Hardcore: Complete Series

by Staci Hart

  I touched his cheek, looked into his pleading eyes. “Thank you for that, Van,” I whispered.

  He shook his head as he stood, moving between my legs. He cupped my face, tilted it up to his. “No more thanks, no more apologies. I just want to be with you. I just want to start over. Are you ready?”

  “I’m ready.”

  His thumb shifted against my cheek as he dropped his lips, locked them with mine, pressed his body against me. My shirt inched up my thighs until my bare ass was on the leather seat. The kiss deepened, our breath heaving until he slipped a hand around my back and guided my legs around his waist. He picked me up and set me on the granite countertop.

  He pulled away, trailed his fingers down my jaw, down my neck, to the collar of my shirt, his eyes on his fingers as he slipped it off my shoulder. It fell down my arms, and I threaded them out, leaving the cotton hanging around my waist.

  Van looked down at me, holding my chin in his fingers. “No one’s going to hurt you again. No one’s going to make you do anything you don’t choose to do. Never.” He ran his fingertips down my breast, to my waist, his lips millimeters from mine. “Never,” he whispered. “You’re free.”

  His lips claimed mine with fire that ran through my body and between my legs, wound around his waist. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me to his cock, pressing against me through the fabric of his pants. He hung my ass just over the edge of the counter and buried his face in my neck as I wrapped my arms around his.

  “I want this, Van.” I whispered. “I want you.”

  His fingers tightened against my ass, his breath hot against my skin. “I’m yours.”

  I kissed him again with my heart humming, dragged my hands down his back, slipped them into his pants and raked my fingers across his ass. I trailed them around his hips, and he shifted just enough to give me access to grip him, to slide my hands up and down the length of his cock. When I tugged his pants down to release him, his crown hit my clit with a soft pat, and I grabbed his hips, pulled him to me, needing him inside me. He backed his hips away.

  “Condom,” he whispered, and I moaned. He reached into a drawer full of pens and rubber bands and came back with a foil packet. I was too focused on his cock to give a fuck why he had a condom in the kitchen, just took it from him and ripped it open, reached for his length and slid it on with both hands while he watched with steaming eyes. I brought his tip to rest against my pussy, and in a breath, he filled me completely.

  “God, yes,” I whispered.

  He pulled out and slammed back in. “Say it again,” he said as he slid out.

  “God—” He rammed into me. “YES,” I cried.

  He rolled his hips, pressing hard enough to make my thighs quake. Our bodies moved together, fast and hard. My arms were hung round his neck, and I leaned back, watching his cock disappear into me once. Twice. Harder and harder until my heart stopped, and I came with a cry and a gasp. He grabbed my hips and buried himself in me, and I opened my eyes to watch his face as he came, eyes squeezed shut, neck arched, lips parted as a moan passed them.

  He dragged in a breath, let it out slow, lowered his lips to mine as he held my body against his, pulsing inside of me as I pulsed around him.

  Out of nowhere, he broke away from my lips with a pop. I looked up at him, heavy-lidded and confused.

  “Dinner,” he said with a laugh and pecked my lips.

  “Oh, fuck.” I looked over my shoulder at the stove. The chicken was overcooked, the sauce burned off to leave a sizzling brown crust around it.

  “Worth it.” Van kissed my temple and let me go, pulling off the condom and righting his pants as he hurried around the island and moved the pan off the burner. He opened the oven and took out the asparagus, laying the metal sheet on the stove next to the ruined chicken.

  He smiled sideways. “Ice cream it is.”

  I laughed and slipped off the counter, pulling on my shirt. “Let’s eat it in bed,” I said over my shoulder.

  His smile stretched wider as his eyes dragged down my body. “I’ll meet you there.”

  When I came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Van was waiting for me in bed with two massive bowls of ice cream. He was stretched out, ankles crossed in front of him. Even the pads of his feet were sexy.

  I grinned at him, and he smiled back around his spoon.

  I climbed into bed and sat lotus, pulling my shirt so it hung between my legs. Not that I figured Van would mind seeing a little cooch, though I wasn’t sure if we’d make it through the ice cream. He stuck his spoon in a scoop and handed me my bowl.

