by Lisa De Jong
I rolled my eyes and snatched the comforter back to climb in. “I take it back. You are a creeper. A full on, eyelash-collecting, panty-sniffing, toenail-munching creeper!”
Blaine stood at the foot of the bed in stunned silence before erupting into gut-busting guffaws. “What the fuck?” he chortled between hoots. “Eyelash-collecting?”
“Yes, creeper. Eyelash-collecting.” I settled into the bed, and turned onto my side with a huff. Away from him.
“Awww, come on, baby.” I could feel the bed dip as he climbed onto the bed. “I’m just teasing you. Don’t get mad. If you really want me, you can have me. I swear,” he snickered.
“Argh! Shut up, Blaine!” I pulled the comforter up to my face, hoping to hide my amused grin at his playfulness.
The warmth and hardness of his body against my back erased all signs of humor from my face. He wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling my frame into his. I noticed that about Blaine. He wouldn’t come to me with his tail between his legs, begging for a treat. He pulled me to him. He made me want to melt into his body, making it known that he was in control and taking what he wanted. I loved it, and the desire to be somewhat dominated scared the living shit out of me.
His soft, warm lips were at my ear, his breath tickling my neck. “Do you forgive me?” A large hand dipped down under the covers and grasped my thigh, sliding upwards before stopping at the imaginary panty line.
“I don’t know,” I breathed.
His hand slowly made its way past my hip before easing under the oversized tee and splaying across my stomach. My head was swimming, and I closed my eyes just to keep from drowning. I felt him all over. The slide of his fingers along my bare skin, his rippled chest flush against my back, his lips teasing my ear, the large stiffness under his pajama bottoms pressing hard against my backside… it was all too much to take. Yet, I wanted more. I wanted to feel all of him, as I wanted him to feel all of me, inside and out.
“How about now?” The very tip of his tongue darted out and traced the shell of my ear. Then his lips were on my neck, gently nibbling.
“Mmmm. Maybe,” I replied breathlessly. Every inch of me was aware and prickly, anticipating what would come next.
“Maybe? Not good enough.”
The moment his hand cupped my left breast, my already puckered nipples hardened until they ached, and I cried out. I couldn’t help it. He teased and rolled the pebbled skin between the calloused pads of his fingers, pulling and flicking gently as if simulating a tongue. His tongue. I wanted it. I needed it. But I was just too damn afraid to say it.
By the time his hand had moved to my right breast, repeating the delightful torture, I was writhing against him in a slow rhythm. He matched my movements, stroking me through his thin pajama bottoms, letting me feel how ready he was for me. I nearly gasped. I had never been with anyone quite that ready before. I mean, he was really, really… ready.
Blaine’s mouth was hot at my ear, his breath as labored as mine. “I need to kiss you. Now.”
In the next instant, he flipped me onto my back, and settled his body atop mine. Blaine’s inked arms enclosed my frame as his knee eased between my legs, slowly parting them. I didn’t have time to protest even if I’d wanted to. His lips captured mine with a hunger I had never experienced before. It was like he needed me to survive. Like kissing me was as necessary as his next breath.
Our lips, our tongues, moved together in perfect harmony. We were music together- melodious, intense and dramatic. His low groans became the bass line as he plucked the strings of my body, producing soft moans and high mewls. My hands were tangled in his hair, as his roamed the soft expanse of my frame, exploring the valley of my waist, the dip between my breasts, the raised peaks of my nipples. We were belly against belly, the hard ridges of Blaine’s midsection melting into the softness of mine.
Feeling his warmth, his body demanding my compliance, felt good. It felt right. And it felt like more. Not just another meaningless sexual encounter. Not a physical response to the opposite sex. Not a means to an end. Blaine was giving me more than just his body. He was filling me with his soul.
His mouth moved down to my neck, licking and sucking a trail down to my chest. The moment Blaine’s studded tongue flicked my nipple, I gasped. Sensation attacked the puckered bud, as he skillfully twirled that barbell around the tip before taking it into his mouth completely. His fingers coaxed the other, simulating the delicious torment of his tongue.
