Unleashing Hound

by Harley Stone

  Her touch felt too good, and it had been too long since a woman had shown this much interest in me. And, of course, she was inebriated. Reinforcing my resolve, I stepped back, breaking the contact.

  Her hand fell to her side, and she frowned at me. “Felt like you were enjoying that. Why did you make me stop?”

  “You’re drunk.”

  She let out a frustrated breath. “Such a fucking good guy.”

  She always seemed to make that virtue sound like a curse. Turning her back to me, she climbed into bed, giving me another mouth-watering view of her perfect ass.

  I swore under my breath, both cursing and thanking my morals and her drunkenness for keeping me from doing something I’d regret.

  “Will you at least hang out for a while?” she asked, patting the bed beside her.

  There was nothing in the world I wanted more than to be in that bed with her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ll behave. You can stay dressed, and you don’t even have to get under the covers. I just…” All the mischievous humor fled from her eyes as her expression sobered, making me wonder how drunk she was, after all. “I could use a friend right now.”

  Mila had already proven she could act, and I was probably setting myself up for failure, but I couldn’t resist her plea. Besides, I, too, could use a friend, and the idea of returning to my bed alone didn’t appeal to me at all. Resigned to endure a night of torture, I kicked off my boots and removed my cut before climbing on top of the blankets beside her. As I turned to face her, she scooted closer, putting her back against my front and settling my arm around her waist. I resisted the urge to reach for her tits.

  “Promise you won’t leave?” she asked, her voice drowsy.

  “You want me to stay like this all night?”

  “Yep.”

  The woman was going to kill me. “Okay. I promise, as long as you answer a question for me.”

  “Okay,” she agreed even though she didn’t sound sure.

  “What’s really up with you?”

  “You mean besides probably being responsible for the murder of my best friend and my client?”

  I gave her a squeeze. “Yeah. What’s with the tequila? Why’d you ask me to stay.”

  Moments passed, and I wondered if she’d give me a straight answer. Finally, she sighed. “I’m just a little lonely right now.”

  Her shaky voice punched me square in the chest. I knew lonely. Hell, I’d written the fucking book on it. Maybe Mila and I weren’t so different after all. “Sometimes an adult is the loneliest thing you can be.”

  She grabbed my hand and slid it up to cup her breast. “It doesn’t have to be. Not tonight.”

  Resisting the urge to squeeze, I pulled my hand out of her grasp and settled it back on her waist. “You promised to behave.”

  “Killjoy.” The smile had returned to her voice.

  “I’m not gonna fuck you, Mila. Not when you’re drunk.”

  “What about when I sober up?”

  That was a dangerous question. Tonight felt like progress, but who knew what the morning would bring? “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. See if you still feel the same.”

  A few silent minutes passed before she spoke again. “Thanks, Hound. It feels weird to call you that. What’s your real name?”

  “Carson.”

  “That fits. You look like a Carson.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She patted my hand. “Thanks, Carson. Thanks for being here for me.”

  Her appreciation made me feel good even while my raging hard-on berated me for my stupidity. Having her in my arms was worth the suffering. Even when the little vixen wiggled her ass against me. I had to remind her to behave once again.

  Eventually her breathing evened out and soft snores told me she was out cold. My spine wasn’t happy about my position, but there was no way in hell I was moving. Sporting a serious case of wood with Mila in my arms, I finally drifted off to sleep.

  15

  Mila

  HOUND WAS IN bed with me. As his warm breath tickled my neck and ear, last night’s events played through my mind. I’d chased Levi’s harsh words with tequila. A copious amount of tequila at that. I was having myself a lonely, drunken pity party when Hound showed up looking like a snack. Ever thoughtful, he brought food just in time to keep me from morphing into the worm at the bottom of the bottle.

  I tried to seduce him, but he was annoyingly resistant to my advances.

  “You’re drunk.”

