Always Wanting (Consumed, Book One 1)

by Alex Grayson

  Giving up, I turn on my heel with irritation at another failed attempt to talk with her, when I hear something. I spin back around and step closer to the door. The noise comes again. It almost sounds like a baby crying. I lean my head closer.

  “Abby?” I call through the wood. A second later, I hear the noise again, but louder. It’s not a baby crying, but sounds like a loud whimper.

  Panic starts to set in, and I grab the handle, expecting to have to kick the door in, but am surprised when the knob twists. I push open the door and am met with darkness. I strain my ears, listening for the whimpers again, not sure who or what I’ll find. A loud wail comes from the dark hallway, and I sprint in that direction. It dies down to cries, and I follow it to the master bathroom. Sweat beads on my forehead when I quickly push open the door. My eyes adjust to the light and zero in on the naked woman that’s huddled in the tub, her back to the wall, with water spraying down on her. I run over and squat down beside the tub.

  “Abby?” I ask, trying to gently draw her attention to me being in her bathroom. I do a quick scan of the parts of her body I can see, and notice no physical injuries.

  When she lifts her head, I suck in a sharp breath at the sight of her. Her lips are blue, her eyes are glassy, and her face is as white as a ghost. Looking more closely at her, I see her whole body is pale and covered with goose bumps.

  “What in the hell have you done?” I demand, the question coming out harsher than I’d intended. She doesn’t respond, just looks at me with dull eyes that are filled with unbearable pain. She’s shaking so bad, her teeth are chattering.

  I quickly turn off the spray and notice the water is icy cold. Reaching out my hand, I grab the towel that’s on the rack behind me, before stepping forward and placing it over her shoulders. Fear implants itself inside me at the feel of her deathly cold skin. She still hasn’t said anything, or attempted to move.

  When I bend down to pick her up, she gives off a pitiful cry, the sound coming off as broken, like she’s cried for hours and is losing her voice. My heart splinters in my chest at the sound.

  “I’m so sorry, baby, but I need to get you out of the shower and warm you up.” I hate that I have to cause her more pain, but I need to bring her body temperature up.

  Without waiting for permission, I continue to lift her. She whimpers and gives soft cries as I stand, breaking my fucking heart. I move as slow and carefully as possible to the bedroom, trying not to jostle her too much. She’s so cold, it’s seeping through my clothes and sending shivers down my own body.

  I manage to get the comforter and sheet pulled away and lay her down, gently. I wrap the covers around her to her chin and move out into the hallway, where I saw a small door. Grabbing two more thick blankets from the linen closet, I carry them to the bedroom. Except for her heavy shivers, she still hasn’t moved. I place both blankets on top of her and start stripping off my clothes. Once I’m naked, I pull the covers back and crawl into bed with her. Rolling her to her side, I snuggle my chest against her back, wrap my arms and legs around her cold ones, and pull her tight against me. Her ice-cold flesh brings chill bumps to the surface of my skin. I bury my face in her neck, breathing warm air against her.

  I lay with her cocooned in my arms for several minutes. Each whimper she makes, causes my chest to hurt right along with her. She’s as stiff as a board, except her fingers and toes. I can feel her wiggle the digits repeatedly over and over again, likes she’s fidgety, but is afraid of moving.

  After another ten minutes, the shivers lessen and her teeth are no longer chattering. Her soft cries can still be heard, but at least she’s warming up. She starts moving her legs restlessly against mine, her hands open and close against my forearms.

  “Blue,” Abby croaks out. “Please, make it stop.”

  “What, Abby?” I murmur, my stomach clenching. “Tell me what’s wrong. Tell me how to stop it.”

  She pushes my arms away and turns around to face me. My arms go back around her, bringing her naked chest to mine. I’m relieved to see some of the color has come back to her cheeks, and her lips are no longer blue. Her skin is also no longer freezing to the touch. But her eyes, they still carry a world of pain.

  Her leg lifts over my hip, and I’m surprised when she grinds herself down on my thigh. What surprises me more is the wetness that she leaves behind. There is no way she could be turned on right now. Not with how I found her, and the obvious pain she’s still in.

