“I don’t see why not.”
She was happy with my response, sinking into my arms. I held my knight snug in my arms. I didn’t know how the hell I was going to let this go—end this once it was time for her to leave. The thought of it killed me.
It’d only been a few days, but I’d never had so much fun—never felt this much since Janet. Not even Trixie could provide this amount of comfort, a feeling of overwhelming bliss. This was close to how it was with Janet, just as wonderful. Yes, there were ups and downs, but those could be easily overlooked with her presence.
I was glad she wanted to stay. I led her upstairs, somehow entering my bedroom with her in my arms. I placed her down on the edge of the bed and pulled her dress over her head as she tugged on my belt buckle. Once my pants were gone, I leaned forward as she went back, my hands outside her head, face only inches away from hers.
I heard her breath hitch when she felt my hardened cock between her legs. Then I remembered… this was where I first took her. Right on this bed. Right above her. But unlike that first time, I was actually paying attention now. I wanted to know what she was thinking and how she felt. I wanted to make this time feel like her first all over again.
So I took my time, trailing soft caresses down her body with my lips, the smooth valleys of her skin running by mine. I continued down, meeting at her yellow panties. They were simple, not lacey, stringy, or extravagant. Just simple. Sometimes simplicity worked best, and right now, it was certainly working. It worked for me because it gave me the satisfaction that she wouldn’t expect what was coming. She expected plain vanilla, but I was about to add a scoop of every flavor that ever existed along with a whopping helping of decadent, rich fudge and a cherry to top it off.
Lifting her hips, I tugged her panties down, pulling them from around her ankles once they’d made it down. I moved back up, and she gasped as I kissed between her thighs, back arching for more. I’d already tasted her less than two hours ago, but I was a giving person. She wanted more? She had it.
My tongue started at her clit this time, circling and suckling with small nips. “Ah, Theo,” she breathed, and in the same moment, her back curved again.
“Hold still for me baby.” I pressed my palm to her pubic bone, laying her flat again. “Let me taste you. I love eating this pussy.” She shuddered beneath the warm breath skimming through her glistening, pink slit. “I want to see those eyes. Look at me. Watch me.”
Her head lifted, and she glanced down. When she made eye contact with me, I claimed her pussy with my mouth, licking through and through, tongue gliding in and out, running up to the mount with need. She tasted divine. So fucking amazing.
Her mouth fell open, and the room filled with innocent cries of pleasure. Sounds that drove me fucking crazy. I wanted to feel her. So badly.
Drawing away, I pulled upward, hovering above her again. The look in her eyes was desperate, full of a want that may never be satisfied. I eased down after taking my boxers away, nervous about how to go about her. I’d fucked her roughly so many times before…. shit, this was crazy. I felt like it was my first time again, too. I’d never taken anyone’s virginity before Chloe. Janet wasn’t even a virgin when I met her.
The tip of my cock met at her wet entrance. Her body relaxed beneath me, corresponding with the thickness. “You didn’t tell me you were a virgin when we first made this happen, Chloe,” I murmured, lips skimming the shell of her ear. She trembled, goose bumps crawling along her skin. “So tonight, I’m taking you like it’s the first time again.” My cock inched in with the last word. “Gently. Carefully. Exactly how it should have been.”
The pleasure was clear on her face. She loved when I talked to her. Perhaps there was something about my voice that heated her up enough to milk my cock. My voice alone drove her mad.
I inched in with gradual force, our eyes fastened, and she cupped my face, allowing our lips to meet to fulfill the sweet ache. She wanted me to go deeper, but I held back. Fingernails bit into my shoulders, silently begging me to follow through.
And I did.
Finally.
As soon as my pipe filled her in, she moaned my name, as if she’d been waiting all this time to say it. I caught her indulgence, crushing her lips with ravenous force. I thrust just a little harder, but my strokes were still slow and even. I wanted her to feel it—all of me, like it should have been that very first night.