  His eyes had been full of dogged determination when he muttered those words, damning my libido and irritating the hell out of me. I mean, I was drunk, but not fuck-a-loser-and-regret-your-life-choices kind of drunk. No, I’d been more like cast-off-restraints-and-do-the-man-you’ve-been-wanting-to-do drunk. Unfortunately, Hound hadn’t been able to tell the difference.

  He didn’t fuck me, but he stayed. The heat of his hard front pressed against my back, reminding me of his presence. The corresponding heat between my legs made it clear I still wanted him. Of course, after last night’s tequila and water consumption, I needed to use the toilet before I even thought about scratching that itch. And my god, tequila breath was the worst. It didn’t matter that I’d brushed my teeth the previous night, my mouth still tasted like something had crawled in there and died. Like a week ago. I was in danger of burning my own nose hairs if I didn’t do something about it.

  Gently extracting myself from between his arms, I slid out of bed. The change in elevation made my head pound as bile rose in the back of my throat. Thankfully, I had a strong stomach. Swallowing, I fought through the pain and tip-toed across the floor. Putting on my robe and grabbing my toiletry bag, I paused in the doorway and turned back to look at Hound.

  No. Carson.

  A sexy name for a sexy guy. With a day’s worth of beard growth, and wearing jeans and a tight black T-shirt, he was a sight to behold. Silently promising I’d be back to deal with him, I hurried out the door and down the hall to the bathroom to take care of business.

  Bladder empty, teeth brushed, ibuprofen and more water consumed, I returned to find Carson sitting on the edge of the bed, putting on his boots.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, unable to hide my disappointment as I removed my robe and tossed it on the loveseat.

  He looked at me. I hadn’t changed out of the shirt and panties I’d slept in. My appearance was far from decent, and his eyes widened before he quickly looked away. “I should get going.”

  “Why?”

  Cocking his head to the side, he studied me. “Why not?”

  “I’m not drunk anymore.”

  His gaze flickered to the bottle. “How are you not hungover?”

  “I’m a professional. I downed at least ten of those cups of water before you even came up. The secret lies in hydrating.”

  “Drinking pro tip from the third-grade teacher?” There was a question in his eyes.

  “Talk to me after you’ve spent a day trapped in a classroom with third-graders. Trust me, I know all the pro tips.”

  Finished tying his shoe, he sat up. “I should probably go shower and brush my teeth. Maybe we can grab a bite later and talk.”

  I didn’t want to talk, I wanted to fuck. And it felt like he was brushing me off. I couldn’t let that happen. I tugged off my shirt and tossed it aside. “Or, you could stay.” Sure, my approach bordered on desperate, but I needed a physical connection, and was willing to bet he did, too.

  He froze. His gaze swept over my body before darting away again. “W-what are you doing?”

  “You’re lonely, I’m lonely, we have needs we can fulfill for each other.” Reengaging last night’s seduction mode, I sauntered over slowly and dropped to my knees to untie and remove the boots he’d just gone to the trouble of lacing up. He didn’t try to stop me, didn’t move away or protest, so I focused on my task as the heat of his gaze warmed my entire body. Sinc
e men are visual creatures, I took my time removing his boots and socks, letting him get an eyeful of my nakedness.

  His attention was a major turn on, and by the time I finished, my nipples were pebbled, and he had quite the bulge tenting his jeans. I stood, and his gaze followed me. My breasts were inches from his face, but he valiantly forced his attention on my eyes. He really was a good person.

  Thankfully, I wasn’t.

  And I needed this. The adoration in his eyes, the way he clenched his fists to keep from touching me, the sight of his tongue sweeping across his lips in anticipation all made me feel valued while soothing away the verbal beating I’d taken from Levi. My cousin was wrong. I did connect with people, just not the way everyone else did. The connection I needed was more primal and completely physical.

  Sex was the perfect solution since no messy and unnecessary feelings had to be involved.

  “You sure you want to go down this road, Mila?” Hound asked. “With me?” His voice was deeper, huskier, tickling something within me. It offered pleasure and promised fulfilment. But his question made it clear he needed a little ego boost to help him understand his own greatness. I could help him with that.

  “You said we’d talk about it when I was sober,” I replied.

