“I want it all,” he says while un-cuffing my hands, the sound of the metal hitting the deck with a startling thud. I’m spun around, then he lifts me up and brutally attacks my mouth while carrying me to my bed, where we fall and bounce before our limbs tangle together. His large body on top of me, his mouth consuming mine, my tongue drinking his necessary taste mixed with mine greedily. His jeans the only barrier separating us.
“Riddick, please,” I beg.
“Are you on birth control?” he asks, stands up, and gives me the best view of his chiseled body. My legs spread on their own. I want him so badly I can feel it in my bones, to wherever the deepest root begins inside of me begins. He’s mine.
My chest is heaving, aching in a deliciously painful way. Just like his. I can see it in his eyes. The fight to believe the difference between the here and now and an agonizing past.
“Yes,” I answer. I’m not bothering with asking him if he’s clean. I know he would never do anything to hurt me or to jeopardize what’s rebuilding between us.
His eyes are like saucers as he scans them up and down my body. His hands are shaking no less than mine when he fumbles with his zipper, drops his jeans, and gives me the pleasure of seeing his very thick cock. Bigger than I remember. Even more beautiful, too. He’s the only man who can quench my thirst. Create a sinner out of the woman he calls an angel. God help me, because right now I don’t feel like one. I want him to fuck me, make love to me, to allow me to touch, to feel him everywhere.
“Christ, I can’t take this. My heart feels like it’s fighting to stay inside of my chest. Cora, my God.”
“Come here, Riddick.” My arms are lifting for him to come to me. He does. Reality, it’s a fickle thing. Two people who were torn apart, both believing the other was dead. Reality becomes a beautiful existence when you realize it was all a lie; your love is still strong; your love created a child.
“I’ve always belonged to you. Make me yours. We’re really together.” He stays nuzzled into my neck for the longest time, not speaking, only clinging to me tight. Our bodies are aligned, breathing each other into our souls, our minds, and our hearts.
“I need to see all of you,” he suddenly mumbles, then flips us over, taking us to the head of my bed. I straddle him when he sits completely up, his back firm against my headboard; his long legs stretched out down the length of my bed.
“Mmm,” I say when he comes out of his daze, his erection thrusting upward.
“Ride me,” he commands roughly.
“I may want to taste you first,” I challenge.
“Not this time. I need to feel you.”
“You mean this?” I begin to move back and forth, coating him with my desire. He growls, lifts a brow, and this is when I know he’s serious. There’s no more sweet talk, no more regrets. No heartache. Wanting takes over. Needing prevails. I wrap my hand around his silky length. Line him up and slowly sink down onto his long hard shaft. I gasp out in pleasure as he teases me with a swivel of his hips. A long, drawn-out, muffled sob escapes me. The pleasure of being stretched by the man I love when I’m the tightest and most sensitive has me pointing my toes, muscles taut and body slicked with sweat. It’s so overbearing that tears form; they escape, but I do nothing about them. I move up and down. Heartwarmingly slow. Emotionally gentle.
“I love you. I do,” I say through a long, deep slam of my hips. He bucks, his hands palming my breasts, and the heaviest sigh escapes his mouth.
“Ditto,” he replies.
We touch, we move. His fingers circle my nipples into the hardest of peaks, while I lift and grind, moan and murmur. The caring of what society may call incapable of two people still loving each other after what we’ve been through is flying out my open window as we make love in a way like never before. Hard and fast one minute. Soft and slow the next.
“You need to get there, Angel. I need to see you fall apart. Need to feel you come.” He flips us over. My knees bend, feet sturdy on the bed. He’s so deep, so long with every blissful stroke. I run my hands through his hair. It’s unbelievably silky. When I push it back from his face to catch his eyes, my throat strains for words when he tries to speak. My heart swells to the outer walls of my chest. He’s crying. This big, strong man isn’t afraid to show me all the years of his heart being captive and now set free to love me once again through his tears.
“I love you so fucking much.” He smiles crookedly. It’s a beautiful thing to hear, a beautiful sight to see.
I blink my tears away. I lift my hips and come as he stills inside of me, the warmth of his pleasure spilling, blending with mine.
“You okay?” Riddick’s eyes flash down to mine. It’s early in the morning. The sun has barely risen. The warm breeze is blowing in. Neither one of us has slept. We talked, made love, talked some more, and then he did fuck me raw and dirty, leaving me so sore that I don’t want to get out of bed.
