Mania (Fever Dreams Collection #1)

7. Hazel

Chapter 7

Hazel

Soft, plush lips near mine.

Hot breath fanning over my cheeks and face.

Hungry hand traveling down, down, down.

I snap my eyes open, snatching Maeve’s wrist before she reaches my quickly hardening cock. Her face is cloaked in darkness, backlit by the moonlight filtering through the windows, gaze half-lidded while her body writhes against mine.

“Kiss me,” she breathes. She tries to pull herself out of my grasp and I let her, her hand now pulling my face toward hers. “Kiss me. Please .”

This is a dream. It must be. I’ve ached for this for far too long.

How many nights did I spend pleading, begging for It to let me have this?

Then, Maeve appeared like an answered prayer.

Her touch all-consuming. Life-giving.

I barely hesitate. Barely consider the morals or the fact that I might be taking advantage of her when she’s clearly still distraught. Not when she’s begging for me like this.

I catch her lips with mine, my hands grabbing her face as I kiss her deeply and with all the desperation I’ve accumulated inside of me. A burning well of ache and need. A chasm of churning and untapped desire.

Until now.

I whimper into her mouth, and she devours it. My hips are just as hungry, grinding against hers, the feeling of her lips on mine depraved and divine.

I am a man obsessed. And my obsession has a name.

Pushing her onto her back, I press Maeve against the bed. My body is halfway over hers as I let go of her face so I can allow my fingers to dig into her supple flesh. My hand travels down to her hips until I feel the rough material of her jean shorts.

I growl into her mouth, affronted by the clothes keeping her naked body from me. “Get those off before I ruin them,” I rasp.

I don’t give her a chance to unclasp even a single button as I get onto my knees. Doing it myself, I tug her shorts off with hungry jerks of my hands. She helps by raising her hips while pulling her tank top over her head and throwing it into a dark corner of the bedroom.

The only thing left on her succulent body is a pair of black panties and a white bra. I stay on my knees, mindlessly palming my cock over my briefs as I survey her, her chest rising up and down with heated breaths. “Don’t stop,” she pleads, moving up on her elbows so she can grab me by the back of the neck, pulling me back on top of her.

I smile against her lips as her legs circle my hips, my fingers finding her nape, fisting some of her hair into my grip. “I wouldn’t dare stop, dream girl,” I groan between feverish kisses as my other hand cups one of her breasts over her bra, undulating my hips and grinding my hard length over her cotton-clad cunt .

Our movements only seem to intensify in urgency.

Her hands explore my body just as I’m exploring hers. I bite her lip as she digs her nails into my back and I wish I could dare draw blood and taste her completely.

Taste her at the very core of her essence.

Her moans turn eager. Sharper.

Resting on one elbow, I lean onto my side next to her and grab her hand. I wrap her palm around my cock over my briefs, hissing at the sensation. I was convinced I would never feel this again. The passing of the years only made me that much more desperate. My balls tighten with burning lust, carnal and bottomless.

“Feel it,” I whisper hoarsely, shunting my hips harder into her palm so that my cock burns into her open hand. Her sharp inhale only fuels my crazed desire. “Tell me how much you want this.” I barely recognize my voice. There’s a hard grit to my tone, and it’s nowhere close to the gentleman I claim to be.

I kiss down her neck.

“ Hazel ,” she whimpers and I’m cracked open. I shove her panties down her thighs before flattening my tongue against my fingers, but there’s no need. “You’re soaked,” I groan almost to myself.

My darkened gaze is now locked onto hers as I slide two fingers to her entrance, slowly pushing them into her pussy and then separating them wide, stretching her open. Her back arches, her mouth falling agape. “Imagine now, how much better it would feel if it was my cock stretching you open, dream girl.”

“Oh my god,” she says mindlessly. “Hazel,” she repeats, “ Please . I need it.” Her voice sounds feverish, but somewhat distant as if recalling something else. Her fingers slip into my briefs and wrap around my shaft. My mind empties.

I tug my briefs off, doing the same with hers.

“Take off your bra — now .”

She does what I say, her eyes glued to mine, but when her heavy breasts are freed, I rip my gaze from hers, needing to study them, to ingrain them into memory.

I climb over her, my mouth catching her peaked nipple as I push her legs open and fist my cock with ardor. One of her hands grips my nape while the other rakes through my short hair, her soft moans urging me on.

As soon as I feel the tip of my cock slide through the slick of her desire, I moan into her skin, undone by the feel of her. The feel of us .

I tip my head down so I can watch her cunt swallow the head of my cock, my body shaking with restraint, somehow desperate to savor this moment. Savor Maeve entirely.

Her nails dig divots into the skin of my arm, but I’m still watching the masterpiece of us joining together.

“Hurry,” she urges, “Fuck me so I can forget.”

Her words catch my attention, and I lift my gaze to find her eyes closed, seemingly lost somewhere in her mind.

“What did you say?” I grit out, trying to control myself, my cock still throbbing painfully in my fist.

I don’t know why I ask.

I don’t know why it matters, but I regret it instantly.

The air shifts.

The tension breaks.

And Maeve slowly opens her eyes as if looking at me for the first time since she woke me up.

We both grow still.

And while I’m still halfway inside her, she whispers, “We shouldn’t be doing this … I — I barely know you.”

I have half a mind to push all the way in before pulling out just so I can experience the feeling of having Maeve completely. To give in to one single thrust before reverting back into the gentleman I hate to be.

But I resist the urge. I rob myself of the pleasure—the feeling much too intimate—and pull out before falling onto my back beside her with a long defeated sigh.

“I’m sorry,” she says timidly into the crackling silence between us.

I find her hand in the dark, placing it on my heaving chest. “Don’t be,” I reassure her. I squeeze her fingers, and she squeezes back. I don’t tell her that this is just the beginning. Now that I’ve had a taste, I will make her mine no matter her defiance.

She’s not leaving the Ambrose Hotel.

I will have her.

Again and again and again.

I let the silence settle between us before finally turning to my side and pulling her back into my front. “You should rest, dream girl.”

I feel her settle into my arms without another word as I softly stroke her thigh with the pads of my fingers. She falls asleep and eventually, I do too with the promise that soon … I will claim her and hopefully tether her to me forever.