Page 46 of Hide From Me (Chaotic Love #3)

Her breath catches—subtle, but audible. Her chest rises in slow, deeper pulls like she’s trying to breathe around something bigger than air and her thighs shift slightly beneath my touch, like her body’s responding before her mind has caught up.

“And maybe…” I continue, locking eyes with her, not flinching, not blinking, “Maybe it helps me too. Because when you’re on top of me—when you’re ch oosing me—I don’t feel like my DNA is some fucking death sentence.

I feel like I’m more. Like maybe I can actually do something right and not lose a piece of myself with it. ”

Raylen swears under her breath as she sits up, legs curling beneath her like a spring coiling tight, her eyes dark and burning straight through every layer I’ve spent years hiding behind. There’s no hesitation in the way she moves now—only choice.

“Take your shirt off.”

I yank it over my head without breaking eye contact, my body humming under the weight of her gaze. I don’t care how exposed I feel—I want her to see all of me. Every scar. Every muscle drawn tight with restraint. Every inch of my skin she owns already.

She leans in, her palms pressing flat against my chest, and pushes. I let her guide me back until I’m lying at the foot of the bed, elbows catching behind me as I prop myself up, muscles flexing, spine tense with anticipation.

She straddles my thighs, still fully clothed, and I swear to God, she’s never looked more dangerous. Her eyes are deliberate as they trace over me. Her movements are calculated as she shifts to get comfortable. She’s not just taking control—she’s reclaiming it.

Her fingers drift down the center of my chest, drawing heat in their wake, until they find the waistband of my pants. The moment her knuckles brush over my lower stomach, and my body goes still as stone.

“You won’t move unless I tell you to?” she whispers.

“No, ma’am.” I grin.

She hums, the sound low and pleased, like she’s tasting power and liking how it settles on her tongue. Then she leans in, lips grazing just beneath my jaw—a kiss, a claim.

“Good.”

Her hands are slow but unshaking as she undoes my button, then drags the zipper down with a careful, deliberate flick. The brush of her fingers over my length, even through my boxers, makes my jaw lock tight. I don’t thrust. I don’t beg. I fucking wait.

And waiting has never felt more brutal.

She pushes the fabric down and lets my cock spring free, already painfully hard, already leaking from the pressure I’ve been holding back since she danced in front of someone else like it didn’t fucking gut me.

“Jesus,” she mutters, wrapping one hand around the base like she’s testing the weight of something dangerous. She pumps once. Slow. Lazy. Deliberate .

“You really weren’t kidding.”

I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood and my fists clench at my sides until my knuckles turn white against the sheets.

“You’re gonna keep your hands to yourself?” she taunts.

“Unless you beg me to use them.” I tease.

Her lips curve into something wicked and divine, and then she backs herself between my legs, hair falling around her face like a curtain of silk. I feel her breath first—warm, teasing—before her tongue flicks out and drags from the base to the crown in one long, slow lick.

I hiss, my body jerking on instinct. But I don’t move. Not really. Not where it counts.

“Good boy,” she whispers.

Fuck me —I nearly come undone from just those two words.

My lips part but I'm instantly cut off from any coherent thought I could have formed as her mouth wraps around me.

Hot. Wet. Perfect.

She sinks down slowly until I hit the back of her throat, and I swear I see God.

"Fuck, Ray…" My voice cracks like dry wood, hips straining for release, but I force myself to stay rooted.

She pulls off slowly, saliva catching at the corners of her mouth, chin wet, eyes locked on mine .

“You like this?” she asks, voice rough, throat tight. “Letting me do whatever I want?”

“I’d let you ruin me.”

Her nails dig into my thighs like she’s anchoring me, then she goes down again. Harder. Faster. Sucking like she’s trying to strip away every last defense I have left.

I pant through my teeth, jaw clenched, arms trembling with the effort it takes to stay out of control. I want to grab her hair. I want to fuck her throat like I’ve dreamed of a hundred sleepless nights. But I don’t.

I let her take.

