Page 17 of Hide From Me (Chaotic Love #3)

I want to give her every scar, every fracture of who I am. But not now. Not when she won’t let me give her more than this.

I release her jaw to grip her thighs and spread them wider, pounding into her like I need to fuck the ache out of me. It's rough, hard, fast, raw, and everything I didn't want it to be tonight.

Her cries rise, echoing off the hilltop,

“That’s it,” I groan. “Grab the table. Fuck back into me.”

She does—like if somehow obeying my command is giving her more power than me.

“It’s a good thing you know how to listen,” I pant, “since you don’t know how to shut your mouth.”

Her eyes lock on mine, and fuck—it breaks me. She looks at me like I'm more than some monster in her story, but she won't let me love her like she's my happy ending.

“I was going to make it feel so good,” I suck in a harsh breath and my nails dig the supple flesh of her thigh hard enough the skin along my knuckles strain but I can’t bring myself to care as the heat begins to build in my abdomen and my hips stutter, “I was going to be easy—make you love every fucking second—but you just had to go and ruin the moment.”

“Ruin me, baby.” Raylen chokes through shallow breaths. God fucking damn it . I whimper. I fucking whimper at the words that fall from her mouth—at the damn pet name she turns against me.

“Look at me,” I choke out, hips slamming against her thighs. “Watch me destroy your perfect little cunt since you won’t let me worship it.”

I shift, knee bracing the bench, hips pounding into her. Her eyes screw shut still deliberately disobeying my command as her jaw goes slack.

“I’m gonna come, Moe. It’s right—” She clenches down so hard I swear she’s trying to rip me apart.

“Then fuckin’ do it, sunshine. And get used to it because it’s the only dick you’ll be coming around for as long as I have you,” I growl, leaning closer, letting my breath mingle with hers as her eyes cross and her jaw slackens, releasing a hoarse cry.

If I weren’t so dead set on proving a point, I’d fill her so full of my come right now that there’d be no doubt who she belongs to, but as much as I’m a selfish man, I’m also a stubborn one.

Steadying my breathing, I let her ride out her orgasm.

Each flutter of her walls teases my cock with the need to let go.

“I’m on birth control.” She pants, her lashes fluttering to try and focus on my gaze. “Please…”

I wouldn’t give a fuck if she weren’t to be completely honest.

“You don’t get my come tonight.” I groan and go to pull out, but she tries to lock her legs around me. I swear that’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever had a woman do, and it’s her doing it.

“Please, I want—“

“Move them,” I order, cutting her off because if she says the words, there’s no way I’ll be able to deny her. Her eyes flicker between mine almost pleadingly as each heavy breath she takes trembles her body. “Now.”

Her whole body jerks with how fast she unclings from my body with wide eyes and her breathing shallow. I can’t help but grunt. If she can’t let me show her how much she means to me, then she doesn’t get to know what it’s like to have me dripping out of her yet.

I pull out just in time and turn, jerking myself to the edge of the hill as I come with a shudder, painting the grass below with every drop of what she almost owned.

With heavy breaths, I swallow hard and slip back up my pants. My whole body buzzes from the overstimulation of my boxers grazing my sensitive skin, making me nearly hiss from the feeling.

It really is beautiful from up here, but it’s also a torturous reminder that not everyone can have the best of both worlds.

“That's odd,” Raylen murmurs from behind me, and my shoulders tense momentarily, only for me to force them to relax again.

“You okay, baby?” I ask as I work to pick up her clothes. Once they're gathered, I finally have enough balls to look at her sitting up, arms wrapped around her stomach, legs crossed, body tense.

“This bench looks old, but there’s not a scratch, ring, or mark on it.

” She speaks softly, ignoring my question.

I step closer, appreciating the unguarded expression on her face at this moment.

There’s no worried crease or deep contemplation in her features.

It reminds me of the first time I saw her, completely unaware of the events unfolding that day—just wiping at that stupid ring.

“Arms up,” I say, trying to suppress the amusement in my voice.

As I help her slip on her bra, I bring our faces close together, but I’m not dumb enough to try kissing her again.

I’ve learned my lesson; it’s going to take more than just one date, where I tell her about myself, for her to truly let me in.

“Does anyone else come out here?” My little ray of sunshine prods, tilting her head to catch my attention. I place a finger under her chin to guide her back upright and trace it gently across her cheek to tuck a strand of her wild, red-streaked hair behind her ear.

“No, only me.”

“So, do you even use this thing? Or do you just not bring drinks or anything out here?”

I shake my head, my grin growing wider. I wish I understood her fascination with clean surfaces, but maybe that’s a question for another time.

“I use it,” I mutter with a nod as I help her adjust her crop top, then shift to my knees to slip her legs through her shorts.

“You are impossible! Don’t you understand, I need to know why it’s so clean?” She huffs, playfully swatting my head. But I catch her wrist gently before she can pull her hand away.

“I came out here and cleaned it when I brought the stuff–before I picked you up.”

Her brows furrow in confusion, but it’s not at my statement. My expression falls as her free hand rises, and the pads of her fingers lightly graze my broken knuckles.

The touch is so soothing and gentle that I almost believe she has the power to erase the painful memories etched into my skin.

Clearing my throat, I pull away and start to adjust her shorts. “I didn’t want you to focus on the ring marks my drinks left on it in the past.”

“I wouldn’t have judged you for being a slob this time,” she replies.

This little liar. She would’ve definitely called me a monster and probably labeled me a slob as well. But I don’t call her out on it.

“I wanted all your attention on me,” I admit quietly.