Hypersonic
Copyright© 2026 by nyra
Chapter 101
Romance Sex Story: Chapter 101 - Arielle Hawthorne lives for illegal street racing. Fast cars, high stakes, no attachments. Nate Carter races the same streets with reckless swagger and infuriating charm. Rivals by choice and partners by necessity, they’re forced together as rival crews and the police close in. Their chemistry is dangerous, their trust fragile, and falling for each other may be the riskiest move of all.
Caution: This Romance Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Crime Humor Cream Pie Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Body Modification Violence
The One With A Collapse
(Of An Empire)
NATE
In the time since I rose from the fucking dead, I wish I could say more has happened. Something like, Arielle has entirely forgiven me and Ezra is six feet underground.
Sadly, neither are true.
One can wish.
I’m still living with QuickDraw. It seems as though ever since we finally revealed everything to Arielle, I’ve barely seen him. It’s weird, sure, but I think he’s just been busy with other shit. I’m assuming he’s probably trying to find proof of Vivien’s murder so he can arrest Ezra for good, but I can’t be sure.
In the meantime, I’ve been cleaning up my house. Throwing out the broken and torn furniture, repainting, patching the holes in the drywall, and buying all new shit. I have plans to change shit up a bit, including thoughts of putting some wicked lighting around the edge of my bed. I think it’ll create a sick ambiance.
If you catch my drift.
When Hayes had come to me and told me about Langley switching to our team, I was shocked, to say the least. But then Hayes informed me that Ezra killed Vivien and it was the thing that turned Langley against him.
However, the more I’ve thought about Langley and his recent behaviours, it makes sense. When I reminisce on that time when I met with him in an attempt to get Arielle’s engagement ring back, he’d been acting super fucking weird. I didn’t understand it at the time, but now it makes me believe he was already doubting his father and his role within their business.
The thing is, I really can’t be sure if we can trust Langley. There was once a time when I thought that perhaps I could—I mean, the guy literally saved my life—but the timing of everything seems to suspicious for me. Plus, why would he suddenly turn on his dad? That’s literally his family. I can’t help but feel like there’s something I’m missing. It doesn’t entirely make sense to me.
Then again, I don’t know him all that well. When we spent time together going on Ezra’s runs, he didn’t speak much. If he did talk, it wasn’t anything personal. I don’t have any sort of grasp on how his mind works, if I’m being honest.
I can tell that Arielle is still mad at me. I’ll admit, I didn’t think she be as angry as I think she is. I’m not a moron, I knew she’d be pissed at me to some degree, but not so much as to ice me out like she’s doing now. I picked her up over twenty minutes ago and we’ve been in the car together ever since and she’s spoken all of one word to me—Hello.
I don’t know what she’s thinking. I can’t be sure that she understands everything that happened or the reasoning behind it. I pray she does, obviously. However, I’m a bit scared to ask her. I tried inquiring earlier and she shut me down very quickly. It makes me think that it’s likely better to allow her to process her feelings right now as she’s going to. If she has questions, I believe she’ll ask them.
Even though I want to spill my fucking guts. I feel like I need to talk it over with her, just because I want her to comprehend every single thing. I don’t want her to be confused.
It’s only been a short amount of time considering all she learned. She’s still too sensitive about it, and that’s alright. She’s allowed to feel the way she feels. I don’t want to alter her feelings so it makes me feel better. I’d be an asshole if I did so.
I love her like a heart loves blood. Like a tree loves the rain. Like a camera loves film. We’re two separate bodies, beings, things, but we’re so interconnected, that I don’t live without her. I can’t survive. It simply isn’t possible.
I hope in time she comes to realize this.
I think deep down she feels the same. I just pray that what I’ve done to her hasn’t changed that. It’d kill me if it did.
I almost wish I could crawl into the depths of her chest. To build a home there, until I’ve deposited all of my love there. I don’t want her to ever forget how much I love her. How I’d give up anything and everything to make sure she feels safe and loved.
This is why we’re on our way to confront Ezra. Now that Ezra has apparently fallen from his reign, we’re no longer walking into the lion’s den. He’s alone, frail, and by the sounds of it, not entirely with it anymore. Langley mentioned he’s easily confused at times and that it’s probably from the heavy doses of poison Vivien inflicted on him.