Blaine moaned his satisfaction against my skin, heightening my own arousal for him. With every lick, stroke and suck, he was vocal. He let me know how hot he was for me, and it made me even hotter for him.
Just as I thought I could seriously lose it just from his mouth on my breasts, Blaine lifted his head and looked down at me with hooded, dilated eyes.
“Let me make you come,” he rasped.
O.M.G.
He stared at me for long seconds, before I realized he was waiting for my answer. I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? With every thought centered on Blaine and what he was doing to my body, I couldn’t focus on much else. I knew I wanted him, needed him. But I also knew that crossing this line would only make it that much harder to keep him out of my head. Could I really do that? Could I give him part of me and expect him not to want the rest?
Before my brain could come up with a logical answer, I was nodding. I wanted what Blaine wanted. And that was the only thing that mattered at the moment. Not his past, not my scarred psyche, not the uncertainty of tomorrow. Just him.
His lips were back on me, once again tasting my mouth, my throat, my nipples, and moving south. He licked a trail to my belly button, swirling his tongue around it while easing off the too-large boxer shorts on my hips. I closed my eyes and lifted my backside to aid his efforts, hoping like hell that I wouldn’t regret it.
Though I knew it was coming, the feel of his tongue on my hypersensitive sex nearly made me scream. Never in my life had I felt so utterly exposed and out of control. I didn’t even try to muffle my cries of pleasure. He matched my erotic sounds with his own, the vibrations from his mouth creating a new layer of sensation. He tasted and teased my flesh, the contrast between the feel of hard, slick metal along with the soft texture of his tongue coaxing my orgasm. I knew it would do me in. I knew I would be totally vulnerable once I reached my peak, and dammit, I didn’t care. I wanted Blaine to take me. To claim me. To own every one of my orgasms for the rest of my life.
Blaine didn’t stop when the first waves of pleasure took me under. His tongue, his lips, his fingers… they kept moving, eliciting more tortured sounds during my dramatic downfall. I begged him to stop, yet worked my hips closer. Even as tears streamed down the sides of my face, and I cried his name over and over, he devoured me, demanding I surrender every drop of my defiance. And I let him have it. It was too weak to fight it anymore.
Finally, when I was just a mewling mess of whimpers, Blaine slid beside me, covering my half naked body with the comforter. My eyes were still shut tight, the aftershocks wracking my frame and pushing me into exhaustion. He eased my head onto his chest and squeezed me tight, kissing my face and hair.
“Sleep now, beautiful Kami,” he whispered, just as the walls of my subconscious closed in on me.
Tucked under his arm, his silver threaded nipple just centimeters from my lips, I smiled and did just that.
****
I jerked awake, sweat covering my entire frame. I was warm - too warm. And I wasn’t alone. But the thing that terrified me beyond anything else, the thing that had me hyperventilating, fighting for my next ragged breath was the darkness. It was completely dark. And there was a body wrapped around mine.
NoNoNoNoNo
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even scream. I just knew that I had to get away from here. I had to find the light switch, but my body wouldn’t follow my sleep-fogged brain’s commands. It was already too late.
I was beyond losing it. I was alread
y lost.
Weight lifted off of my chest, and hands gasped my sweat-slicked shoulders. A silent whimper passed my lips. I wanted to cry so badly. I wanted to scream for help. Someone was in this darkness with me, shaking me, calling my name… I had to get away. Bad things happened in the dark. Evil things. Things that had me plummeting toward the bleakest recesses of my mind…
Mommy told me if I stayed quiet, she’d leave a light on for me. She knew how afraid I was of the dark. How it reminded me of the times Daddy would lock me in the closet. He laughed at me. He called me names and teased me for being so scared. My cries only made him keep me in there for longer, but I couldn’t help it.
Sometimes the fear would make me wet myself. Then Daddy didn’t laugh anymore. He’d get his belt and beat my bare, soiled bottom until it was burning with red welts. He said he had to. He said he had to teach me, because he loved me.
