Fixed on You Collector's Edition.jpg
 

fixed on you Deleted scene: the limo

He almost smiled, but squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to reign in his emotions. When he opened his eyes again, they were pleading. “Alayna, don’t quit.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t quit me, either.”

“Okay.”

He nodded again. “Thank you.” He straightened, his poise returning, and I knew that he was putting the mask back on, that his nakedness was over.

I still had something to say, though. I leaned toward him, placing my hand firmly on his knee. “Hudson, you’re not broken.”

His expression faltered briefly, his eyes cast downward. When they rose again I saw them pass my exposed cleavage. His brow rose. “What are you...? Is that...?”

I looked down to see what he saw. The corset. Damn, I’d forgotten. “Yes.”

His eyes darkened. “Let me see it,” he growled.

I shivered. I’d meant it when I’d told him the whole dominant thing was hot.

But beyond being hot, I knew his command was a test, even if he didn’t mean it to be. How I responded would tell him whether we were okay or not. It would tell him whether or not I could still want him, flaws and all.

And I wasn’t completely naïve. It occurred to me that everything he’d said since we’d gotten in the limo could be part of his manipulative game, that he could be getting off on how easy it was to make me fall for his lies.

But I refused to believe that I hadn’t seen the real him. And if I had to choose between being trusting or playing it safe, I chose trust. Because playing it safe would be a setback in my own recovery. And I wanted to trust Hudson Pierce. More than I could ever admit.

I reached behind me and pulled down the zipper of my dress. He made no move to help me. He was letting me choose, he didn’t want to be the bully this time. Slowly, I shimmied it over my shoulders and down around my waist. I lifted my hips to push the fabric to the floor, leaving me dressed in nothing but my heels, the corset that exposed a great deal of my torso, and my lacey black panties.  

He drank me up with his eyes, his gaze melting me and arousing me. “God, Alayna. You’re so beautiful. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

I shook my head.

He moved to touch me, but paused, seeking permission. “Let me show you.” It wasn’t quite a question, but I knew it must be tough for him to ask rather than just take.

I put us both out of our misery and gave myself over to him. “Yes, please.”

In an instant he was kneeling in front of me, his lips crushing mine. His tongue slid into my mouth, licking along my teeth, sweeping against my own. His hand circled around my nape pulling me deeper into him, exposing his need. His need for me.

As he kissed and nipped and consumed my very breath, his other hand pushed past the thin fabric of my panties, finding the swollen bud buried between my thighs. His thumb circled bringing me quickly to the edge.

“You’re so wet. God, I can’t wait.” He sat back onto his seat and undid his pants, my want for him increasing in every second he wasn’t touching me.

When his cock was free, he pulled me to his lap. I gasped as he ripped off my panties then straddled me over his throbbing penis. I gasped again when he thrust his hips upward, burying himself balls deep into my heated center.

He groaned my name. Then he began to fuck me, adopting a fast and torturous pace. Even though I was on top, he drove from the bottom. He was rough and unharnessed, and I bit my lip against the delicious pain of his repeated invasion. It was another test, to see if I could accept this part of him too, the uncontrolled part of him that pounded into me with unrelenting desire.

And I did accept, taking what he gave, climbing higher and higher toward my orgasm. When he reached his thumb down to massage my clit, I exploded instantly, crying out as I came long and hard. My sex squeezed and milked him as he rode to his own climax. He shuddered as he came, his fingers digging into my shoulder as he impaled himself deep into my core.

Our eyes met, and I glimpsed him, bare and exposed for just a moment before he put his guard back up. I’d chosen right to trust him. I also sensed that he intended to pretend none of our conversation had taken place. He was a great pretender. I got it. It was easier to deflect.  

Still, even if he never said anything about it again, I knew he wasn’t trying to manipulate me into falling in love with him. But I was going to fall in love with him anyway.


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