I truly don’t know how she failed at killing him.
As I pull into the parking lot, I’m reminded of the few times I have been here. Not a single one of them went well. I’ve always left this place feeling pissed and deflated. I stop in the stall closest the doors, shutting off the engine. The rumble of it was the only thing easing the silence between us, so when it’s gone, it becomes deafeningly quiet.
Which is why it surprises me when Arielle finally speaks to me, “If this shit turns south, who’re we gonna’ call?”
“Ghostbusters?” I tease, unable to wipe the smile from my face.
When I glance at her, I notice she’s cracked the smallest smile. However, the moment she realizes I’m observing her, she hides it and moves to get out of my Camaro.
That’s another thing that’s been shitty to deal with—my Skyline. It was damaged in the accident and ultimately trashed to continue on with our little charade. It fucking sucks. That car meant a lot to me. But it doesn’t mean more than her, so I can learn to live without it.
She doesn’t bother waiting for me when she gets out of the car. In fact, she gets to the front door before I’m able to lock the car. I jog to catch up with her, wanting to make sure she doesn’t ever feel alone doing this.
We both want to do this—to be able to rub in his face—but I don’t want to put her in any danger. Fuck, I just hid out in a basement with little to no human contact for six months to keep her out of Ezra’s schemes.
As we enter, I try my best to avoid her and give her some space, but our skin is practically fucking magnetized. I want to grab her hand and lace our fingers together more than I need my next breath.
Ezra’s compound—which used to be filled with security—is empty. There isn’t a single guard at the door, the metal detectors aren’t in commission anymore, and even though the cameras are still up in the entry, I’m positive they aren’t running.
It’s astoundingly quiet, enough so to make my ears do that annoying ringing thing. The only thing audible is our sneakers echoing down the hallway as we walk towards his office.
Arielle looks like a goddess entering the gates of hell.
She grabs a handle in each hand, swinging open both doors at once, making sure to push hard enough that they bounce off the walls. He lifts his chin at the intrusion and he remains stoic, until his eyes meet mine from where I tower over Arielle.
The corner of my mouth lifts in a smirk.
Him coming to the realization that I’m not dead—that Vex didn’t kill me—hits him as if I’ve slapped him across the face. That single moment, where his façade cracks and it becomes obvious that, for once, we’ve caught him off guard makes me forget everything I’ve been through. Those ten seconds make all of it worth it.
He’s quick to slip the mask back on, leaning forward in his chair to swipe his finger over the trackpad on his laptop, as if our presence is distracting him from the work he’s pretending to do.
His cold stare—which once would’ve punched through my chest and paralyzed my heart—doesn’t affect me. In his weakened state, I almost feel pity for him.
I’m thirsting to dig my nails into him and rip off the poker face to peek behind it.
He’s sitting as his desk and I both hate and love the fact that I’m so turned on by the wooden piece of furniture. It only reminds me of my dream where Arielle’s and my mixture of cum oozed from her pussy and onto the surface of his desk. And how I want to relive it one day.
Just, y’know, not when Ezra’s sitting behind it.
I follow Arielle until she stops in front of him where I’m finally able to properly see him. He looks like complete and utter shit. He looks overly tired, in a way that isn’t only from stress or lack of sleep. He’s lost a considerable amount of weight, and I don’t miss the sight of a cane leaning beside him. He’s easily aged at least a decade, if not more, since I saw him last. I also notice the faint sight of still-healing scratches on his face across his eye.
I don’t know what it is about the visual wound on his face, but it sends a chill up my spine.
From movies and shows I’ve seen, I can only assume it’s likely from Vivien’s fingernails digging into his skin as she fought for her life. The three long, diagonal stripes make it obvious. It’s eerie as fuck—a constant reminder of how evil he truly is.
I hope it fucking scars so every time he looks in the mirror, he’ll be forced to remember what a piece of shit he is for laying his hands on a woman.
I stand beside Arielle, in a position where I’m ready to step in front of her if need be. I have no fucking clue what’s about to happen or how Ezra is feeling. Considering he’s been double crossed by his wife, I think he’s going to be rather unpredictable and angry.
