Page 34 of Ruining Hattie

HATTIE

I thought I would be more nervous as Bastion leads me by the hand to his bedroom. But it’s only excitement and anticipation swirling inside me. When we’re inside the room, he turns the lights on, but only enough that we can see each other.

The look he gives me as he slips off his suit jacket and tie, laying them across the long, padded bench at the end of the bed, makes my knees wobble. It’s full of promise and all the wicked things he plans to do to me.

There may have been a time when that would have intimidated or even frightened me, but now I look forward to discovering this side of me—with him.

“Your turn.” He nods at me as he slips out of his shoes and socks.

“I could use some help with my zipper.”

He chuckles as he pads toward me, as though he knows I need no help at all. It’s true, I can undo the side zipper myself, but I want his hands on me.

Bastion stands in front of me, and I move my arm away from my side so that he can slide his hand underneath and slowly slide down the zipper.

When the zipper is at the bottom, he leans in and kisses my collarbone as his hand strokes my shoulder, sliding the strap down my arm until the dress rests at my waist.

I didn’t wear a bra, so my breasts are bare to him, nipples peaked, begging for his attention. I’m desperate for him to touch them tonight.

He takes half a step back, his eyes glazed with lust, then runs the backs of his index and middle fingers down the curve at the side of my breast. “You’re like a fucking goddess, so perfect.”

He bends down and lifts my breast to his mouth, enveloping the nipple and swirling his tongue around the rigid peak.

I gasp, and my hands fly to the back of his head, lacing my fingers through his thick hair to hold him there.

The sensation runs straight from my nipple down between my legs, and it’s almost as though he has me spread on the kitchen island again with his mouth on my clit.

Each pull against my nipple is a pull between my legs.

His free hand takes the weight of my breast in his hand, and he thumbs my nipple. I arch into him, wanting more, and when he pinches the taut bud, I gasp and grip his hair harder. He bites down on my nipple, and the lash of pain melts into a warm sensation as his tongue swipes over it.

Bastion pulls back and takes me in, his eyes darker than normal, more like a stormy sky.

Then he grips my dress at the end of the zipper and rips it apart by the seam until the fabric is discarded on the floor.

The act of aggression heightens some primal instinct in me, and when he bends at the waist and hoists me up over his shoulder, I don’t fight him.

One hand holds my legs, and the other is splayed across my ass since I wore a thong to avoid panty lines.

He sets me on my feet near the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the city and the water.

With his fingers on my cheek and his thumb on my chin, he brings me in for a kiss.

It’s slow and languid, the opposite of how I feel right now—charged up and ready to go—but I follow his lead.

“If we’re going to do this, I need to get you ready, Hattie. I don’t want to hurt you.” He trails his nose over my shoulder and up my neck.

I think back to the size of him in my palm and how long it’s been since I had sex. God, he’s right.

“How are you going to do that?” I ask, feeling a little foolish, as though I should already know the answer.

In response, he spins me around so I face the glass.

I’m aware that though I can’t see anyone specifically, there are other buildings around that can likely see in here.

Old me would have shirked away from being bare to the world, but the idea that someone might be watching, that someone could possibly see us but I would never know, only sends a triple shot of lust through my veins.

Bastion slowly lowers my thong to the floor, bending down onto his haunches behind me. I’m still wearing my shoes, but he doesn’t remove them.

As he stands, his palms glide up either side of my legs, then my hips, and last my ribs.

With my back to his chest, he nudges against me, forcing me to walk forward until I’m flush against the glass, pressing my breasts against the cool surface.

I shudder when Bastion’s hard length pierces me from behind and he clasps my wrists, drawing my hands up over my head.

“Do you think anyone’s watching?” he whispers in my ear. Goose bumps scatter along my neck.

“I… I don’t know.”

“What do you think they see?”

I close my eyes, and my forehead drops to the glass, picturing what we might look like with me naked and him pressed against me from behind, still clothed. I stifle a groan.

“Do you think they’re jealous of me?” He chuckles, and the vibration from deep in his chest hits my back.

“I know they are, because I’m the lucky son of a bitch who knows what you taste like.

Who knows how glorious you look when you come.

And soon, it will be my fat cock shoved inside you, making you see stars. ”

“Please, Bastion.” My knees give out, and I slide an inch down the glass. I’m losing all strength and willpower, soon to sink into a puddle of lust, but Bastion holds me flush to the glass. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

His hand slips between my legs, and he groans, finding me wet and ready for him. “Arch your hips for me, babe.”

I do as he asks, and he rims my entrance with his finger before inching it inside me. It’s not like last time, though, when he barely entered me. This time, he doesn’t stop until he’s all the way in, and I clench around his finger, gasping.

“Fuck.” He bites my shoulder. “You’re so tight.”