  “Thanks.” I took a bite, and he watched my lips. “Mmm. Salted caramel?”

  “Mmm hmm,” he hummed with his mouth full.”

  “So, condoms in the kitchen?”

  Van almost choked on his ice cream when he laughed, lips pinched shut so he didn’t spit ice cream everywhere. It was adorable. He swallowed and laughed out loud. “I figured I’d have to explain that. Here’s the honest truth. I have them hidden all over the apartment.”

  I gave him a look. “Van. Gross.”

  “Here’s the other part of that. I only put them there after our first date.”

  I laughed. “Are you serious?”

  He nodded down into his bowl, smiling as he pushed his ice cream around with his spoon. “I can’t keep my hands off you. It’s not my fault.”

  I couldn’t stop giggling. “I can’t even.”

  Van laughed at me as I tried to catch my breath.

  My cheeks hurt. “So you want to protect me but you also want to be inside of me.”

  He shrugged. “Exactly. I just care about your health and well-being. So sue me. I also want to be able to touch you whenever I want, wherever I want.”

  “That’s amazing. You’re amazing.” I took a bite of ice cream.

  He chuckled and shifted his feet so they were resting against my thigh.

  “So, there’s a huge photo of me on your wall,” I said with a laugh.

  He flushed a little. “I hung it yesterday. The wall was so empty without the Rothko, and the shoot I did of you … I don’t know. It just affected me. I’ve been developing the pictures, and that one explained everything — how I feel about you, how you feel about yourself. I wanted you to fill that space on my wall. In my heart. In my life.”

  His foot moved absently against my leg, and I dropped a hand to his ankle. “Van …”

  He shook his head and took another bite of ice cream. “I don’t mean to freak you out. I don’t always think before I speak. A little too honest for my own good.”

  “I’m not freaked out, and I want your honesty.” I thought on it for a beat. “Maybe it’s not weirding me out because I feel the same way. It’s actually a relief to know we’re in the same place.”

  “It’s strange, you know? I barely know you, but I feel like I’ve always known you. It’s like my life can be divided by the time before you and after you.”

  I nodded. “That’s exactly it. To almost have you and then lose you …” I shook my head. “I never thought we would have this chance. Never. We were doomed from the start, but somehow, here we are. I still can’t believe it.”

  He smiled. “Need me to pinch you?”

  I laughed. “I can definitely think of a few places you could pinch me.”

  He set his bowl down and climbed toward me. “Me too.”

  I took a bite, nodding. “Mmm hmm. I can think of at least three spots that could use a solid pinching.” I took another bite.

  He took my bowl from my hands.

  “Hey! I wasn’t finished with that.”

  “You are for now.” He took my spoon, smiling.

  I smiled back and stuck my finger in the bowl. Ice cream dripped down my finger as I brought it to my lips. “What if I don’t want to be finished?” I slipped it into my mouth and pulled it out slow.

  His eyes were on my lips. He reached into the bowl and dipped his finger in, brought it to my mouth, spread it across my bo
ttom lip. “Maybe I’ll let you have a little more.” His lips closed over mine, and he sucked, running his tongue across it. I closed my eyes, shuddering a moment later when a cold trail ran down my neck. He broke away to lick the ice cream from my skin.

  My hands found his bare shoulders, his skin soft under my fingertips. He dipped his fingers into the ice cream and dragged them across the skin on my chest, trailed his hand to my waist to pull me into his lap. I slung my legs over his thighs, arms around his neck, and he braced me as he leaned me back to access my chest. His breath was hot on my skin as his tongue moved across the trail, his hand cupping my breast, squeezing gently.

  He reached back into the bowl and dragged the cold ice cream behind my ear, down my neck, licking up the trail this time, taking his time when he reached my earlobe, humming softly in my ear as he sucked. Goosebumps shot down my arms, and I slipped my fingers into his hair and twisted. He laid me back, hair hanging off the end of the bed as he reached into the bowl again and trailed a freezing finger up the inside of my thigh. He slinked down with his hands on my waist as his tongue followed the path until he was close enough to my pussy that my nerves fired, anticipating him.

