JOANNE
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I was quite frozen for a while, both my hands in the air and my eyes almost budging out, thanks to the man lying against half of my body. His hands were firmly wrapped around my waists, like he owned them.
I knew he was drunk, but that didn’t leave room to stupidly not realise the woman he was holding is Joanne and no one else.
Slowly, I brought my hanging hands down, and not knowing where to drop them, I let one fall on the back of Hardy’s head and the other one to his sides.
He was stricken quiet, and I was a bit nervous.
This was another new side of him I hadn’t seen.
A side he would never intend to show me, because I am nothing to him.
Maybe being drunk once in a while is a good thing.
I didn’t know what came over me when I started to stroke the back of his head, letting his thick black hair sweep the passings of my fingers.
Immediately I realised it was Hardy I was touching. I pulled my hand to myself and gritted my teeth in horror, imagining the many things he might do.
But I was surprisingly taken aback when his right hand slowly reached for my hand and gently placed them back on his head.
What?
Did he find comfort in that? He didn’t get the urge to rip my bodies apart?
He wanted more.
I let my fingers move around his head again, stroking his thick and dark curls in a way that would put him at ease and almost make him fall asleep.
I went on with my strokes for a few minutes until he let out a sigh and muffled against the pillow.
“Say something,” he grumbled.
“What?” I was a bit confused.
“Say something; I hate how quiet it is.” He snarls, switching his head direction from facing the left to facing the right, which caused my hand to aggressively brush the back of his head.
“I don’t know what to say-
“Say anything” His voice is thick and famished.
“Okay, um, I.”
My eyes twitched when I noticed my brain had suddenly dried up and my voice box wasn’t planning to say anything other than ‘um’
“I once had a dog,” I started.
What the heck was I saying?
“Her name was Conchita, and she died.”
Holy sh*t, why the hell would I say that?
Joanne, what was wrong with you?
What the heck was wrong with me?
Out of everything I could come up with, I had to blab about my dead dog when he was still grieving about his dead wife.
“Um… I’m sorry; I didn’t know why I said that. Im truly sorry.” I shut my eyes.
Hardy didn’t say anything. He got up on all fours and just stared at me.
His eyes looked sleepy, and his cheeks were flushed.
“What do you want?” He asked me.
“What-
Why does he keep confusing me?
“What do you want?” He repeated.
What did he mean by that? I want so many things.
To leave this place happy and for Bailey to be found. And of course, I want money and a Chris E’mon shoe that I have been dying to own since I was eighteen.
So what did he mean?
I could easily have said I wanted out of this place, his revenge on Lisa, everything. But that would break him.
So instead, I just said what he needed to hear and regretted it instantly.
“I want you to be happy,”
His face softened, and a slight smug was plastered against it.
“And do you know what happiness is?”
“We don’t always know until we get it, don’t we?” I retorted.
“And we don’t wait for happiness; we create it ourselves.” He mumbled.
It looked like he was talking to himself about that and not me.
He got close to me, and his hand grabbed my face.
After a slight brush against my lips with his finger. He started to kiss me.
I didn’t try to fight it or wad him off like my subconscious was planning to do, because he’ll still have his way at the end of the day.
Tools are just to be used whenever their owner wishes.
My insides twisted a little.
Hardy’s kisses weren’t rushed or rough, like always. This time, it was gentle and calculative.
And in no time, my body gave into him, reciprocating every move he would pull.
I internally cussed my body for being too easy and too vulnerable to touch. And was he always this good of a kisser?
Was kissing his replacement in any way a way of creating happiness, or was his intoxication acting instead of him?
I shouldn’t probably care what he thinks or not.
Hardy took a seat, and his hands lifted me like I weighed nothing, and he gently placed me on his thighs.
Now straddling him, I was catching my breath when his hand pulled me closer to his body.
The insides of my legs hit his solid, rocked body, and I gulped.
I wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this. He wasn’t doing this while he was sober.
But look at me, shamelessly not even trying to hide the fact that I didn’t care what was going to happen tonight, despite him being drunk or not.
“Hardy, you don’t hav-
I stopped talking when he shook his head and started to kiss my neck.
I shivered under his warm jelly lips against my skin. My voice had drowned out like the wind, and the only thing I could vouch for was the genuine ecstasy I was feeling.
“H-
Inside, I had called his name, but my voice only came out as a fresh gasp for air.
His lips trailed from my neck to my collarbone; he was kissing me like I meant something to him.
And I liked it.
Not that I would care if I did mean something to a jerk like Hardy.
But because being meaningful makes you feel untouchable and then crazy when you get finally touched.
I did get like this when it was just Theodore; I always wanted more.
But it was a bit different with Hardy. With the way he kissed me, you would tell immediately that it had been ages since he did something like this.
Because despite his slow and gentle kisses, there was still a bit of rage buried under his tongue. A dying hunger was passing down my veins.
I almost thought I was drunk too.
But I wanted more.
I wouldn’t blame it on my so-called pregnancy hormones. Because I’ve always had this crazy, immense sex drive, but I’ve been so focused on trying to make ends meet that I probably forgot sex existed. Until I collided with Mr. Hardy Bensimon.
His mouth had moved to my cleavages, and every kiss felt like a warm penny being gently placed on my skin.
I should have stopped him, but I would be dumb to do that.
His hand reached for each sides of my robe, and he made a part, revealing my breasts.
His eyes wandered on them for exactly three seconds before going in slowly and closing my nipple in his mouth.
Being sucky drove me crazy. Always.
And coming from a man like Hardy-
This was pure paradise.
I bit my bottom lip to put away the sound that tried to escape my lip as I felt multiple tingles in between my legs, and it immediately gave my brain tinges.
With his warm mouth still around my nipple, his hands closed my rib cage, and he went on to slide me under him.
Our contact broke off, and I took another wild look at the man above me.
Weeks ago, I was praying in the back of my mind, hoping and wishing for the day I’d step out of his cocoon. But now, within the moment, I wanted nothing more than to bury myself further into everything he owned.
I held eye contact with Hardy, trying to breathe through my nose.
He was looking at me. His expression was blank, and immediately, I wanted to know what he was thinking.
I knew he was drunk, but still. What was he thinking about?
Did he like the fact that he’s about to have sex with me?
Is his self-awareness 100 percent? Or this would be one of those acting on impulse.
He immediately started to take off his shirt, and when it came off, he leaned down to untie my robe knot.
It was convenient that I was already naked.
His mouth moved down my stomach, with his tongue dabbing halfway through every trail before moving back up to my other breast, which he hadn’t sucked.
He started off caressing my breasts with his tongue.
I spat out a moan as his hand consciously rubbed my core.
He spread my legs wide open and moved up on me, his weight completely crushing my body-in a good way.
And I felt my insides trembling already.
His mouth still worked on my nipples, but he was going really slow this time.
His hand stopped working down my legs, and slowly after, his mouth too.
His weight was almost crushing me now.
I let out a noticeable gasp when I realized he was already fast asleep, I slipped my way out of his enormous body and wrapped my robe properly around my body.
I burst out an unbelievable laugh, staring at him.
Well, he did seem too good to be true. I shouldn’t have counted my eggs before they hatched.
I watched Hardy sleep like a child, and I didn’t know when I fell asleep too, at the edge of the bed.
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