Hungry Heart: Part Two
Hungry
Heart
Part Two
An Erotic Romance
By
Violet Haze
Stoked Publishing House
Hungry Heart: Part Two ©2014 by Violet Haze
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Original Cover Photo by Melissa Angelski
Cover Design by Violet Haze
Stoked Publishing House
Kindle Edition
First Edition: November 2014
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Blurb
~*~
Sometimes love is like a delicate house of cards.
It’s tenuous. It’s built on all the parts working together just perfectly to keep it in one piece.
One wrong move, one misjudgment even after it’s standing in all its glory, and the whole thing will tumble down all around you.
And no matter how hard Benedict and I try to fight it, everything which seems secure about our world comes into question, leaving us clinging to one another as it becomes harder to trust anyone.
Especially when a shocking murder shatters my world.
Warning!!
This book is only suitable for mature audiences.
Includes violence that may contain triggers.
This is
PART TWO
of a serial.
Please read
PART ONE
first if you haven’t already.
It’s 99 cents on Amazon.
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Thank you and enjoy!
<3
Violet Haze
1
Honesty is the best policy.
Even as I avoid Benedict with lies, I still believe this.
And I hate lying. I despise it.
I’m a terrible hypocrite for hating lies, yet giving him bullshit excuses as to why we can’t get together.
It’s that time of the month.
The weather is making me sick.
My cat died.
No, I don’t have a cat here. It lived with my grandma.
Yeah, the cat belonged to my grandmother. The only thing making it better is it’s clear he knows something isn’t right because it’s been a whole week. He keeps asking me what happened, what did Miranda and Len say to me, am I okay?
No. No. As a matter of fact, I’m not okay.
I remember their conversation, I know what Benedict told me, and I wonder if she made everything up when they were together to get her way.
If he feels guilty for nothing.
And here I am, not telling him what I know, and I’m wrong. I know I’m wrong, but I don’t know if telling him is the right thing to do either.
He’s my business, but I have to figure out if that includes his relationships with other people, and the things I hear about them.
The sudden ring on my computer, indicating I’m being called, jerks me out of my thoughts. Seeing it’s from my mother, I answer and her face — so similar to mine that I’m sure of what I’ll look like in thirty plus years — pops up on the screen. Her smile is big and happy, and so contagious I find myself reciprocating.
“Hi, mom.”
“Hi, honey! You doing all right?”
I’m not sure why she always asks me that. One time I said no, and went to tell her why not, and she ended up having to go in a flash. So I don’t even bother anymore. “Yeah. How’re you and dad? How’s London?”
“Lovely, darling! Your father and I are thoroughly enjoying ourselves. How’d finals go? Did you get our gift?”
I finger the well-fitted diamond bracelet they sent me, holding my arm up so she can see it. “I did. Thank you again. I would’ve called you but never saw you online—”
She waves her hand. “No worries. Should be us apologizing. We’ve been so busy we almost forgot your birthday! How terrible that would’ve been!”
Honestly, I wouldn’t have cared, but she does so I laugh with her. “It’s all right mom. I know you guys would never forget about me on purpose.”
She winks. “Any plans for the holiday?”
Christmas is two days away, but Nathan and I don’t have any plans because neither of us really celebrate it.
In all the time we’ve been together, we’ve never bought a gift for one another — at my insistence. We would spend the evening together having dinner and watching a movie, but that’s it. I’m not even sure what we’re doing for New Year’s now. We usually go to the club, but I’m avoiding that for obvious reasons.
“You know me, mom,” I say after a moment. “Never any plans ’til the last second here.”
Maybe she knows something isn’t right, because she just stares at me through the cam, pursing her lips as she studies me. But then the look is gone and she nods. “All right. Well, in case everything gets busy, Merry Christmas darling. Your father and I decided to just put the money we’d spend on your gift in your account so you can buy yourself something you want instead, okay?”
What I would love is to spend time with them, but no point in saying anything else except what I always do. Taking care of me is how they show their love and I know it. I accepted it long ago on the outside. “Okay. Thanks mom. Love you.”
“Love you too, sweetie. Gotta go now, I’ll give your father your love. He’s out and about.”
“Thanks. See you later.”
Taking off the bracelet, I stick it in my purse. I only wear the things they buy me when I know they’re going to want to see it. It’s the one reason Nathan and I don’t buy gifts for each other. He knows how much it bothers me, even though rationally I know he’s not buying my love. I simply don’t want to even feel like he is for a second.
I’m lost in my thoughts when the doorbell rings, and I end up ignoring it because I know Nathan will get it. And after a few minutes pass, I figure he took care of whoever showed up, but then he yells up the stairs.
“Baby, come here!”
Shutting off my computer, I head toward the steps and walk down them slowly.