  But he reached for the bowl again. I watched him take a bite, smiling wickedly as he dropped back between my legs, his eyes locked on mine as he closed his freezing lips over my clit. I gasped, mouth hanging open as the cold shot through me, his icy tongue moving around the sensitive bud achingly slow. I twisted his hair in my fingers, pulled him into me as my hips rolled against his mouth. He broke away to take another bite, dropped down to tease me again, and I couldn’t think, just snapped off the bed in an arch with my chin pointed at the ceiling.

  When he pulled away again, I couldn’t take the tease anymore. I shifted to roll us over, putting him under me, smiling as I crawled around, wanting his cock, wanting to touch him, to kiss his body. I took the bowl with me, took a bite, and dropped my mouth down over his crown, down the length of his cock. He sucked in a breath from behind me, grabbed my thighs, fingers in the bend against my stomach, and he pulled me back until my pussy met his tongue. We moaned against each other, licking and sucking, my every thought consumed by his tongue against my clit, my lips around his cock as I took him deep. He shifted his chin back and forth, and I paused with a gasp through my nose, eyes fluttering closed as my pussy contracted.

  He sensed I was close and slowed, then released me. “Stay just like that,” he growled, and I let him go. “Don’t move.” He ducked out from under me and grabbed a condom from the nightstand as I waited on my hands and knees for him, naked and panting. His fingers trailed down my spine as his crown pressed against my pussy, and I arched my back, wanting him inside of me. When his hand reached the bend of my waist, he gripped, pulling me onto his cock as he flexed his hips and filled me.

  I moaned when he hit the end of me, eyes pinched shut as I dropped to my forearms, burying my face in the sheets twisted in my fists.

  He pulled out and flexed again, and my thighs shuddered, my brain overloaded by the feeling, breath coming in hot gasps. He rolled his hips in waves as I hung on, and his hands pulled me onto him, over and over.

  “Van …” The word burst out of me, a strangled cry.

  “Cory …” he moaned, voice rough. He buried himself in me. “I want to see your face.” He pulled out and drove into me again. “I want to see you come.” Again. I called for him, and he pulled out of me. “Roll over.”

  My legs were weak, arms rubber, and I was grateful to lie on my back. I opened my arms, and he filled them. The weight of his body on mine was exactly what I wanted, and I brought my knees up to my chest, legs spread as he guided his cock into me again. I dropped my head back, exposing my neck. He kissed and sucked, shifted my calf to rest it against his chest, laying my ankle on his shoulder. He was so deep inside of me that when he matched my other ankle, my lungs froze. He propped himself up, rolling his hips gently to make sure I could take him all. His crown hit the sensitive spot inside of me with every thrust, the grind of his hips against my clit too much. I gasped as my body flexed, my pussy closing around him so tight, so hard that I couldn’t breathe again, just gaped, eyes closed, body arched. I came all around him, and he followed, hard and hot inside of me.

  He pumped again, then once more before shifting my legs so he could collapse on me. I wrapped my heavy limbs around him, heart pumping like a piston against my ribs. We lay there for a long while, though I wasn’t sure just how long, only that he kissed me gently and disappeared for a moment before reappearing with a washcloth. My lids cracked open, and I smiled at him as he gently cleaned up the streaks of ice cream from my chest and neck, from my thigh. I shifted and took it from him to clean up, and he tossed it in his closet when I was finished. He climbed into bed next to me, pulled me into his chest. Held me and kissed me, told me he wanted me without speaking a word.

  And then, I had the best night’s sleep of my life.

  I WOKE THE NEXT morning completely surrounded by him. Our legs were tangled together, his arms around me, my head under his chin. I smiled, not wanting to open my eyes. Not wanting to end the feeling. I barely moved, but he stirred, arms squeezing me tighter.

  “I’m not dreaming, am I?” His voice was rough from sleep.

  “Only if I am too.”

  He kissed the top of my head and wrapped his fingers in my hair, and we lay that way for a long while. My hand found his back, swept up, then down as his did the same, innocently at first. His fingers grazed the curve of my waist, mine traced the dip above his ass. Every little move, from the pressure of his cheek against my head to the shift of his thigh as he slipped it between mine, every touch heightened our senses. His cock stirred against my stomach when my fingertips skated across the smooth skin of his ass to his thigh. I flattened my palm and dragged it up. He sucked in a breath as my fingers skimmed his shaft, hands roaming his body just as his did mine.