Daddy’s love hurts me. I don’t want him to love me anymore.
Afterward, Mommy would put me in the bathtub. Daddy would force her to leave sometimes. She would cry and beg to stay, but he would slap her across the face and tell her to shut up. Then he would close and lock the door. I hated when he closed the door. I knew what was coming. Bad things always happened when Daddy closed the door.
He said he had to give me a special washing with his hands. He said he had to because that’s what daddies did when they loved their daughters. They touched them. I didn’t like it. I never liked it when Daddy loved me. Mommy wouldn’t let him love me for long though. She would beat on the bathroom door until her small hands would bleed. She’d threaten to call the police. Daddy hated that. So he said he had to teach Mommy too. He had to teach her with his fists because he loved her so much…
“Kami! Kami, baby, wake up! Kami!”
A muffled voice pierced the darkness, beckoning, pulling me out of the hell inside my head. I focused every ounce of coherency on his strained voice. I inhaled his familiar scent, and let the feel of his warm skin against mine be a physical reminder.
“Kami! Can you hear me? Oh my God, you’re shaking. Baby, please wake up!”
I concentrated on Blaine’s pleading words and tried to make sense of them. While darkness tried to pull me back under, his voice, his presence, fought to bring me back to him. He kept shaking me, kept calling my name. I wanted to fight too. I wanted – needed - to find my way back to Blaine.
“The lights,” I rasped through an aching throat. “The lights! Turn on the lights! Please!”
Realizing what my hoarse voice was urging him to do, he bounded off the bed and sprinted to the wall. He clicked on the light switch and surveyed the cowering mess in front of him.
The secret was out. The ruse of my life was revealed. If Blaine didn’t know how deeply fucked up I was before, he knew now. And that fact broke my abused heart in two.
He rejoined me on the bed, hesitant to touch me, as I rocked myself back and forth, my knees drawn up to my chin. I had to hold myself together. I had to keep it all in. If he knew the ugliness inside me - if I let it spill out like the rising bile in my throat - he would never look at me the same way. He wouldn’t want anything to do with me, and that was something I couldn’t accept. Not right now when I needed him so badly.
“Blaine?” I whispered, afraid to look at him. Wet strands of sweat-soaked hair stuck to my forehead, creating a screen.
“Yes, baby,” he said soothingly, moving closer to me. He reached a tentative hand towards me, but let it drop before making contact. An internal struggle played on his features, as he tried to understand what had just happened.
I took a deep, shaky breath, before smoothing the hair out of my face, revealing my tear-streaked face. “Hold me? Please?”
His strong arms were around me before I could even finish my request, desperately trying to crush the fear that would undoubtedly take him away from me.
Chapter 18
Blaine
I couldn’t even comprehend what had just happened. One moment we were sleeping, her body curled into mine, and the next she was trembling, sobbing in her sleep.
I heard her whimper, begging someone to let her out. Then she was shaking like a leaf, pleading, crying for that person to stop touching her. I didn’t know why. I couldn’t even decipher her jumbled stream of anguished sobs. But I knew one thing for certain - someone had hurt Kami. And I would fucking die before I ever let her be hurt again.
I held her tight, stroking her hair as she cried hot tears into my chest. I wanted to kiss away each one of those tears. I wanted to tell her that she was safe, that she was ok. That she was loved. But my own trepidation kept me bound, crippling my voice.
When she couldn’t squeeze out another tear from her bloodshot eyes, she pulled away from me and covered her face. Was she angry with me? Did I do something to trigger whatever memory haunted her dreams?
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’m so sorry, Blaine. I need to go.”
I grasped her wrist before she could scoot off the bed. “No, Kami. You’re not going anywhere.” She jumped, and I realized my voice was gruffer than I’d intended. I didn’t want to scare her. Not when she was already so obviously terrified.
“I want you to stay, baby.” Gently, I pulled her back to me though she refused to look at me. With a finger, I turned her face towards mine. Red-rimmed, green eyes full of shame and regret looked back at me, causing an ache to radiate in my chest.