He nods in Arielle’s direction and then mine, stating our names blandly. “What can I help you with?”
“Cut the shit, Ezra.”
He chuckles, but it’s forced. He’s pretending that us being here right now isn’t irritating the fuck out of him. In reality, I can spot the flush that has crept up his neck.
“Why don’t you just tell me why you’re here? Instead of wasting my time. I’m a very busy man.”
“Ah, yes, I saw the lineup of men outside your door,” I retort in a snark. Out of my peripheral, I swear that Arielle smirks at the sound of that.
“Don’t worry, Ezra, this won’t take long.”
He finally snaps his laptop shut, folding his hands together on top of it. “Since you want to rub my face in it, I’ll just wait for you to explain it.” Then he sits backwards, relaxing into his chair. “Might as well. I wouldn’t want you to waste the trip.”
“Where do you want us to start?” I inquire. “The moment we fucked you over? The second we made an idiot out of you? Or would you rather we discuss you strangling Vivien?”
I think he’s surprised we are aware of that last fact, but he hides it well.
“Why don’t you start with who Vex was before I fired a bullet between his eyes?”
“You mean the man who fucked you over and who didn’t kill Nate like he’d told you he did?”
He narrows his eyes only slightly. “I realize the two of you think you had planned some grandiose scheme, but that’s pretty obvious considering you’re standing here. You’re not as smart as you think.”
Arielle shifts uncomfortably, “Neither are you.”
He seems amused at her accusation. “The whole gotcha! thing you’re trying, it isn’t working. Try again. C’mon, now. Give it your best shot.”
“Did you know that Vex was an undercover cop?”
To cover his surprise, he clears his throat, feigning as if he’s straightening some paperwork on his desk. When he regains his composure, he tells me, “Nate and Arielle working with the cops.” He hums. “I never thought I’d see the day you two became rats.”
“I’m not a fuckin’ rat. I didn’t know anything ab—” Arielle stops talking when she realizes she’s revealing too much.
Ezra runs his tongue along his teeth. He’s figured it out. She doesn’t need to finish the sentence. With how little she’s uttered, he’s pieced the puzzle together.
Silence falls amongst us. I want to speak up and say something to detract from what Arielle’s said. To draw attention to another topic so Ezra forgets, but my brain fucking freezes up.
“How many men would sacrifice all that you have?” Ezra inquires.
“I didn’t sacrifice,” I assure him. “I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“Are you sure about that?” He wears this evil smirk, as if he knows something we don’t.
“The fuck are you talking about, Ezra?” Arielle inquires.
Is this what Langley was talking about with the poisoning making him confused?
“Ever since you’ve stepped in here, I couldn’t help but notice—” he pauses, assumingly for dramatic effect. “You’re not all over each other. In fact, Arielle, you’ve barely glanced in Nate ‘s direction.”
“So what? Because we aren’t fucking in front of you, you jump to the conclusion that—what? We’re separated?” I snap the words at him, not wanting him to catch onto the fact that he’s technically correct.
He runs his tongue along his teeth in a smirk. “What I’m suggesting is that Arielle didn’t take well to your little stunt and now she’s making you pay for it. She doesn’t want anything to do with you, so in the end, I won.” He says the last part with a nonchalant shrug.
“Yeah?” I tease.
In an instant, I turn towards Arielle, closing the space between us and descend my mouth upon hers. One hand threads into the hair at the base of her neck as I bring her lips to mine, the other finds home on her waist.
She gasps into the kiss, her fingers grabbing hold of my shirt.
Her kiss makes me feel like my blood has been replaced by petrol and is coursing through my veins. Arielle’s lips are fire, lighting me up and making me feel completely out of control.
It’s been so fucking long since I’ve been able to touch her that it makes this feel a thousand times more intense. I can feel every minute movement her body makes—from the way her pulse quickens, to the way her lungs rapidly intake air, and the way she leans into my touch the tiniest bit.
Because even though she’s mad as hell at me and she’s doing her best to pretend like she doesn’t want physical contact between us, I know she’s lying to herself. I can see it in her face every time we’re together.
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