Her nails went deeper in my skin, our lips still twisted together. We were hungry for each other. Greedy. Our bodies grinded, in sync. I thrust just a little harder, trying my damn best not to still or go rigid. I was on the verge of coming, her wet pussy devouring and juicing my cock, tightening at all the right moments.
“Fuck,” I breathed. I was so close. So close. But I grew even closer when she brought those supple, pink lips up and swirled her tongue around my pierced nipple. Her tongue flicked the metal, and she sucked just enough to make it taut. “Shit, baby,” I groaned.
She responded to my voice, back bowed, slipping right off the edge with me. And when she came, wailing, “Oh, God, yes!” I came with her, going completely empty in that tight, sweet, fucking pussy. A loud, deep groan volleyed on the walls, the loudest I’d ever heard myself get.
Fuck, she was so tight. And so motherfucking good.
I collapsed but made sure not to crush her while breathing deep, panting with my mouth on the crook of her neck. She sighed, her entire body going lax beneath me.
“I have something to tell you.” She stroked the edges of my hair.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re my best,” she whispered in my ear. I heard the smile in her voice.
I pushed up on one elbow. “Your best?”
“Yep.”
“See, it’s words like that I love hearing from you.” Her giggle was shrill as I kissed the base of her neck. I pulled out and helped her up, figuring she was in just as much need of a shower as I was.
So we showered together. I used the bar soap, helping her with her wash, running it between her full, perky breasts to the pussy she allowed me to own over and over again. She loved my hands on her and hated when my touch left her.
I still couldn’t believe she wanted me so much. Me, a man that was twice her age. A man that she wasn’t even supposed to touch her. She knew the consequence behind this affair, the hurt she’d feel once she was around Izzy again.
I was serious about her having a good heart, and I couldn’t understand how she continued to sleep with me, treating me like a king. I was Chloe’s king— an unruly one but still one she respected and cared for. But I was also unjust and extremely unfair to my beloved daughter.
So much wrong.
So much right.
So much light and darkness, a mixture of both.
There was so much about the way she looked at me, how she didn’t look up to me or fear me. She accepted me entirely, as she did herself. A girl full of so much love and passion. A girl that shouldn’t have been lying in my bed.
She fell asleep on my chest, breathing evenly, and I watched her. The purity was what killed me. She may have thought she wasn’t innocent, but to me, she was. I was the one that started this, coming onto her when I was too drunk to care. I lead her on, but we both took this to deeper, darker places.
We ventured into the same blackness I couldn’t seem to escape, sinking further and further into the sea. But being under this sea was different. We could breathe, so it was okay. We could feel and touch and move. Nothing held us back, and nothing saw us.
Just like the ocean, our black sea was full of wonders—full of uniqueness and secrecy. It was our place, this vast ocean we lived in. It was for us, and the only way it could have been ruined was if something intruded, messing up the fluidity and transforming it into a menacing typhoon.
Unfortunately, the ocean can also be disturbed and interrupted. Peace doesn’t always linger. Happiness doesn’t always stick. Freedom doesn’t always ring.
Our ocean of
black, our tainted mess, would be demolished by the end of summer and nothing would be able to repair it.
It’d been so long since I had anyone sleeping with me in my bed. Three and a half years to be exact. Not even Trixie stayed the night. I always made her go. Our rules.
It felt good waking up next to Chloe, but what was even greater was awaking to her soft, familiar hand running across the tip of my cock.
I stirred out of my sleep, but she shushed me, placing her other hand on my chest and gently forcing me to lie back down. I eased back, eyes trained on her before I looked down and calmed myself. Yes, it had been a while since something like this happened so early.
Her hand moved under the comforter, lifting up and down, stroking slow and smooth. My groan was hoarse as she put small pecks on my chest with her petal-like lips. Each kiss further aroused me. My morning wood needed to be satisfied.
I could never control myself in the mornings. There was just something about them, perhaps the crisp feeling of the sunlight or knowing it was a new day. Or maybe my few hours of sleep recharged me, building me up for another release to happen soon.