“I… I…shouldn’t,” she stammered. “I ruined your evening. I didn’t mean-,”
My lips cut off her next words, refusing to let her place any of the blame on herself. I’d be damned if she felt bad for what happened. Not when I felt so fucking helpless because I couldn’t take away her pain.
“No,” I whispered against her lips. “You’ll stay. And you’ll let me hold you. And kiss you. And if you feel like telling me what’s wrong, you’ll let me make it better. But no more about leaving. Ok?”
She nodded weakly, but it was enough. Kami was agreeing to stay with me, and I wasn’t about to question it. I kissed her gently once more, the saltiness of her tears mingling with her sweet taste, before tearing myself from the bed.
“I’m going to make you some tea. Don’t move, ok?”
I damn near broke my neck racing to the kitchen. I didn’t want to leave her side, but she needed to be soothed. Tea seemed like the right thing to give her.
Despite her agony, I wanted her badly. So badly that my cock was aching against the fabric of my pajama pants. And if I didn’t leave her right then to get some clarity, I would be liable to take advantage of her frailty and bury myself inside her. Until her tears of sorrow turned to tears of sheer ecstasy. I felt like the dirtiest motherfucker alive, but I couldn’t help what she did to my body. My mind was a bit more tactful, but my dick was a first-rate asshole.
“Here, drink this,” I said, handing her the steaming mug after I had returned, erection under wraps.
“Thank you,” she replied with a tense smile. She took a sip and closed her eyes, letting the hot liquid wash away the residual terror.
“So… are you ok?” It was a dumbass question, but I didn’t know what else to say.
Kami took another sip before exhaling. She nodded. “For now.” She tried to give me a reassuring smile, but I wasn’t buying it.
“For now? What exactly does that mean?”
“It means that I may never be fully ok, but I’ll survive. I’ll be ok…for now.”
“Is there anything I can do to help? I need to know how to make this better for you, Kami. Just tell me what to do.” I didn’t even realize that my hand was in my hair, pulling in frustration. Trying to get her to open up was like trying to steal a steak from a pit bull. That shit just wasn’t happening.
“No, Blaine. There’s nothing you can do.”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to scare her away, but I could see that she was miserable. I didn’t want her shouldering that misery alone. “Try me, Kami. You said you tru
sted me. Do you really think there’s anything you could tell me that would push me away from you? Because I’m telling you straight up right now - I’m not going anywhere.”
She met my penetrating stare, those green eyes filling with tears before she batted them away and turned her head. I felt like a fucking asshole.
“I’m…I’m fucked up, Blaine,” she whispered. If I hadn’t been hanging onto her every sigh and whimper, I would have missed it. “Like really fucked up. And if you knew what was good for you, you’d leave me alone.”
“I don’t believe that,” I replied, shaking my head. My hands cupped her face, turning it back towards me. I needed to look her in the eyes. I needed her to see just how serious I was. “I’m not going anywhere. I mean that.”
She pulled away from my touch and shook her head. “I’m telling you, I have problems. And you don’t need the headache. I’m not like your other girls, Blaine. I can’t be saved.”
What the fuck?
“My other girls? What the hell does that mean?”
A hard scowl marred her soft features as if she was conjuring an unpleasant memory. “CJ. He said you like damaged girls. He said you needed to feel like you could rescue them.” She looked down at the cooling mug of tea in her slightly shaking hands. “Because of your mom.”
I was on my feet and pacing, fists clenched at my sides, before good sense could stop me. “CJ needs to mind his own fucking business!”
Kami flinched, and I instantly regretted my outburst. I willed myself to calm down, shaking away the fresh wave of tension. “I’m sorry,” I muttered pathetically. “But he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I don’t have any other girls, Kami.”
She nodded, though I could tell she was unconvinced. Shit.
“But you have, and that’s why I’m here, isn’t it? You do feel the need to fix girls like me, don’t you?” Anger and disgust replaced the fear that had occupied her face. “You can’t fix me, Blaine. So don’t even try.”