by Belle Aurora
My smiled turned timid. I found I kind of wanted to do it simply because it would please him.
But I couldn’t.
Could I?
No.
I shook my head and typed fast.
Me: Behave, Daddy.
When his response came in, my stomach clenched in time with my pussy.
Tony: Yeah, baby. That’s right. I like it when you call me Daddy.
My lips parted as a quiet squeak left my throat, and in my mind, I hated that I heard him speak the filthy words into my ear.
I should not have found that arousing.
Why was that so hot?
Almost immediately after that,
Tony: Gotta go. We’ll continue this later.
No. Come back!
But what I actually replied was,
Me: Miss you both already x
And I did.
I really did.
***
Ling
The woman in bed with me moaned with pleasure as I closed my lips around one pink nipple and sucked on the stiff peak. Her tits were perfect, just like the rest of her. So what if she was different? So was I. But who the hell was anyone to judge us?
I wanted to show her a good time, a blissful time, because she and I, although different, were fighting the same battles.
People judged us. They persecuted us. We were mistreated and hated on, and the love I showed her in this bed had that big dick energy behind it. The kind of lust that set the stars alight. I wanted to make her come over and over again until her pain was dulled and I was numb.
Numb was good. I could deal with numb.
The woman lifted her head, and breathed, “Ooh, baby. Look at what you do to me.”
Her hand disappeared under the sheets, and when it resurfaced, it was lightly jerking her cock.
I salivated, wanting to wrap my mouth around it so badly, and when she thrust her hips lightly in my direction, her pretty pink lips pouting, I smirked, giving her what she needed. I lowered my head, and as she held out her hard dick to me, I stuck my tongue out and licked all around the head of it, watching her heavily made-up eyes roll back into her head as I laved her stiff heat, licking up the precum I was causing to erupt.
So, yeah, I said no more men, and I meant that. Thankfully, I found a loophole. Which was great for me, because I loved nothing more than a good dicking down.
As I took her into my mouth, her hips jerked, forcing me to take more of her into my mouth, and I felt her gratitude in every shallow thrust she gave as she fucked my mouth. Her panting grew, and when I saw her stomach clench, I released her cock with a pop before replacing my mouth with my hand and jerking it roughly in my hands. “You gonna come, baby?”
“Yeah,” she panted, watching me through hooded eyes as I worked her dick hard.
“Come in me.”
Her eyes glazed over as I presented my ass to her like the gift it was.
Without hesitation, the pretty blonde took her cock in her hands and worked it into my tight asshole. I let out a low moan when she held my hips, digging her long acrylic nails into me as she fucked my snug hole. It didn’t last long though. Within a couple minutes, I felt her seize up, and when she drove into me fitfully, I knew she was too far gone to stop.
“Oh, God,” her sweet voice sounded out. “Oh, shit, baby.” She stopped thrusting, and when she drove into me one last time, I felt her entire body stiffen and I smirked into the sheets. She grunted once and then again, her belly quaking with the force of her orgasm. And I was glad I could give that to her without judgment or shame for being nothing more than the person she was.
It was a hard knock life for those considered different.
I should know.
I led the pack.
“Well, isn’t this nice.”
The woman yelped, scrambling back and pulling the sheets up over us as Aslan stood in the open doorway of the bedroom of my city apartment, his expression completely void of emotion.
I really needed to change the locks.
The poor lady beside me looked mortified.
I, on the other hand, sized my main squeeze up with a lusty look. “You should have called, Az.” I made a show of running my tongue along my top lip before leaning into the woman at my side, squeezing her too-round tit through the sheet. “I would have saved you some.”
Az shook his head, looking far more disappointed than he had a right to be. “Twitch was right,” he said, and my heart stopped.
What did he just say?
What had Twitch said?
When did Twitch say something?
What the fuck was Az doing speaking to Twitch?
His eyes hard, he took a step back and his lip curled in disgust. “You are too damaged to be fixed.”
