Page 54 of Screwed

But there was a different look in his eyes now. He looked desperate, like a wounded animal. His fingers dug deep into the flesh of my ass, and my lower body was practically hovering off the floor as he devoured me. But that look… something about it broke me.

I loosened the hand I kept in his hair and grazed my fingers against his scalp. Nate’s eyes fluttered shut, and he pulled away from my pussy long enough to kiss my inner thigh.

“Come for me again,” he gasped. I couldn’t tell if it was a command or a plea. Maybe both. His eyes flashed as he lowered his mouth once more. “Come for me again, sweetheart. Please.”

My hands gripped the blanket beneath me as his tongue finished me off. My whole body was shaking. It was the type of orgasm that almost left me weeping, held together by pathetic strands of leftover self-respect. And Nate wanted to sever every single one of them.

“That was two,” he murmured, lowering himself over my body.

I dragged him down on top of me, and we began kissing again, my body still spasming against his, but he still wasn’t done. I needed to touch him and to bring him here with me. But when my hands reached for his belt, he stopped me.

“No,” he said firmly. I dropped my wrist, but I couldn’t stop my curiosity. He didn’t look hurt anymore. He looked pissed.

“Why not?” I asked. “I mean, I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, but—”

“You fucked my two best friends on my work site,” he said, his grip on my wrist tightening.

I flinched, not because it was physically painful, but because the words were harsh, yet true. Because I was starting to piece together what that wounded look had been as he ate me out, and why he kept counting down each orgasm he gave me. He was jealous. He wanted to rewrite the sexual history I had with Deacon and Ethan by claiming as much pleasure from me as he could. This was his way of punishing me.

“Nate, I didn’t mean… I…” I trailed off, my head still fuzzy with the after-effects of two back-to-back climaxes. I didn’t know what to say either. What was I apologizing for? He didn’t own me and I didn’t owe him anything.

His face hardened, but the bulge in his jeans was harder.

“If it’s my turn now, we’re going to do things my way. I’m going to make you come three times, Ava, understand that?” he said in his contractor foreman voice, the one that left no room to argue. I wanted to push back on that and to convince him to let me take the reins for a bit, but there was still that tiny hint of vulnerability behind the mask.

So I didn’t. I nodded, moving my hand to cup his face. “Okay. Make me come, Nate.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, leaning into my palm for just a fraction of a second and closing his eyes. When we kissed again, it was much less gentle than before. We shed the remaining clothes we were wearing until we were a tangled mess of naked bodies moving together on the blanket. His touch was no longer slow and temperate, and the grip he had on my hip was definitely going to bruise in the morning, but I didn’t care. I gave back as good as I got, my nails scraping down his back and my teeth nipping his neck whenever I got the chance.

He rolled us over so that I was on top of him, but he didn’t give up his control. We ground against each other, both panting until I finally settled over his cock. There was a brief moment when our eyes met. There was too much to say, but I felt his anger and the hint of fear that we were about to officially terminate our old relationship as we knew it. The sweat and rain stuck his dark hair to his forehead, and he looked exactly like the timid, lanky boy I remembered from way back when.

“Nate.” I couldn’t say anything else, and yet it seemed to get the point across. His thumbs traced small circles on my sides. I sank down and my head tipped back at the feeling.

Holy shit, he was big.

Deacon and Ethan were not small at all, but his girth…

The Nate thing to do would’ve been to hesitate when he saw the mix of pleasure and pain on my face. But whatever state of mind he was in now, it wasn’t the old him at all. He grabbed my hips.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I choked out.

“You said you didn’t want me gentle, didn’t you?” He thrust up once, holding the bulk of my weight. I made a strangled sound in the back of my throat. “Wasn’t that what you wanted, Ava?”

“Yes, I—”

He gave a little grind, and my vision blurred. I had no idea what sound came out of my mouth after that or what my face looked like, but if there was one thing that Nate knew how to do, it was read a damn blueprint. When he found that spot, he thrust hard, his rhythm fixed to a pace that sapped whatever strength I had left in my body.

The pain I felt soon melted into the most exquisite fire. I cried out, and he held me right against his chest as he growled into my neck. “This is what you wanted, huh?”

I couldn’t answer.

I was on the verge of that final orgasm, and it felt like every muscle in my body was coiled to spring.

So this was how Nate Kavanaugh fucked. With precision and all the passion he kept hidden behind that stoic mask of his, day in and day out. Or maybe this was just for me. Maybe that was his way of dealing with the mess between us, and damn, it was better than anything I could’ve dreamt up. He was the superior problem-solver.

“So good,” I gasped, my fingers digging into his back hard enough to draw blood. “You feel so good. Nate.”