Hawke

by Jescie Hall

“Trust me, by looking at you, I can tell you’ve never been properly fucked.” He scoffs, brushing past me. “Oh, and next time you wanna play Harriet the Spy and watch me mess around, let me know. I’ll give you a better view.”

“First, if you’re going to walk in on me in the shower, the least you can do is give me a handy.”

“And second, if you’re going to have sex in the bedroom next to me, at least try to pretend you’re enjoying it.”

“Cole,” he says again, louder, and I turn to look at him by the door of the bedroom. He’s slightly turned in his chair, his arm dangling over the back of it while his head tilts at an angle to look at me. I raise my brows, waiting for him to talk. “Just wanted to try it out.” He grins his wicked smile, then turns back to his book. Jerk.

“I mean, don’t you wonder what it’s like to be fucked by someone like me? That painful pleasure that’s just sitting deep inside you.” He backs me towards the couch against the wall near the door. “There’s an ache. A want. No, a need to be filled.”

“Isn’t that what you need?” he asks, leaning in closer. “To be fucked?”

He tips his head to the side. “Bet you wanna know what this feels like against you.” He flicks his tongue against the ring again. “I see you looking at it all the time.” “Because it’s repulsive,” I counter, lying. “I beg to differ. I think you want to see what it’s like to wrap those soft lips around it.” His lips curl into a devilish grin again.

Random shapes grouped together, the hawk on his hand, skulls paired with roses, and a few choice word slogans. One slogan says, 'I lied to get here.' Another says, 'Aren’t we all sinners?' There’s a strange beauty in his chaos, a deceptive depth to his story, a magic to his madness.

“I’m great. Refreshed from one of the most comfortable naps I’ve probably ever had.” He grins smugly at me.

“You wreck me.” He studies my lips, as if memorizing the curve of my mouth. My eyes flutter up to his as we stare at each other. I swallow at his words as his eyes sear through me, reaching something I’d thought unreachable. “Wreck me, Cole.”

He pulls back, looking at me in almost disbelief, before the flood gates crash open and I pull the back of his neck into me, pressing my lips to his again.

A groan reverberates through his throat into mine. He kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before. Softly, then with such hunger, then gentle, then out of this world passionate. His hands hold me to him, pressing my hips into his, as his body moves along with the kiss. I’ve never in my life been more turned on. He licks, then sucks, then massages my tongue with his in perfect synchrony.

“Cole, tell me to stop,” he whispers into my mouth, his hand lingering. “I won’t. I can’t,” I whisper back breathlessly. “Please,” he begs again as he continues the motions, trailing his hand further south.

He licks my ear, running his warm, wet tongue along the shell before gently sucking the earlobe, then dragging his teeth on it. He slowly eases another finger in, watching me take more of him.

“Cole.” He groans again, his mouth dropping open. “Fuck.”

“What we’re about to do is wrong.” He rips the condom with his teeth, spitting out the edge of the wrapper. “So, so wrong.”

He leans down, settling himself between my thighs. “Please tell me not to,” he whispers against my mouth.

“I need this,” I moan. “Please.” I’ve lost all self-control beneath him. Whatever regrets that will come with this will have to wait.

“Just a bit more,” he says in a strained tone, attempting to reassure me as he stretches me like I’ve never felt.

“You’re as perfect as I imagined,” he whispers under his breath, eyes falling closed.

“Hawke,” I whisper breathlessly. His eyes find mine and something changes in him. “Cameron.” I swallow, confusion hitting me. “Call me Cameron,” he says, gazing from my eyes to my lips and back before wincing his eyes tightly at the feeling of being inside me. I’ve never felt so connected to someone as I do at this moment. I don’t know what to do with that. “Cameron,” I breathe out.

“You’re ruining me.” He groans against my lips. “Goddammit Cole.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Are you crazy?!” I ask, peering past him, ensuring Patrick is nowhere near. “Sorry, just saw something I liked,” he says with a cocked head, licking his bottom lip, toying with the ring.

A group of girls walk past him, giggling and flashing him looks, but he doesn’t pay attention. His eyes are locked on where Patrick’s hand is sliding down my waist.