The words were severe, meant to taunt, and—fuck me—they met their mark.
Oh my fucking God.
It all made sense.
“Twitch warned you away from me.” Not a question. A firm statement.
Motherfucker.
I’d kill him.
I was surprised I managed to keep my tone calm, hiding the fact that I was infuriated. “Since when do you take orders from anyone, Sadik?”
The asshole avoided the question.
“I came here to call a truce.” The beautiful Turk’s lips thinned. “I came to apologize to you, Ling, but now...” His expression turned passive. “Now, I don’t give a shit.” He looked at the woman by my side before turning back to me. “You are a selfish, spoiled little cunt who throws a shit fit every fucking time something doesn’t go her way.” Those midnight eyes assaulted me. “Call yourself a queen?” He huffed out a cruel laugh. “Shame on you. You’re a fucking joke.”
And with that, he turned and walked away.
I sat up straight, letting the sheets fall to my hips, and when I reached under my pillow, the thunderstorm inside me raged with a fury I’d never had the pleasure of experiencing until that very moment.
So when the shot rang out and the woman beside me screamed, Az stood there a moment, motionless as I’d ever seen a person. And that kind of stark stillness was so unnatural a view it frightened me. As the redness began to show, he slowly shuffled around to face me. Reaching up to hold his heart, he swayed on the spot, looking down at the exit wound before gazing up at me, wide-eyed and shocked.
“You crazy bitch,” he muttered weakly. His body shook violently a moment before he wheezed out, “You shot me.”
The sound of his body falling to the ground was one that would haunt me every night in my dreams for all eternity.
“Oh, fuck,” I whispered unsteadily.
I didn’t want to kill him. I didn’t mean to kill him.
Looking beside me at the woman in bed, I uttered a quietly stunned, “I didn’t mean to.”
It just... happened.
And as she looked at me as though I were a fucking monster, she nodded animatedly in agreement, and I knew she thought she was next.
I licked my lips.
She was right.
Lifting the gun, her face fell as she started to cry with the realization that her next breath would be her last, and all I could do was say, “I’m sorry,” as the shot echoed throughout the room. Her naked, lifeless body fell backwards off the bed, and I was thankful she had the graciousness to take her leave from my sight.
What was only moments ago a room filled with the sounds of mutual pleasure was now awash in silence. In a single moment, I lost the love of my life.
My eyes darted from where he lay to the gun in my hand.
He died by my hand. I killed him.
Dropping the gun as if it burned me, it fell to the side of the bed with a dull thud.
I moved, and I don’t know how long passed because it felt as though time had stopped.
As I sat on the edge of the bed, my eyes on the prone body of the man who changed me kiss by gentle kiss, I felt something building. Something bleak and foreboding.
Sorrow.
&nbs
p; The first sob shot out of me like a bullet leaving a gun, hard and fast. Cradling my head in my hands, howling with grief, I hugged myself and rocked quietly, saying the words over and over again like a mantra.
“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to.”
Minutes went by, and as my tears continued to fall, I came to the conclusion that one person was to blame.
Sliding off the bed, I crawled over to him on weak knees and lay by my beautiful Turk, stroking his thick hair. “I’m sorry,” left me quietly as I leant in and pressed my lips to his. Another sob left me. I spoke through the tears, pressing another gentle kiss to his lips, whispering, “Wake up, baby.”
But he wasn’t listening.
My body shook from my place on the floor as my tone became desperate. “Everything’s going to be okay.” I sniffled, and explained, “I just need you to wake up.” I paused at his stillness. “Okay?”
Nothing. “Okay?”
Not a word.
My lips trembled, and I stroked his hair harshly as my voice cracked, “Okay?”
I took a moment to look at him. His open eyes were void and hollow, and his gaping mouth seemed to be frozen on a cry he never got the chance to set free.
Closing my eyes, I let out a low whine before body-wracking sobs took me by force. Tears blurred my vision as I wept openly, pulling him to me and holding him in death as I should have in life.