  I gaze down into her eyes and see desperation in their depths. “Fuck me. Please, just fuck me, and make the pain go away.”

  I rear back, shocked as shit she wants to have sex right now. I just found her half-frozen and in pain. How can sex be on her mind right now?

  Keeping my arms securely around her, I lean my head back further to get a better look at her face.

  “What?” I ask, not holding back the surprise in my tone. “How can you think about sex right now, Abby? You were damn near in shock in the shower barely ten minutes ago.”

  Her eyes plead with me as she takes my hand and pushes it between our bodies until it reaches the apex of her thighs. I’m still in disbelief that she wants sex, that I don’t try to pull my hand away. Confusion hits when my hand meets her thighs that are soaked with her arousal. She pushes my hand against her pussy, and it too is drenched.

  What the hell is wrong with this woman?

  Her eyes fill with tears, before they leak out onto her cheeks. Her brows pinch down in pain, and she bites her lip so hard, I see blood. She presses my hand harder against her center, grinding my palm against her clit. What’s fucked-up is I’m still not pulling my hand away, and my dick is getting hard. She feels it against her stomach and releases my hand to grab my length. I hiss out a harsh breath. Her hand is still cool, but also feels like heaven against my hardening manhood.

  “Please, Colt,” she whispers on a cracked moan. “It’s the only thing that will help.”

  What the fuck? I look down into her eyes. The way she finally says my name on her own, and the anxiety in her voice tells me she’s serious. She really believes having sex with me will end her pain. This is insane. But even as I think it, my cock grows even harder. I’m just as fucked-up as she is.

  Her eyes squeeze closed, and a low cry leaves her lips. Her hips buck against my hand. I need to pull it away, but I don’t. For some odd reason, I keep my hand on her pussy. I don’t put my fingers inside of her, but I don’t stop her from pushing against my hand, either. I feel like an asshole because I’m not stopping her. We shouldn’t be doing this right now. I should get out of bed, before it goes too far, and demand she tell me what the hell is going on. Whatever it is, it isn’t normal.

  “Abby,” I breathe, her hand feeling like magic on my dick. She slides it up and down my length, twisting and squeezing just enough to make my limbs go weak.

  She notices the drop of precum on the tip and pulls back to look down. When she licks her lips, my dick twitches in her palm with the image of her sweet plump lips wrapped around it. Is it fucked-up for me to imagine pushing her to her back, climbing over her until my cock is in her face, and plunging myself past her lips and into her throat? Yes, it is. But I can’t force the images away. Not with her hand where it is, doing what it’s doing, while she watches.

  Clenching my jaw, I remove my hand from her tempting passage and grab hers, stilling her movements. Her eyes jump to mine. When she opens her mouth to speak, I don’t let her.

  “We can’t do this right now,” I say gently. I don’t know why, but I feel like I need to coax her down from something. I just don’t know what. “It’s not right. Tell me what’s wrong, so I can take care of you.”

  I barely get the words out of my mouth, before I’m shoved to my back with a strength I would have never thought her capable of, further shocking me. She throws one leg over my thighs and straddles my hips. Her wet center hits the length of my cock. My hands go to her waist, ready to flip her over, when she bends down and brings her face clo
se to mine. The pain intensifies in her eyes, but there’s a new determination in them as well.

  “That’s what I’m trying to get you to do,” she grits out past the pain, as more tears drop from her eyes and onto my neck. “You don’t understand, and I can’t explain it to you right now. What I need is for you to please, please, just have sex with me. I swear, Colt, I’ll tell you everything after it’s over. Please, do this for me.”

  Her lips tremble, and I feel her body shaking above me. It’s not the cold shakes as before, but the shakes you get when your anxious about something. The pale look her skin carried before is now replaced with a blush that runs from her upper chest up over her face. Her eyes look bloodshot and slightly hollow.

  Through my perusal of her appearance, she shifts her hips, gliding her slick pussy lips along my shaft. My fingers dig into her hips and a low growl leaves my throat. She’s so fucking tempting, and she drives me crazy.