“Don’t you have enough women on your plate awaiting a call?” I ask in a condescending tone. “None that beg for it like you do,” he whispers in a hoarse voice, his grin growing by the second.

“You’re a firecracker and you don’t even know it. But it’s okay, I’m patient.” He gives me a light head nod. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means you don’t even know who you are, yet you seemingly hold yourself back. I don’t get it. But I’ll be here when you figure it out.”

“Because I guarantee I’ll be thinking about you, wrapped tightly around me, cumming around my cock, as I jerk off in the shower tonight,” he whispers, his lip ring tickling my ear.

He leans forward towards where I’m sitting and touches my chin, running his thumb gently over my bottom lip. “I would’ve licked them clean,” he whispers into my ear, before backing into his position on the couch again. “Fuck him,” he mumbles.

He cocks his head, giving me that dangerous smirk yet again. “Because if I don’t get to be the one to make you come, I at least want to see your face while you’re thinking about me.”

“You used me to get off with your fucking boyfriend. Do you have any idea how much that bothers me?” He growls, leaning over me against the wall. I swallow, looking from those passionate eyes to his full lips and back. “Bothers you?!” He glares at me, through me, seething at the memory of Patrick touching me. He’s jealous.

He leans in closer with a dark look in his greenish eyes, using a hand to brush my hair behind my ear, making me feel the heat of his touch before he brushes his lips against the shell of my ear. “I just wonder if even after you’re married, you’ll still need to think of me to get off.”

“Yeah? Show me how much you fucking hate me,” he grimaces, grabbing the loopholes of my jeans and pulling me so I slip down, my back now on the seat.

“Goddammit Cole, you drive me fucking mad!” He pulls at the roots of his hair, dragging his hands down his face.

“You know you need this. I know you do because I need it too.” He presses himself back on me and begins kissing the side of my neck.

He presses his mouth to mine, and I wince in pain. It’s a pain of knowing he’s what I need. I’m in total denial and losing the fight with each second that passes. “Kiss me, dammit,” he says against my mouth before plunging his tongue between my lips.

“Lie to me, Cole. Tell me you hate me.” A deep groan leaves his throat, staring down while pulling almost all the way out of me, leaving just the tip of him inside.

My hand grips the wet shirt on his back, clawing for it, needing what he’s taking away. I hate how much I need him. I hate how he drives me wild with passion. I hate that somewhere, some deep place inside of me, wasn’t fulfilled until him.

“Oh, fuck,” he rasps, pressing most of his weight on me against the back seat of the car.

“Tell me you missed this,” he says in a pleading tone that almost makes my heart ache. I know how much he needed me, just by the way his eyes are barring through my soul.

“Fuck, I need you.” He groans before he presses his lips firmly against mine.

But, I can’t deny what I’m feeling anymore. He’s forced me to face it and there’s no going back. I reach up, grabbing the back of his hair, and pull his face to mine. I want more. I need more. He’s the drug I never knew I needed. The high I never want to come down from. I’ve fallen. Deeply, irreversibly so.

And we kiss. We kiss while still connected. We kiss until our lips are swollen and used. His hands gently cup my face, memorizing the curve of my cheekbones, the feeling of my nose against his, the angle of my jaw.

“Cole, don’t. You’re so beautiful,” he whispers before running a hand from the side of my neck down my chest, his arm between my breasts, and placing his palm directly over my heart.

“Every second with you makes me need another,” he says, as if he’s pained by the thought.

“This is how it was supposed to be,” he says between kisses. “You in my arms, me, deep inside you.”

“Fuck, you feel like nothing I’ve ever felt.” He groans, grabbing the flesh of my backside in his large hands, roughly pulling me down onto him.

“Yeah, baby, let go.” He groans, tightening his jaw as he watches me lose control.

“You’re killing me, Cole,” he says, finally pulling away from my lips, earning a grin of admiration from me. “There are no fucking words.”

I admire the collection before me, a man with his story written on his skin, only the lucky ones who get to read his pages.

“Fuck,” he says breathlessly, pressing his erection into me, lifting the edge of my shirt, and finding the skin above my hip.