He explained to me what he and Ethan were talking about when I zoned out. I was right in speculating that it had to do with the two of them going to the points to surf. He chuckled when I asked him what they had said. They were working out the time to go, while I stood there dreaming about getting laid. He knew, too, knew my mind was thinking of him instead of paying attention. After a hard smack in the chest from me, he asked if I wanted to go. I happily declined. They need time together. To bond. To know each other. This is Riddick’s and Ethan’s time.
“Couldn’t be better.” He curves a thought-provoking eyebrow as if he could think of something better than me lying naked in his arms. “What?” I muse. Mulling over the mysterious glint in his eyes, the soft feel of his beard when he had his face buried between my thighs last night and this morning. Damn, he looks incredibly sexy. Downright edible with almost every square inch of his body covered in colorful tattoos, a handsome face and virile chest, a gleam in his eye, and hard steel arms that are holding me tight. He’s up to something.
“You realize we’ve never been on a date?” He smirks at me, and my stomach flutters. Riddick is right, we haven’t. We couldn’t go out in public when we were younger since we were forbidden. And now we can; we can do anything we want. Go anywhere. Simply just be. It’s as if time has frozen for one split second. A conversation similar to this one pops into my mind. He said the same thing to me once. How he wished we could go out, be seen. Tell the entire town that in spite of the rumors of his father killing my parents, we were two teenagers in love; and if we could overcome it, then they as adults should as well. We were never given that chance.
“Oh. Does this mean you’re asking me out? I mean, I’ve already proven I’ll give you whatever you want, so dating is irrelevant at this point, don’t you think?” He groans, lifts me up and over him. His hardness is pressing into my stomach. I lay my hands on his chest, my eyes fluttering to render my innocence.
“Temptation got you fucked last night. Don’t tempt me, my naughty little angel. I’ll fuck you until the only choice you have to get out of this bed is to crawl. So, yes, I’m asking you out. Just me and you.”
“Okay. Where will we be going?” I agree. My insides are dancing and jiggling about as I watch him reach up and stretch his arms above his head before bringing them down to grab my ass. I sigh. I fizzle, and I may internally blow up with the detonator button being my clit.
“You’ll see,” he utters. Voice stating it’s a secret. Whatever. I’ll go wherever he wants me to go as long as we’re together.
“Tell me about these?” I coax those words out with ease as I outline the spider web tattoo around one of his nipples. He laughs. I scowl.
“I’m serious. Do any of them have a special meaning?” I ask seriously this time. “I bet I could get off just by standing in the shower watching you wash these.” I trot on seductively.
“Same goes for me with watching you arch your back, your mouth-watering tits with those pink nipples begging me to suck them as you wash your hair.” He lifts his hand, tugs my hair out of the confines of the band, and
pulls so that my neck is exposed.
“None of them have a particular meaning. I started with every intention of the first being it. One led to two; then before I knew it, I had a full sleeve. I’m addicted to getting them just like I’m addicted to you,” he voices gruffly.
I kiss him then, his hands stroking my back, his hardness pressing into me. His tongue takes control. I feel the muscles in his abs contract and tic beneath me while every part of me spirals with need. I want to touch, to taste more than I did last night. I want to explore, to feel, and to watch him lose his mind.
Lightly, I nibble on his bottom lip, tracing my tongue down the grove of his chin, beard tickling, hair prickling the farther I go.
“Angel.” His voice low, warning. I ignore him. Completely. This is my mission, and I want to taste it all before I get to the target that proves just how much of a man he is. I lick across one nipple, trace a path to the other, down the speckled trail of hair on his chest, all the while hearing his hushed pleas for me to stop.
My hand grabs his engorged cock. His dick jolts from my touch. “Fucking Christ,” he says. He yanks my hair, rotates his hips, and tugs.
“Take it, Angel.”
“I intend to.”
The minute my lips touch him, our eyes lock. I watch him stare down into the bottom of my soul. It spurs me on. Tempts me to take all of him in my mouth, swirling, licking, and enjoying the musky taste of sex. Me and him.
“Goddamn,” he hisses out. I come alive. Exhilarated, freeing, and incredibly turned on knowing I’m bringing the only man I’ve loved gratification in the form of pure graphic hunger.