  My resolve is weakening. The imploring look, combined with her rubbing herself on me, pushes me to the edge of reason. What pushes me over—no, what hurdles me over at lightning speed is her lips crashing down on mine. The instant taste of her on my tongue, strawberry flavored bubble gum, shoots me so far past reason, it leaves me dizzy.

  She wants to fuck, and is so desperate for it, she’s willing to give up her rule of no kissing. Well, she can have it. I’ll gladly give it to her as long as she keeps giving me her taste. It’s wrong on every level, I know this, but I’m past fighting it. As weird as it is, she obviously feels this is what she needs.

  The minute her lips touch mine, I open my mouth and slide my tongue against hers. She’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever tasted. I groan and stroke the inside of her mouth, my hands digging into her hips. I nip, lick, and suck her tongue into my mouth, wanting it fused with mine so I can taste her any time I want.

  She pulls her lips away and a growl leaves mine, ready to pull her back against me. Now that I’ve tasted her, knowing how much that rule meant to her, and that she gave it up for me, has me ravenous for her.

  “Now, Blue. I need you now,” she pants, her body twitching above mine.

  “Then put me in, baby. You want this, then you’re taking the lead,” I tell her. No way am I controlling this, not with the way I found her. “And give me back your fucking mouth.”

  Her lips land back on mine and she wastes no time lifting her hips, grabbing my cock, lining it up, and sinking down all the way to the hilt. I swear sparks of light explode in the room, with the feeling of her tight pussy engulfing my length.

  Pulling back, I look up at her, and see that she finally looks relaxed. I watch with renewed worry, concern, and amazement as the tension in her body lessens. I don’t know what the deal is, but as soon as she slid down my shaft, the relief was instant for her.

  She only holds still and basks in whatever glory she’s feeling for a couple of seconds, before her nails dig against my pecs and she lifts her hips, only to slam back down. She cries out, but it’s not in pain. The pleased look on her face can only be described as pleasure. I watch, completely mesmerized with the difference in her.

  Her eyes flutter open and she looks down at me, like I’m the best thing she’s ever fucking seen, as if I’m her savior or some shit. The look has my heart swelling in my chest, and my cock jerking inside of her pussy. Her hair is still damp from her cold shower, but it looks wild, flowing down her back, with small sections covering parts of her tits.

  “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” I whisper, and watch as a pleased smile forms on her face.

  She clamps down on me and my eyes roll to the back of my head. The tightness and pure fucking bliss of feeling her, has tingles flowing throughout my body.

  I help lift her hips to slide back down. I don’t know if it’s possible or not, but I swear it feels like each time she falls back down, her pussy is tighter than before.

  I look down at where we’re connected, and see her juices coating my cock. She’s so wet that it’s seeping out and drenching the small patch of short hairs surrounding my dick. The sight has me lifting her faster, and dropping her back down harder. My heart pounds heavy in my chest, and my erratic breathing matches hers.

  “Colt!” she cries when I lift her and slam her back down as I lift my hips. I clench my jaw and tighten my legs, trying to stave off the orgasm that’s trying to take over my body. I’m so fucking close to blowing my load, but I refuse to go before she does.

  “Abby.” Her eyes focus back on me. “You going to come for me, baby?”

  “Yes,” she whimpers, her mouth falling open on a silent cry.

  “Keep looking at me. Don’t move your eyes away.”

  She doesn’t answer, but I can see from her eyes she heard me. Keeping my own eyes pinned to her, I place my thumb over her clit and apply pressure. She moans and her eyes droop, but she still keeps them trained on me. Her head is tipped down, with her hair falling over her shoulders. The strands tickle my abs, which only adds more to the erotic pleasure I’m feeling.

  Circling her clit, I watch as undeniable pleasure consumes her face. I pump my hips in shallow thrusts. Her walls clamp down on me, impossibly tight. I groan deeply, but manage to keep my concentration on stimulating her clit and fucking her. I apply more pressure to her little nub and am rewarded a second later when her mouth opens on a loud cry. Her pussy spasms, and it sends shock waves through my cock.