  “This doesn’t look like talking.”

  “Nope. This looks like two consenting adults having a good time.” I grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and tugged it upward.

  Wincing, he raised his arms. A twinge of guilt stung at me as I gently pulled the fabric over his head. Tossing his shirt aside, I took in an eyeful. Broad shoulders, well-defined pectorals, tight abs with the perfect spattering of short, dark curls. No man should ever cover up such an incredible torso. My fingers itched to explore every hard ridge and dark strand.

  His eyes were full of questions. I let my gaze dip down to take in his body before licking my lips in approval. “Stand please,” I said.

  He shifted, rising in front of me.

  Damn.

  I had no idea how someone who had a body like Hound could be so self-conscious. His body was every bit as glorious as I’d imagined. The V leading down into his low-riding jeans whispered secrets and made promises I was all too willing to explore. I undid the button on his jeans and slowly tugged down his zipper.

  Hound sucked in a breath. The bulge in the front of his jeans twitched. Sliding his jeans down over his hips, I let them fall to the floor and focused on his boxer briefs. I tugged the elastic waistband down to free his cock. Thick, heavy, long, it bounced free.

  Dropping back to my knees, I met his gaze.

  His eyes searched mine, “Are you sure you want this?”

  More than wanting it, I needed it. I’d been through so much, and I needed to feel desired again. I needed pleasure and comfort and passion. I needed the art of the act. The emotions, the beauty. I needed the connection. I gripped his cock in my hand, giving him a little squeeze as my tongue swiped at the tip.

  His eyelids fluttered closed and he let out a low moan.

  His enjoyment fueled my own. “Yes,” I whispered. “Positive.”

  Spreading my lips over the swollen head of his cock, I took him deep into my throat, relishing in the way his velvety skin felt sliding over my tongue.

  He hissed out a curse.

  I pulled away, and then took him even deeper, palming his balls.

  “Goddamn.”

  Every hitch of his breath, every swear, every shudder, it all fed me. Sucking his cock, I slid it over my tongue again.

  Opening his eyes, Hound withdrew. I reached for him again, but he grabbed me beneath my arms and pulled me to my feet. The strain couldn’t have been good for his injured back, but his eyes were heavy with lust, not pain, as his lips met mine. The kiss started out soft and tentative, almost an introduction. He slid his tongue against the seam of my lips, silently requesting permission. I let him in as my hand found his cock and gave him an encouraging squeeze. Exploring my mouth with his tongue, he sucked the air from my lungs and pressed me flat against him. Hot, hard muscles met my cool, soft chest as he devoured my mouth. Hound was passion unleashed. Everywhere we touched, I burned for him. By the time he released my lips, I was panting heavily, my core was on fire, and my pussy was dripping.

  It was the most heated kiss I’d ever experienced.

  Gripping my hand, he led me to the bed. I slid beneath the covers, lying on my back and welcoming whatever he wanted to do to me.

  His expression softened as his gaze once again held mine. “You’re so damn beautiful. Are you sure about this?”

  He thought I was offering a gift, when I was merely seeking a transaction, giving him something he wanted in exchange for what I needed. “You have no idea how hot you are, Hound. Of course, I’m sure. Condoms are in the nightstand drawer right there.”

  He eyed me for a moment before following my gaze. Leaning over, he retrieved a foil packet and dropped it on the bed before lowering his lips to my breasts. Applying the same passionate kisses that had taken my breath away, Hound worked over each of my nipples before sliding down my stomach and settling himself between my thighs. Holding my gaze, he laved my slit before sucking my clit into his mouth.

  The sensation made my hips buck, desperate for more.

  He amped up the intensity, taking me on a journey of highs and lows, never letting me fully crest, never bringing me all the way down.

  With eyes full of intensity, he watched me. His gratitude, his emotion overwhelmed my senses, making it impossible to hold his gaze. Closing my eyes, I threw my head back as he finally shoved me over the edge of pleasure. I was a gasping, shuddering mess as he slid up my body and rolled the condom over his length.