My hand moves up and down in a spiraled motion, my head pairing in a perfect measure.
I feel him tense, his dick pulsing when I slowly and deliberately lick and nibble up the thick vein under his shaft. That’s all it takes for me to wrap my lips back around his head, sucking greedily, hastily, until his cum fills my mouth. His cussing fills my ears. I swallow, then sit up with a satisfied smirk.
“An angel with a wicked mouth,” he expresses with glazed-over, satisfied eyes.
“Don’t you forget it.” I rise up and pad my way to the shower, my finger curling for him to follow. He does follow, straight to the shower, where I come hard while washing my hair.
“I hate to go.” Riddick grazes my cheek after we showered.
“I know. Me too. Go. He’ll be up and barreling through your door soon enough.” Happiness duels with fright across his handsome features. His Adam’s apple bobs. He’s scared.
“Shit. Is there anything I need to know about him? Allergies, stuff like that?” The want to go with them claws at my senses. Not for me, but for Riddick. He’s nervous when he shouldn’t be at all. But I’m not going. I’m giving him this.
“No. He’s not allergic to anything. He’s eleven, Riddick, not two. I told you last night he adores you. What you’re doing for him today, he will never forget. Make memories. Follow your heart. Let him see the compassionate, kind man you are. Being with your child comes naturally, Riddick. Not all kids are lucky to have someone like you, who fell in love with them the minute they found out about their existence. You love him; you’ll be fine.” I splay my hands over his beard-covered cheeks, and place whisper-soft kisses across his chin. “He’s your son. Enjoy him.”
12
CORA
“You little bitch. You got laid. No, I take that back, you got thoroughly fucked.” I stagger backward. Dumbfounded as well as rolling my eyes when Vivian and my mom come barreling in the kitchen, interrupting my pleasant thoughts after Vivian worked all night. I felt bad for not checking my phone last night for messages from either one of them. When I did and saw one from my mom asking me how the day went, I quickly sent one back asking her to come over this morning. Then I read Vivian’s, where she said she went to help Dad deliver an emergency C-section, which made me instantly feel guilty for missing work. That guilt quickly dissipated when everything that was said and done between Riddick and me last night hit me full force.
I wanted to lie on his chest and listen to his heartbeat all day long. To familiarize myself with his features, to run my fingers through his hair, to fall asleep in his arms. Experience many first important things that a couple does together that we weren’t able to all those years ago.
Then he left to get ready for his day, while I sat there in a pool of guilt knowing we could have had this all along if I had stood up to my brother. No matter what I do or say, I will never forgive myself for being weak, for not seeking someone out to help me. I’ll live with it for the rest of my life. However, living with the guilt, the shame, and the heartbreak that I could have prevented is better than living without Riddick. So I tucked it away. Decided it’s time to be happy and told myself we deserve to make up for lost time. Deserve to be together and I’m worthy of this man’s forgiveness. Even if I’m unable to forgive myself.
“Vivian, you are terrible. One of these days that mouth of yours is going to get you in a hell of a lot of trouble.” Mom shoves her to the side, knocks her in her shoulder when she passes, and clucks her tongue while she revels in putting Miss Sassy Pants in her place.
“Ha. I’d like to see someone try,” Vivian objects. Her provoking features are curling in disgust. I’ve yet to see a man who can put this smart-mouthed, little hot-tempered woman in her place. She’s one of those people who always has to have the last word. We know her so well that we let her have it. It would be a sight to see a man go head to head with her. I’d even pay him on the sly to bend her over his knee and spank her little ass. Knowing Vivian, it would turn her on, and that would lead to a whole new disaster.
“She’s right, though. You did, didn’t you?” I smile, ignore my sister’s flapping mouth, and wrap my arms around Mom’s tiny waist. A sniffle escapes her throat as I do.
“I’m sorry. This is actually funny when a mother is happy that her daughter got laid,” Vivian boasts, tosses her purse on the table, reaches for a mug, and pours herself a cup of coffee. Somehow the smile on my face erupts into a full-blown laugh. Mom’s shoulders shake, her laughter mixing with mine, and the next thing I know Vivian is joining in. The three of us stand there in a circle, arms around each other, tears in our eyes, laughing uncontrollably.