Because she deserves it.

Because I need to be worth being taken from.

She pulls back again, flicking her tongue over the slit to catch the precum, and moans like she likes the taste of me—like it’s hers.

“Say it again,” she breathes, one hand stroking me slow and tight.

“Say what?”

“That you’d let me ruin you.”

I don’t hesitate.

“I’d let you bury me,” I growl. “Let you fucking carve me open and take what you want.”

Her lips wrap around me again, and this time I moan—loud and raw. I’m close. So close it aches. Every muscle in my body’s tight, trembling, strung out on the edge of her mercy.

“Not yet,” her words come muffled as she pulls off with a lick “I’m not done.”

She crawls up my body like a storm rolling in—slow, commanding, inevitable–until she’s straddling my waist, hands planted firm on my chest. I swear I’ve never seen anything more powerful than her sitting above me, flushed and focused, with all of me at her mercy.

I want to flip her. Pin her down. Bury myself inside her until we both forget what pain tastes like.

Her fingers trail down my chest again, raking her nails over my abs lightly, and my cock jerks against the soft fabric of her shorts. She’s soaked. I can feel the heat of her slick through them, and it’s fucking killing me.

“I don’t want it soft,” she says, barely audible like she’s afraid the words will break her.

I blink up at her. “Say that again?”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.” Her jaw sets, eyes flicking away for a beat before locking on mine again. “Not tonight. I want to take it back. I want to choose it. I want to feel it.”

God fucking help me.

I push up onto my elbows, “Raylen, are you—”

She yanks her shirt over her head like she’s ripping off fear. No bra. Nothing underneath. Her nipples pebble in the cool air, or maybe from the way I can’t stop staring.

“You said I could take what I want.”

“Yeah,” I breathe, voice shot to hell. “I did.”

She climbs off me just long enough to kick her shorts and panties off in one practiced move, her skin flushed, thighs slick with arousal.

She’s breathtaking.

“Then shut the fuck up, monster,” she says, voice shaking but strong. “And let me ride you.”

I groan so loud it might shake the fucking walls.

She climbs back on and my cock twitches, trapped between us. She reaches down, wrapping her hand around the base, guiding me to her entrance.

The heat of her is unreal.

She’s wet. Hot. Gripping me before I’m even inside.

“Jesus,” I choke as she sinks down, slow and fucking torturous. Inch by inch, she takes me, stretches around me, and I have to bite down on my own tongue not to cry out .

“You’re so—”

“Don’t talk,” she whispers, lips brushing the corner of my mouth. “Just feel.”

I groan like a man on fire.

Her hands press into my chest for balance as she starts to move. At first it’s tentative—testing the stretch, adjusting—but then she finds her rhythm, and it’s everything.

She rides me like she’s erasing the past. Like she’s claiming every part of me, every inch I’ve kept hidden. Her head tips back, short hair cascading in messy waves, lips parted, breath catching with every grind.

Her body’s electric—wet, pulsing, demanding.

She moves like she owns me.

Because she does.

“Moe…” she gasps, hips stuttering. “Fuck— I’m so close—”

“You’ve got me, Ray. Take what you need. I’m right here.” I pant, holding on by a thread.

Her whole body clenches, her thighs trembling as her orgasm slams through her. She cries out, raw and real, riding it out while I shake beneath her, every nerve ending lit up.

I can’t hold back anymore.

I grab her hips, slam up into her—once, twice, three brutal thrusts—and I come so hard I feel myself unravel. Like everything I am spills out into her.

She collapses on top of me, both of us spent, breathing like we just survived something bigger than either of us knows how to name and for a long moment, we say nothing.

We just breathe .

“I thought you’d ruin me, sunshine… but you didn’t.” I run my fingers through her hair and murmur into it, voice soft and full of something I’ve never said out loud before.

She lifts her head just enough to meet my eyes, and I see something flash in hers—something vulnerable and terrified and pure.

I trace down to her jaw, letting my fingers glide over the flushed skin.

“You saved me.”