  His entire body shuddered.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, worried about the effects the awkward position he was just in would have on his body.

  There was pain in the eyes that met mine, but also elation. Pride. Joy. Too many emotions to name. “Never better,” he said with a smile, making his words almost convincing. “You still want this?”

  “Yes. Absolutely,” I breathed. “But I...” I didn’t know what to say. Making me come had elated him and I didn’t want to tear his victory down by questioning whether or not it hurt him to perform.

  Pain flashed in his eyes. Afraid he was mistaking my reluctance for rejection, I grabbed his latex covered cock, and positioned the tip at my soaking wet entrance. “Fuck me.”

  Hound slid in slowly, watching my expression as I took his length. His strokes were tender and sweet, and nothing I deserved.

  “Make a friend, Meals. You need one.”

  Levi’s words lashed out at me. I was making a friend. Or destroying a friendship. I couldn’t even tell the difference anymore. But I needed this. I needed Hound. It was a matter of survival, of redeeming myself. Tears stung the back of my eyes and I blinked them away.

  “I’m not hurting you, am I?” he asked, always so fucking sweet.

  “No.” I squeezed his muscular ass. “You feel amazing.”

  He did, too. Hound reached all the places I was hurting. He filled all the empty spots. I knew it was just sex, but it felt like so much more. I’d never fucked a friend before. Maybe this was what it felt like.

  Doubts and worries about what hooking up would do to our friendship lingered at the edge of my subconscious, but I refused to let them in. All that mattered was this moment, this feeling. Closing my mind, I wrapped my legs around Hound and let myself go.

  Hound

  Even as I buried myself deep in Mila’s wet heat, I couldn’t believe someone like her would give herself to someone like me. Her soft curves cushioned my body, giving me something to grab onto as I drove deeper inside her. She felt so damn good, it was all I could do to keep from blowing my load.

  No matter how close our bodies got, we weren’t close enough. I wanted more. Wanted to give her everything. Her moans filled my ears and shot straight to my cock.

  I hadn’t fucked anyone since the accident t
hat ended my career. Unused to the movement, my spine ached, screaming at me to stop, while the rest of my body begged for more. Pain and pleasure warred within, threatening to rip me apart.

  I deepened my strokes. Fire raced up my spine. The agony made my entire body sensitive. Every sensation—the cool air, her soft skin, her hot breath against my neck—felt erotic. I’d never felt so raw and exposed in my life, and it was such a fucking turn on.

  A light sheen covered Mila’s neck and chest, making her glow in the early morning light. She was the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen, almost mythical in her beauty. Arching her back, she granted me access to drive even deeper inside her. Stars danced behind my eyes. I couldn’t tell whether they were from pleasure or pain, but it didn’t matter. It was everything. Slowing my strokes to get myself under control, I reveled in each welcoming millimeter of her hot, wet pussy, and every relentless complaint from my fucked-up spine.

  I’d pay for this later.

  And I’d do it again if she gave me the chance. As many times as she’d let me.

  Her nails dug into my back, adding to both the pain and the pleasure. She threw back her head and called out my name.

  “Carson! Oh, god, yes!”

  Ignoring the complaints of my body, I picked up the pace. Her channel tightened around my shaft, ripping curses from my lips as my balls drew up.

  “Yes. God. Right there. Ohmifuckinggod.”

  The sound of her unravelling was music to my ears. Proud to do this for her, I drove deeper and harder, riding out her orgasm until my own caught up. Fire exploded within me, spreading over my nerves and muscles. Temporarily blinded by my release, I fought off the urge to pass out, hovering my body above hers so I wouldn’t squash her with my weight.

  I didn’t want to pull out.

  Kissing the moisture from her neck and chin, I worked my way up to her lips as my arms trembled with exertion and fire raced down my back. As much as I didn’t want to, I needed to move. To stretch. To make sure I could still fucking walk. Rolling off her, I stood to toss the condom in the trash, and was immediately brought to my knees. Bile rose in the back of my throat, and I swallowed it down, trying not to gag.