  I wanted to touch him everywhere. Every inch of skin, every angle and curve. My fingers closed around his cock as his hand slipped around my ass to touch my pussy, soft and teasing in long strokes. He traced the slit up and down, pausing to circle my clit, and I held him gently, stroking him in the same rhythm, gripping tighter when I reached his base.

  I slung a leg over his hip, giving him access that he used to slip his fingers into me. I leaned back so I could see him, looked into his eyes as he touched me, brow creased in the smallest way, just enough to see his heart. I shifted my hips, angling his cock to my pussy as his hand moved to my ass. He flexed his hips as I flexed the leg hooked over his, pulling him into me.

  He didn’t move to kiss me as he pulled out and slipped in, hand on my hip, mine on his cheek. My thumb brushed his lips, and he kissed it gently, eyes never leaving mine as our bodies came together.

  His eyes widened. “Condom.”

  I shook my head and rolled my hips, shifting his cock inside of me. “It’s safe for me.”

  He nodded, laid his hand over mine and turned his head to press a kiss into my palm, matching me motion for motion. His hand moved to my hip and gripped it, pulled me to him with more force. Our eyes were locked as he pulled in a breath, let out a moan, filled me to the hilt as he came.

  His hips slowed as mine picked up, angling my body so that with each motion his shaft dragged across my clit, grinding into him when he filled me, each motion faster until my heart pounded, then stopped for that long moment when my body clenched, squeezed around him once and released, let go with a heavy breath.

  I rolled my hips slow and lazy, though I didn’t stop, wanting nothing more than to keep him inside of me for a little longer as my body tightened around him in bursts, even though my orgasm had passed.

  Van pulled me to him, pressed his lips to mine. He pulled away after a moment and smiled down at me. “Run with me.”

  “Anywhere.”

  He kissed me again with a smile. “First, food. Real food. Bacon. Pancakes.”

  “Yes to all. And coffee.”
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  “Definitely coffee.”

  We rolled out of bed and into the bathroom, pulling on minimal clothes before I followed him into the kitchen for breakfast, laughing and chatting as he cooked and made coffee. We ate stacks of pancakes and bacon like wild animals. And once we’d had our fill, we dressed, me in my now-clean clothes and him in a tank and low-slung jersey pants, hat backwards, smile beaming. He took my hand, and we ran.

  And as I followed him through the city, the cage around my heart opened as far as the hinges would allow.

  THE GALLERY WAS PACKED with people, the steady hum of conversation woven with an undercurrent of downtempo electronic music that played over the speakers. I smiled as I talked to a potential buyer, though I wasn’t really listening. My eyes were on Cory across the room, talking with her friends. She laughed at something Erin was saying, and her face lit up with joy. She pushed her black hair over her shoulder, and my eyes followed the line of her body. The ‘v’ of her neckline was cut to below her breasts, somehow without being revealing, and the fabric in the back was crossed, leaving a wide triangle of exposed skin low on her back. I looked down her legs to her tall, black heels.

  I smiled, imagining those legs wound around my waist.

  She turned to me like she’d heard my thoughts, something that happened often. Her red lips inched into a smile, green eyes sparkling. I couldn’t look away.

  “…when that piece in particular is exciting on its own. Would you agree?” The older man said.

  I turned my attention back to him and cleared my throat. “Absolutely. Just talk to my agent about whichever pieces you’re interested in, and we’ll set up a meeting.”

  “That would be wonderful. We can do lunch next week.” He stuck out his hand, and I shook it. “Thank you, Mr. Collins.”

  “Of course. If you’ll excuse me.”

  I walked across the room, past the large photos of Cory that hung throughout the space. She stood in front of my favorite piece in the collection. The shadows were deep, her body in high contrast to the sky behind her as she stood on the ledge of Logan Tower, looking out over the city. The angle was such that I caught her hair in the light as it flew behind her, as did the tear streak on her cheek. The hurt, the pain on her face as clear as her resolve. She was a warrior.