Page 32 of Wicked Ends (Hellions of Hade Harbor #4)

He filled that empty place, warming me from the inside out.

He cupped my face and kissed me when he was sunk deep, his balls against my ass.

His long, thick dick was stretching me, pressing so far inside, it should have hurt.

It would have hurt, had it been anyone else, but this man was different.

A man who made my body so elastic and pliable.

A man who melted away my resistance and my discipline and my fucking good intentions into a putty for him to play with between his talented fingers.

“You’re not wearing protection?” I panted, dangerously close to falling over the edge again and coming embarrassingly fast.

“I’m clean, Professor. I don’t fuck raw—never have—and we test for everything under the sun every season, thanks to Coach.”

“You’re fucking raw right now!” I cried, my toes curling with the way his cock seemed to brush something deep inside that sent heat flooding through me.

“Yeah, but it’s different.” Marcus gave me a heart-stopping grin. “It’s you.”

His comment sparked a rush of butterflies in my stomach.

Focus, Ari!

“You’re lucky I have an implant,” I panted.

“Didn’t ask,” Marcus growled out, changing the angle enough to send new pleasure spiraling through me.

My clit was so sensitive from coming around his mouth, every time his hip bones ground down on me, it nearly made me come all over again. I was an unexploded firework next to a burning match.

“But you must have wondered,” I heard myself say. “Now, you don’t have to worry.”

“I wasn’t and I won’t,” he muttered and kissed my neck. He ran his tongue upward and bit my ear. “I’m going to come inside of you until you smell like me, and you’re not going to wash me off… I’ll know if you do,” he whispered.

With that filthy comment, he abandoned my ear and kissed me. Our tongues tangled together. He slammed deep and ground himself against me, rubbing my clit and hitting that place inside me that made me see stars. I clenched all around, my body, my pussy… my fucking heart.

I came, his name on my lips and his cock deep, and he followed.

“Oh fuck yes! I’m coming!” Marcus growled.

His cum was hot, wet and slippery, and so fucking good.

He thrust into me through the entire peak, dragging my orgasm out and staying hard the entire time, like he could turn me over and fuck me all over again.

Maybe he could. He was a twenty-year-old guy, an athlete in his prime…

he was a machine, and I was the target he was locked onto.

It shouldn’t have turned me on… but it did, and I couldn’t deny it.

He lowered to my side, our legs still tangled up, and pulled me to his chest. His leather jacket felt cool against my overheated face.

His voice was rough when he spoke. “Where’s the bag, Ari?” His arms were wrapped around me, and he held me close like I was something precious.

I swallowed hard. “I’ll tell you when you promise to back off. I’m your teacher?—”

“Only for a few more months,” Marcus interrupted. “You know that, right? The end of the semester is right around the corner.”

I sighed. The professor-and-student dynamic was only one reason why this guy was off-limits.

The other reason, maybe the more real one…

was I couldn’t trust someone, anyone, and especially not someone who made my heart thump so hard.

When you cared about someone, you gave them power over you… and that power could hurt like hell.

“It doesn’t matter. This is the end of all of this. I’m sorry if I led you on, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression…”

His arms tightened around me sharply.

“Stop talking. You’re going to piss me off.” His tone was dark. But then his arms loosened, and he was holding me tenderly again. “You’re hiding behind the rules and moral outrage because then you don’t have to admit that you love this, like I do.” His voice was gentler than I’d ever heard it.

I didn’t have a chance to respond before his cell rang again.

“Motherfuckers,” he grumbled and got up.

I shifted to the cold side of the bed. He answered.

He only listened for a second, his entire body stiffening, before he turned to look at me.

He still had his phone clamped to his ear when his eyes hit mine, and then he nodded once and spoke in low tones to the caller, so low I couldn’t make out what he was saying.

He picked up his helmet, the phone still perched at his ear.

Worry was etched in his eyes. For the very first time, all teasing was gone from his face.

It looked wrong somehow. He bent down and grabbed the gun off the floor, tucking it into his waistband with a confidence that told me this wasn’t his first time carrying a weapon.

He pulled his T-shirt over the butt of the gun to hide it.

Then he leaned in, held the back of my head with his free hand, and tugged my face to his.

His kiss was rough and dominant, allowing no arguments. It was over too quickly.

He drew back. “I’m on my way,” he said into the phone.

And before I could ask him what had happened, he turned on his heel and left.