It was okay. Everything would be okay.
My arms shook around his dead weight. I took in what little warmth he had.
We’d just lie here a while, and tomorrow, everything would be fine.
I cradled his head to my bosom and rocked him gently, putting my lips to his temple as I whispered all the things I wish I’d said yesterday.
Everything would be fine.
Unfortunately, everything was not fine.
My eyes swollen from the crying, I looked up as my brother entered the bedroom, his eyes looking from Aslan’s cold, lifeless body to me then back again. He swallowed hard, running a hand down his face, as he uttered a quiet, “Ling....”
I know.
It was bad.
As I crouched in the corner of the room, wearing nothing but my bloodstained skin, I said the only thing I could.
“It was an accident.”
Regretfully, the gunshot wound to his back said differently.
My brother blinked at me a moment before his feet moved and he crossed the room. Van knelt in front of me, taking a soft hand and cupping my cheek before attempting to pick at the bloodstained hair that had dried to my face from when I put my head to Az’s chest in an effort to see if his heart was beating. “It’s okay, Ting-a-Ling.” He lifted me to stand and pulled me into his arms. He held me tightly, rubbing my bare back. “We’ll fix this.”
No.
Didn’t he understand?
This wasn’t something we could fix.
We couldn’t bring him back. Couldn’t make him breathe again, or smile again, or argue with me, or love me with a full heart and an empty mind, damn all the consequences.
My brother snatched the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around my shivering body, pulling me to his side before guiding me out of the bedroom and towards the sofa.
This could not be fixed.
Aslan was dead.
Van sat me down and began to make the necessary phone calls. My gaze turned harsh at the understanding that I would never again hold the man I loved.
And I blamed Twitch.
Chapter
Thirty-One
Lexi
The commotion started as soon as the front door opened, and I listened to it trail the hallway, settling into the family room. From inside the bathroom in my Pikachu slippers, I stopped applying mascara when I heard my little man.
“And Squidward is a butthead, but SpongeBob doesn’t care. He likes him anyway,” explained A.J. enthusiastically.
“Why is he a butthead?” asked Twitch.
“I don’t know. He gets mad and doesn’t like people. He likes his clarinet,” A.J. went on, “The boss, Mr. Krabbs, is a butthead too. He likes money and he’s a crab, but his daughter is a whale and she cries a lot.”
Twitch sounded maddened. “The fuck kind of show is this?” I heard a huge thud, then squeaking, and Twitch muttered, “Off the couch, little dude. Your mom’s not gonna dig that.”
More squeaking. More bouncing. Then A.J.’s voice rose excitedly as he jumped on the cushions. “I like it. It’s funny. Patrick is silly. Daddy,” he panted as he kept jumping, “can we watch SpongeBob?”
Twitch didn’t speak for a moment, but when he did, I heard trouble brewing in his tone. “A.J.” he began, “I said off the couch.”
Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like our son was in the mood for listening, and the loud, grinding squeaks continued, followed by the little monster’s puffing and panting, and I listened as A.J. ignored his father. “Mum lets me watch it in the mornings before school. Can we?”
“Off the couch,” he tried again, his tone deceptively calm.
The creaking and squeaking continued as A.J. burst out with, “Oh!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, “Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?”
The entire house shook as Twitch hollered, “Get off the couch!”
It was so loud that the silence that followed almost echoed off the walls.
When I heard the squeaking stop, my heart began to race.
My first instinct was to fly out of the bathroom with guns blazing and tear the handsome man a new asshole. But the social worker in me told me to wait and see how this played out.
With a heavy heart, I waited.
At the sound of A.J.’s breath hitching, my insides coiled tight, and when Twitch let out a groan, followed by an apologetic sounding, “Oh, buddy. I’m so sorry. C’mere,” little footsteps rushed over, and when I peeked out of the bathroom, I found Twitch on his knees, cradling our son to him, rocking him from side-to-side as A.J. cried quietly.