  “Fuck yeah,” I growl, the pressure of her amazingly tight pussy drawing my own orgasm to the forefront. My muscles tense so tightly with pleasure, I shake. I have to force my hands to ease up on Abby’s hips for fear of leaving imprints.

  My eyes stay locked on Abby’s face as my body finally gives up the fight. I piston my hips up and force hers back down on me again and again. The slick slide of her soaked pussy feels like heaven and hell, all at once.

  I shout out gruffly when the first strings of my hot cum shoot out, coating Abby’s insides. She shudders above me and moans softly, like she can actually feel the warmth of my release filling her up, and enjoys it immensely.

  Once my body is somewhat back under control, I slide my hands up her sweat-slicked back, tangle my fingers in her hair, and tug her down to me. She lands limply against my chest, her breathing still heavy. She places a soft kiss against my neck, and I smile up at the ceiling. I feel sated, even if my dick is still hard inside her. I gather her hair in my hands and pull her head back. Her beautiful, sleepy green eyes stare into mine. I lean forward and place my lips over hers, pleased when she doesn’t pull away.

  I feel her body stiffen above mine. I pull back and look at her. Instead of the relaxed look her face carried just seconds ago, it’s filled with worry and shame.

  Tucking a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear, I ask, “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry,” she croaks, tears filling her eyes again.

  The look sends shards of ice through my veins. I know what she’s apologizing for, and while I’m not too bothered about the sex part, I do deserve an explanation. Something big is obviously going on here. No one in her position earlier demands sex like she did. It’s just not normal.

  I sit up with her in my lap and swing my legs over the side of the bed. With my dick still snug inside her, I get up from the bed and walk us both into the bathroom.

  “W-What are you doing?”

  I stop and set her ass on the counter, my hands on either side of her hips. Leaning down, I place a small kiss on her lips. “First, I’m going to clean you.” She bites down on her lip. I place my thumb on her chin and gently pull it out of her mouth. “Then, we’re going back to your bed and we’re going to talk.”

  Chapter Eight

  Abby

  I sit and nervously watch Blue move around my bathroom, grabbing a washcloth from the small linen closet and wetting it with warm water. I pick at my nails and fidget uncontrollably. He wants to talk. I know I owe him an explanation, but the thought of revealing my problems to him scares me. He’s the one gu
y I’ve met that I really want to like me, faults and all. I don’t know why it has to be him, but something about him calls to me. Not just my body, but my heart and mind as well. I’m normally the type of girl that doesn’t give a shit about anything. I’ve been ridiculed regarding my issues repeatedly over the years. The walls I surround myself with are hard as concrete, and impenetrable. I never let anyone in, except for my close friends. Not even my family knows. But with Blue, it’s different. I don’t want to let him in, but it’s like I have no choice. These feelings confuse me, and I don’t know what to do with them.

  He walks up to me, his eyes assessing, as he easily steps between my legs. I feel his cum leaking out of me and onto the counter. It feels erotic and sexy as hell, knowing part of him was left behind in my body. Which is another shocker for me. I never go without a condom, and I’ve done it twice already with Blue. I’ve been in a near panic state with other guys before, but I always remember to use a condom. And the kiss. I can’t believe I kissed him. He tasted so damn good, better than anything I’ve encountered before.

  What is it about this guy that makes all reason fly out the window?

  He doesn’t remove his eyes from mine as he lays the warm cloth over my pussy. I can’t help the small moan that escapes my lips as he gently cleans his essence away. Some irrational part of me feels a sense of loss at knowing he’s washing away that vital part of him. It’s crazy, but I want it with me all the time.

  “You okay?” His question is spoken softly, like he’s afraid of scaring me. He should be, because I am scared. Scared at what this man will mean to my future. Scared at the damage I know he could inflict on my emotional state.

  “I’m fine,” I tell him, feeling anything but. I won’t let him see the fear he invokes in me. I won’t make myself that vulnerable. I’ll tell him of my addiction, then watch the revulsion enter his face. He’ll leave, and I’ll be left here alone to wallow in grief.