Bastion’s finger slips out, and he gently pushes it back inside over and over until I’m panting and begging for more. Somehow, he knows, because he adds another finger inside me, slowly pushing in and out, in and out again until I grow used to it and the resistance decreases.

His forehead falls to my upper back, and he groans, holding his fingers still for a moment. “Fuck, babe, you’re so tight, so fucking wet. I can’t wait to be inside you and claim you as mine.”

The word “mine” does something to me. It’s as though a wild animal comes alive in my chest, clawing to get free, and I say things I could never have imagined coming out of my mouth a month ago.

“Fuck me, Bastion. Please don’t make me wait any longer. Make me yours.”

He growls against my heated skin and moves his fingers again, rougher this time.

His rhythm causes me to move up and down the glass, my nipples dragging back and forth.

The friction feels so good that I don’t ever want him to stop.

I want to stay here all night and have him show me what my body desires.

I lower my hands from over my head to down beside my shoulders, and I fist them against the glass, looking at the night sky and sparkling lights below. Picturing what others see, what we might look like, makes me clench, and he must feel it because he groans again behind me.

Bastion’s other hand circles around my waist and dips down until he’s circling my clit. When he scissors his fingers inside me, I cry out, all the pent-up pleasure fighting to be released.

I push back into his hands, needing more, never wanting it to end, and he adds a third finger. “Oh my god!”

The sound of him moving in and out of me fills the room along with our panting, and it only brings me closer to the brink.

“Fuck, woman. What are you doing to me?” There’s pain laced in his voice.

I can’t give him an answer. No way I could form a coherent sentence right now. I’m rocketing toward my orgasm, and it’s going to be more powerful than all of them.

“Are you ready for me, Hattie? You ready for me to ruin you?”

Finally. “Yes, please, yes.”

“You want me to fill you up?”

“Yes!”

“You want to see yourself stretch around my thick cock?”

“Oh, god.” I moan, envisioning what we’re about to do.

Bastion pinches my clit, and it’s like the trigger for an atomic bomb—I explode.

There’s no awareness of what I do or what I say, just a spiraling pleasure until I’m ricocheted back into my body, sweating and panting and leaning against the glass.

Bastion spins me around, and his mouth is on mine, owning me, and all I can do is follow his lead. I realize with a startling clarity that I’ll follow this man to the edge of the world.

He dips down and lifts me with his hands on both thighs until I’m straddling his waist and he’s walking me toward the bed. Then I’m on the mattress, crawling backward toward the middle, while he removes his shirt and slacks.

Once he’s naked, he strokes himself as he stares at me, and I’m so greedy for him that all I can think is that I want my hand on his cock.

He must be able to read my mind because he says, “You’ll get your turn later.”

Bastion crawls across the mattress until he hovers over me, letting some of his weight drop onto me, but not all. Our eyes meet as he dips his head to kiss me. There’s so much in his kiss that I don’t know what to make of it. It feels like a confession of sorts, but of what, I don’t know.

I open my legs to make room for him, and his hips slip between my thighs as he kisses down the side of my neck.

“Show me what this can be, Bast, please.”

He straightens to lock his gaze with mine. “You called me Bast.”

I draw back, unsure why, but it just came out. “I’m sorry, I?—”

He crashes his lips to mine again, but he ends it too soon. When he draws back, he says, “Only those closest to me call me Bast. Never call me Bastion again. Promise?”

I nod, my heart swelling.

Bast takes my lips again. Within minutes, I’m writhing underneath him, desperate for more, for all of him. The hard length of him pressing against me is a constant reminder of what I’m missing.

“Please don’t make me wait any longer,” I say against his lips.

“Let me get a condom,” he says.

I want to cry out when he rolls off of me to go to the top drawer of his nightstand. His hand darts around inside it for a moment, then he pulls out an open box of condoms, and my brain makes note.

But I can’t think about other women right now. Can’t think about what number I am to him. Tonight, it’s only us.

He reaches for something else, but I only see a flash of hot pink.

Then Bastion takes a condom from the box and tosses the box back in the drawer, bringing the package to his mouth and ripping it open.

I’m not sure why, but watching him roll the condom down his length is so hot, my heart beats even faster.

He comes back over me, and I spread my thighs, inviting him in. “You ready for me, Hattie?”

I bite my lip and nod.

Holding the base, he notches the head at my entrance, pushing in slowly.

He’s big. Definitely bigger than Rich was, though it wasn’t as if I didn’t already know that.

He’s a couple inches in when he groans, his forehead dropping to meet mine. “Fuck, babe, I need a minute.”

Pleasure spreads through my body like a spiderweb. I’m doing this to him. Not some super-experienced sex kitten, but me, innocent Hattie, who has only been with one other man.

My hands clutch his shoulders before I bring them around to his back, digging my nails up. I bring my mouth to his ear and whisper, “Fuck me, Bast.”

And my words do the trick. He loses control and pushes all the way in, claiming me as his, and I’ve never been happier.