And my chest ached painfully.
The parenting gig wasn’t easy. There were plenty of manuals, yes, and everyone had an opinion on how to parent, but it was basically all about experience, and Twitch hadn’t yet had that pleasure.
I needed to understand that he was learning as he went, and some of the lessons would be learned the hard way.
When the man in question kissed our son’s head and sighed before pulling back to catch the little monster’s tears with the backs of his fingers, he explained, “What happened then wasn’t your fault, okay?” A.J. nodded, holding back tears as Twitch went on. “When I was a little boy, some bad things happened to me, and sometimes loud noises do something to my head.” He pointed at his temple and tried to speak delicately. “Sometimes loud noises make Daddy angry, okay? But that’s not your problem, bud.” He touched a gentle hand to A.J.’s jaw, wiping away more tears. “I’m tryin’ to be better.” Twitch pulled our son to him again, hugging him tight. “I’m gonna do better.”
I heard the words he didn’t say.
I’m gonna do better... for you.
A.J. wrapped his little arms around his father’s neck, and croaked, “I’m sorry.”
I watched Twitch’s heart break. He closed his eyes, pained. “You did nothing wrong. You don’t have to apologize for anything, okay? I’m sorry,” Twitch uttered, placing his lips to the top of his apple-scented head. “I messed up and I’m sorry.” After a long moment, Twitch pulled back and peered down at the sad-looking gremlin. “Are we good, little dude? Forgive me?”
A.J. was an observer. He didn’t always take things for face value, and when he looked into his father’s eyes, he must have seen the sincere apology in them because he nodded slowly, contemplatively, as though he truly believed Twitch was sorry.
As did I.
So when Twitch sighed in relief and stood up to put his hand to A.J.’s head, and muttered, “Go put your bag away. I need to talk to your mom,” I was ready for him.
; He appeared in the doorway of the bathroom looking pale and upset, and when I clicked my tongue, stepping toward him, he met me halfway, wrapping his arms around me tightly as I snaked my own around his waist, pressing myself into him.
My poor baby.
My poor, haunted baby.
Twitch lowered his face into the crook of my neck, and the move had my chest panging so hard I could barely contain it. Reaching up, I stroked the back of his head lovingly and kissed the space above his ear, providing the comfort he needed at that moment.
I held him for a solid minute before he pulled back, straightening and taking a deep breath to steady himself. And I smiled softly. “Hey.”
But he didn’t speak. He simply lowered his face to mine, seeking more comfort from my lips. And I gave it to him.
The kiss was slow, and deep, and full of apology, and when we separated, his eyes seemed less turbulent and more focused. More like himself. And when he covered my mouth a second time, taking my lips in another hard kiss before turning and moving to exit the bathroom, I called out to stop him.
He stilled in the doorway, twisting back to look at me expectantly.
Don’t say it.
Don’t say it.
Don’t say it, Alexa.
“You ever talk to him like that again,” I kept my voice mild, “I’ll have your balls.”
Ah, nuts. You said it.
Twitch looked at me a long moment, his eyes flashing, and when he pounced at me, I squeaked in shock, my heart jolting.
One strong arm came around me tightly, the other sliding down my back, gripping my ass in his firm grasp, biting as he squeezed hard. He growled low in his throat and gently nipped my earlobe before he let out a rough sounding “I love it when you go all mama bear.” He pulled back, biting his bottom lip, his gaze hooded, and when his hand lifted and landed on my ass cheek with a hard slap, I yelped. His eyes flashed a second time, when he rumbled, “Fuckin’ sexy.”
And my vagina swooned dead away.
He left me in the bathroom, alone and horny, and when he came back a short while later, finding me in the exact spot he left me, his eyes crinkled in the corners. “Molly’s gonna watch the monster. I’m takin’ you out to lunch. So—” He checked the solid silver watch. “—be ready in an hour.” He took a step back. “Oh, and baby?”