Hardcore: Volume 2 by Staci Hart Read Free Book Online Page A

there before I made another mistake. “You wouldn’t understand.” I swung my legs back to the roof to leave, but he grabbed my arm.  
    I looked back at him as he stood to meet me. His face was shrouded in shadows, the sky on fire behind him as he slipped his hands into my hair. That simple touch, the proximity of his body, all of it overloaded my senses, and I couldn’t move.
    “Cory,” he whispered.
    The pain in his voice broke me, and I felt the confession hot on my lips. I had to stop the words.
    I lifted my chin, bringing my lips just short of his as I held my breath, wondering if he would turn me away. My body screamed for him, and I waited in agony until it was too much to resist.
    I brushed my lips against his, and he cupped my cheeks, kissing me back with reverence and ownership. Relief washed over me at his touch, everything else forgotten as I gave in to him. Gave into what I wanted.
    My hands roamed up his chest, to his shoulders and neck. My fingertips brushed his jaw, and he wound his arms around me, holding me as close as he could without crushing me, as if I would slip away.
    His lips weren’t insistent this time. They were afraid.
    He broke away to trail urgent kisses down my jaw, and I lifted my chin, arching my back as he leaned over me. My arms were around his neck, fingers in his hair, hanging on with regret pumping through me. I wanted him, wanted to be with him. I wanted his body. But I didn’t deserve to ask for anything from him, not with the lie hanging between us.
    He laid me down on the ledge, and adrenaline ripped through my body. I could feel the empty space past the edge, a void of wind and nothingness that dropped hundreds of feet to the busy street. I was aware of every detail — the cold concrete against my back, the wind against every hair on my arms, his body as he pressed his hips into mine.
    His hands roamed my body as he nipped at my neck, pausing to unbutton my pants as I reached into his, not wanting to think. I couldn’t stop, and he couldn’t either. He hooked his fingers under the band of my jeans and pulled them to my knees, then bent my legs, guiding them so my thighs were pressed against my breasts, leaving my pussy exposed. I ached for him.
    “Van,” I moaned.
    He wet his lips as he pulled a condom out of his wallet and ripped it open, rolling it on while I lay panting on the ledge. He touched my pussy and leaned over me, resting his wide chest against my shins. “Tell me you want this.”
    “I want this,” I breathed.
    “Tell me you want me.” Emotion was thick in his voice.
    I locked eyes with him. “I want you.”
    “Tell me to fuck you.”
    “Fuck m—” He drove into me, and my heart stopped. I sucked in a breath and held it, unable to exhale as he pulled out and slammed in hard enough that I couldn’t keep my eyes open.
    My heart kickstarted so fast and hard, I thought I would break. It was too much, everything I felt and wanted, all the things I couldn’t have right in front of me, inside of me. I was caged in his arms, his eyes on mine as he flexed his hips with more force. I didn’t want to hold on, and when I felt him let go, so did I. We came together with a cry, lungs frozen, hearts broken.
    Van gasped and slowed, hand slipping down my thigh. When he opened his eyes, pain passed over his face. He touched my cheek, thumbing a tear I didn’t realize I’d shed.  
    “Don’t cry,” he whispered and kissed my forehead, holding me for a moment as I tried to breathe. As I let him go.
    He backed away, and I sat, tugging on my pants while he got rid of the condom. When he sat next to me, he scooped me into his arms. They were so strong, so warm. Safe. I curled into him.
    “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
    “Don’t be sorry.” His hand cupped the back of my head as he rocked me, pressing his cheek against my hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
    Yet. “I can’t be with you, Van. I need you to understand that I just