neck, I moved to her collarbone, my lips roaming across her soft skin. Giselle let out a gentle sigh of a breath when my hands left her tits, only to be replaced by my mouth soon after.
I took a nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the pebbled point. I sucked, and she practically came undone. She moaned, unable to keep the sound stifled—which was good, for I didn’t want her to be quiet. I wanted to hear each and every sound she made when I pleasured her.
I didn’t want to think about the guy in the Playground. I had my suspicions, though I never outright asked if it was Cade. Seeing her walk away from him carrying gloves… I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t want to think about her possibly comparing us, our skills. As jealous as I was over the man—or men—she’d given herself to, I also knew none of that mattered.
It was just us now, and I had to push all other thoughts out of my head.
I paid the same attention to her other nipple before moving my mouth to the center of her chest, placing another kiss there. A trail of kisses down her stomach, I stopped when I neared the scab. I picked up my face, glanced up at her and found her eyes were closed. Giselle wasn’t watching. She was letting me do whatever I wanted—she trusted me, and that realization nearly broke my heart in two.
I wasn’t lying when I’d told her I wanted to be a better man for her, that I wanted to do what was right. If it wasn’t for that, she’d be a goner by now. She’d be dead, deader than a fucking doornail.
I ran my fingers around the scab, asking quietly, “Does it hurt?”
Giselle murmured, “Sometimes, but I can handle it. I’ve felt worse.”
Hearing her say that made me close my eyes and wish I could make it all better for her, that I could be her hero. But that’s the thing about men like me, men like her father and the others on the Hand—and even the ones trying to get on the Hand: we weren’t heroes. We were incapable of being good. We would never be angels. We were in the land of sinners, and men like us were the demons who ruled over the rest.
I lowered my head, placing a gentle kiss on the wound. It would surely scar, and her flawless skin would be flawless no longer, thanks to me. But, as much as it hurt me to do it, as much as it still pained me to think back to that night, I knew without a doubt that if it wasn’t me, it would’ve been someone else, and they wouldn’t have missed.
They would’ve killed her, and then where would that have left me, us? It wasn’t like Giselle would’ve run away with me. Running wasn’t in her DNA.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered against her skin. “I’m sorry, Giselle.” That was as much of an apology as I could say, at least without telling her the entire truth. She’d hate me. There was no way we would be in this position if she knew I was the one who’d shot her. She might suspect her father was somehow involved, but she didn’t suspect me, and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.
Let me be swallowed up by my own guilt in my own time. For now, I would focus on the girl of my dreams and make her feel amazing.
I brought my face between her legs, spreading her thighs wide for me. Her apex was waiting. I was seconds from tasting Giselle like I’d never tasted her before, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to it. I wanted to bury my face between these beautiful legs and never come up for air again.
My tongue snaked out, and I lowered myself to that sweet spot. I ran my tongue along her slit, dipping it deeper once it reached her pussy, tasting her arousal for myself. Giselle’s body trembled with what I could only hope was pleasure, and I brought that tongue up to her clit and circled it once before giving it a gentle suck.
Oh, she was more than pliant in my hands. Or in my mouth. However you looked at it. She moaned when I did something right, arched her back when my tongue found its way into her pussy again. I fucked her with my tongue for a bit, my cock twitching along with every sound she made. I brought her to the edge of bliss and back again, and when I felt her body starting to give way to an orgasm, I took my mouth to her clit once more, sucking her until she came.
Giselle hummed, her hands squeezing the sheets around her. The muscles in her thighs clenched, and she blurted out the rushed words, “Fuck, Zander.” Never had I heard a more feminine, more breathy voice, and it sent a chill down my spine, made my cock tingle in all the right ways.
I had to get inside of her, had to feel her inner core. I wanted to fuck that pussy like there was no tomorrow—and for us, there might not be. Tomorrow was never a certainty when it came to Giselle and me, so we had to make use of the limited time we had.
Licking my lips, I crawled up her body, cock in my hand. I felt like I could explode right now, without even being inside of her, so I knew I had to go at her slowly, at least at first. Her eyelids were slits, open just enough so that I could lock eyes with her, and I pressed my tip against her slick entrance, hardly breathing as my hips bore down and I slid into that tight, wet cunt.
Fuck, did she feel amazing. All logical thoughts vanished from my head the moment I was hilt-deep in her, my balls clenching with pleasure. I turned into the animal Giselle made me feel like, taking on a steady rhythm as I fucked.
Was this really happening? Was my cock really inside her sweet, sweet pussy right now? If this was a dream, I never wanted to wake up. Everything I was, everything I would be, none of it mattered. It was only her.
Her hands found my sides, nails digging into my skin. Giselle moaned each time I filled her to the brink, and though I wasn’t paying too much attention to myself, I bet I did the same. Nothing could beat the feeling of being buried inside her so deeply, feeling those tight, hot walls constricting around my cock, milking me for everything I had.
This was perfect. She was fucking perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing.
My chest let out a rumble of a sound, a deep, guttural groan escaping my throat when I felt my balls slap against her ass. It took everything in me to not lose myself right then and there; coming too soon right now might just kill me. I wanted to go all day, all night, well into the next morning—but, alas, we only had until Miguel came home, and by then, I had to make sure I was long gone, and any evidence of what we’d done taken care of.
Sheets washed. Bugs planted. My ass out of here, but at least I’d take with me the memory of this day, of being with Giselle in the way I’d always dreamt of.
I cupped her face with a hand, drawing that same hand back to tangle in her hair. The yellow tendrils splayed around her head on the pillow in a halo. She seriously looked like an angel beneath me, an angel lost in rapture, in pure, erotic bliss.
“You’re fucking perfect,” I whispered, grunting as I pushed my cock inside her again. All she could do was moan, and I hoped I wasn’t causing her midsection too much pain with my thrusting. But, at the same time, it was far too late to stop. I had to keep going, had to memorize each and every way her body could move, how her pussy took my cock, how her lips formed a soft O while I hit her core just right.
She was so hot. So beautiful. I legit couldn’t get over her. If that made me a sad, pathetic man, then I supposed that’s what I was.
I fucked her for what felt like ages. I fucked her long, much gentler than I wanted to. If I had my way, I’d have her body every which way, her ass in the air, her legs wrapped around me. I’d bend her body every which way and dip my cock in every hole. That damned bullet wound wasn’t doing me any favors, but maybe… maybe there could be a next time.