“Well, what can I say?” She shrugs. “I’ve seen the photos you took of him the other day. The man is incredibly handsome and that body… My God. Next time, though, snap a picture of his ass. I bet that part of his body would make a woman want to stand on her head to look at it from all angles.”
“Mother,” I snip, aghast. My mouth is dangling open from the truth. His ass is perfect from every angle. Sharp and defined.
“I’m kidding. I won’t look at his ass, at least not with you in the room. His friends on the other hand, especially the one with glasses; now, that man has an ass.” She’s telling the truth there. Frankly, they all do. I know because I snuck a peek when Riddick wasn’t looking. Not that he’d care. The guy doesn’t have a jealous bone in his body.
“Vivian, are you all right?” I ask when she chokes on her coffee, the brown liquid dripping down her chin.
“Yup,” she replies sharply. I study her; she’s off this morning. Something seems to be bothering her. She looks tired, but that’s not it. Her hands shake as she pours the rest of her coffee down the drain then stands with her back to us pretending to wash the mug.
“I don’t need to know the details. I only want to know that you’re happy, and by the expression written on that glowing face of yours, I would say yes,” Mom declares, kissing my forehead, then pulling away to pour herself a cup of coffee. She’s completely oblivious that her other daughter is standing beside her on the verge of tears.
“I’m going to shower. I want every detail after she leaves,” Vivian tries to joke. I see right past it all. The façade she’s trying to pull off. She will be telling me what the hell turned her into an unrecognizable woman to me; she looks as if she could cry.
“Oka
y, sweetie, enjoy it. Get some sleep, too,” Moms says sweetly.
“I will. Don’t forget, details.” She fake smiles before exiting the kitchen, leaving a cold trail of air behind her. We most assuredly won’t be talking about me when she’s done. Something has upset her. Terribly.
She’s not the kiss-and-tell type of girl, and frankly, I’m quite boring in the detail department, which leaves the only other man I’ve had in my life to talk about. Seth. Oh God, Seth. I have to tell him. He shows up whenever he wants to see Ethan. I would hate for him to walk in without knowing what the hell is going on. I want him to know that Ethan still needs him, too. Their friendship means the world to him, and I know he cares a great deal about my son. I’ll call as soon as I’m done talking to these two.
“So,” Mom says nonchalantly after Vivian is out of earshot. “What did you want to talk about? Is it Ethan? Where is he, by the way? Usually, he’s barreling down the stairs when I get here.” She peers her head around the corner, causing me to stifle a laugh. I place my hand over my chest, grab my mug, and sit at across from her at the table.
“Well,” I say, “Ethan is spending the day with Riddick. They went surfing. You should have seen him, Mom. He hasn’t been this excited about anything. He… he’s going to be okay. Ethan’s father is alive, and my son is the happiest I’ve ever seen him,” I breathe out, and once the first tear of my own happiness breaks free, the others follow in an endless stream. I sob these tears of joy with a heart so full it’s impossible to ignore. Impossible to believe.
“Oh, honey. You get all those pent-up emotions out. Crying is good for the soul. Especially when they are washing away all the ugly; with each new tear you shed a showering of beauty replaces the old. Come here, sweetheart.” She opens her arms, meeting me halfway.
“Mom. I’m so happy it terrifies me.” I bawl into her hold.
“I bet you are. Only you know how you feel, what to do. If you asked me here for my approval, then you have it. You’ve always had it, Cora. If you wanted to talk to me because the man you love suddenly appeared after all this time of you thinking he was dead, in addition to the two of you picking up where you left off, that’s something I can’t answer. Only you can. I will say this, if you’re second-guessing what others may think, then don’t. This is your story, your life. His. Ethan’s. Anyone else can go screw themselves. The opinion of those two are the only ones who matter; and by the sounds of it as well as the way your face was glowing when we walked in here, I would say you answered all your questions on your own.” Oh God. She’s right. I nod, then hang on to her tight, closing my eyes as I do. I wonder what my birth parents would think. Would they be happy for me? I used to be angry with them for dying, for the life they led to cause someone to kill them. Now I know everything happens for a reason. Being in a gang that straight up performs illegal activities or calls the shots in a town wasn’t a life meant for me, or a place where I would want to raise my son. Even though I wish they were still on this earth, I believe I’m right where I was meant to be. In the arms of a wise woman who loves me.
Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection Page 19