But seeing it’s not Nathan wearing a suit along with a heart-stopping smile at the bottom of the steps has me halting and tossing Benedict a glare. Without a word, I whirl around and start back up with a stomp.
“Stop.” Benedict doesn’t raise his voice, but his command is firm and full of authority, enough so I want to turn around and flip him off.
Ignoring him, I continue walking and seconds later, it’s clear he’s following me as I knew he would. As I want him to with everything in me. And with that little admission, I take off with a dash because I don’t want to face him.
Fuck, I don’t know why I think I can beat him, but I try. Making it to my door, I’m almost inside when he picks me up from behind and carries me into my room, kicking the door shut behind him.
He holds me to him with one arm around my body under my breasts and it’s in this position where his power and strength are clear. No matter how much I thrash about, he simply carries me as if it’s nothing, his breathing easy and even.
“If you think this is off-putting, it isn’t.” He chuckles and my heart quickens as he carries me toward the bed. “I love a passionate pre-fuck fight as much as I love someone letting me do whatever I want while they’re not moving. Either way, I’ll enjoy myself.”
God, at those words alone I remember the way he fucked me on the table, and admit in my head how much I’ll enjoy what he’s about to do too. Going limp in his arms, he places me so I’m facedown on the bed, and I don’t even fight him.
“I wanted to talk first, Caroline,” he says into my ear after covering my trembling body with his rock hard one. “But you don’t want that do you? Would you like me to fuck you like we both want me to first?”
Afraid to speak because of the words I don’t want to say just ache to fly out of my mouth, I use my body instead. Lifting my hips a little off the bed, I grind my ass into the front of him, the feel of his hard-on stroking the flames between us, and a moan of need erupts escapes from both of us.
“Good fucking choice.”
There’s no hesitation in his touch, and he doesn’t take the time to get either of us completely naked. He moves off me, yanks down my bottoms to my feet where I kick them off, protects us both, and well, there’s no other way to describe it. He impales me with his cock in one delicious, self-assured thrust, my body hanging over the edge of the bed with my legs straight.
“Oh god!” The cry is ripped from my throat because while I wanted it, I wasn’t completely ready for it, and it hurts enough to make my whole body tense up.
“Do you want me to stop?” He pauses, his tenuous hold on his self-control evident as he grips my hip with one hand, and with a fleeting thought I wonder what his other hand is doing.
With a shake of my head, I keep my head down even as slide my arms straight, fisting the comforter in my hands as I wiggle my hips to encourage him on.
“Good.” He pulls to the edge, teasing us both as he lingers there, and plunges back in hard enough to make us both gasp. “I’d stop if I have to but I don’t fucking want to.”
Every single thrust after is followed up with a question or statement, and I stay unresponsive while the overwhelming pleasure thrums through even in spite of the fact he’s pissed at me. For some reason, his anger turns me the fuck on, and every single word he speaks sends me closer and closer to the edge of my first orgasm since the last time I saw him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“You can’t just have sex with me and then fucking feed me bullshit excuses.”
“Was going to wait on you, but I said screw it. Decided I’d just fuck it out of you instead.”
And on and on, until I feel his hand slam down beside me on the bed, the other leaving my hip to slip between my legs and stroke my clit just right.
I come hard, seconds before him, my mind going blank while my body shakes beneath his, and with a final thrust, he joins me. Both of us go limp, his body resting on mine, and he presses a soft kiss on my shoulder.
“Caroline?”
“Hmm?” My eyes are closed and I’m just enjoying the feel of having him close, wondering what the fuck I’m going to do when he starts asking questions. I’m hoping he doesn’t ask me right now because I’m not ready.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “I crushed your chocolate chip muffin.”
I can’t even keep my eyes from popping open then, looking to where his hand has slammed down beside me, and there is the muffin he brought me. The muffin I hadn’t even seen him holding.
With that, laughter bubbles up and out of me.
Followed by tears as I burst into sobs at the realization I have to do the one thing I don’t want to.
2
“Why do you have your own room?”
Benedict’s question comes after he’s comforted me while I cried, stripped us both naked so we could shower, and followed it up by climbing into bed with me. Well, after he cleaned off the muffin mess he made.
Now we’re cuddling under the blankets. I’m half lying on top of him with my head on his shoulder, one leg thrown over his waist, and the other palm-flat over his heart. It won’t be long until he’ll ask me what’s wrong again and I’ll have to tell him, but for now I answer his random question.
“Easier to sleep for both of us. Nathan snores louder than I like, and I apparently move around too much, sometimes kicking him. I guess one time he was on the edge of the bed and he fell off ‘cuz of me.”
“I know that all too well,” he says, voice filled with amusement as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “You’re also a blanket hog.”
“Am I? You were under them when I woke up.”
“Yeah, after I fought for them. Twice. You’ve got quite the grip on everything involving me even when you’re doing nothing else except sleeping.”