“Damn,” I groaned. “Yeah, keep doing that, baby.” She dropped the sheet, her head went down, and her lips wrapped around my tip. She did what I did not expect. I thought I could hold it a little longer, but that simple act alone was enough to make me explode.
I splurged into her mouth, shooting down her throat, and she swallowed every last drop, eyes on me, not daring to pull those hazel irises away. I jolted even more, pressing my palm to the back of her head and making the moist walls of her mouth mold around my length. “Fuck.”
She moaned around my cock, bringing her mouth up, swirling her tongue swiftly around my tip and across the slit between and then pulling away, causing my hips to buckle. Pulling up, she grinned and then rested her head on my chest. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” she confessed.
“Shit, thanks for giving me the first shot at it,” I laughed, planting a kiss on her forehead. Leaning on my elbow, I turned to face her, admiring her physique. She looked good in my T-shirt, her slender legs toned in all the right places, skin smooth. Her nipples were what I expected, erect, prodding through the white cotton.
I ran the back of my hand across her cheek, and she caught it, holding on. “I’ve always wanted to ask…” She paused for a moment, lips twisted. “How often do you think of Mrs. Black?”
Her question caught me off guard. I felt my heart come to a slight skid. It wasn’t as intense as it used to be. Before, my heart would slam to a standstill from the mere thought of Janet. The wound was deep, but with time, it became easier to accept—easier to control the emotion that used to wreak havoc. “Every day,” I responded.
“You miss her a lot, don’t you?”
I huffed. “Severely.”
Chloe’s brows creased for a single moment, then her face softened. “We… never would have happened if she was still here, huh?”
I blinked. I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that question. Yeah, if Janet were still around, I would have kept my boundaries, maintained distance, and considered Chloe one of Izzy’s hottest friends. I wouldn’t have touched her—hell, I never would have gotten so fucking crazy if it weren’t for the murder of my wife.
Instead of giving a direct answer, I said, “Wanna know how fucked up my life was before? Why I sometimes think I’m the one that should have died that day?” Her eyelashes batted at me, and she adjusted herself, pulling her hand away. Her eyes were full of questions. I answered them.
“When I was eleven, I lost my dad. Seems like a corny job, but he was a firefighter, and I always admired him for it. Saving lives. Working day and night to provide for us. Risking his life on a day to day basis. I always wondered ‘Why him?’ when he passed, and I guess since I never came to terms with him dying, it was even harder dealing with Janet’s death. My therapist says it was because I wasn’t expecting to lose anyone else. I had finally found safety with her—security—but lost it within the blink of an eye. When I lost my dad, I became rebellious. My mom couldn’t control me for the life of her.” I laughed. “I regret putting her through so much hell—with being suspended from school for picking fights and even setting off firecrackers in the boys’ bathroom just for the hell of it.” My head shook. “Shit, for a while I thought I wouldn’t live to see this age. I didn’t want to live, and for some reason, when he died… nothing changed. Nothing got better. Everything became worse.” Chloe’s face was serious as I stopped talking for a brief moment.
“Life got so much harder for me and my mom. My mom worked way too much in order to support me, which left me at home alone. So… one day I met this guy named Horris at a bike convention, and he introduced me to this gang of bad-asses. All we did was cause trouble and fuck shit up for no reason. Some of them killed for fun. Tormented members of other gangs and robbed from innocent civilians.” I swallowed thickly. “I hate that I’m even telling you, but… I almost killed someone.”
She gasped. “Who?”
I focused on the silver sheets. “Janet’s dad.”
As if that were a twist, she gasped even louder. “What!? How?”
“Her dad is an uptight asshole. You probably saw him at her funeral, how he didn’t say a single fucking word to me. Well, before I ever met Janet, I used to hang out at this bar in L.A. They played poker there every fucking night. Her dad happened to be there one night, knowing damn well he wasn’t supposed to be gambling. At a young age, I’d learned how to play poker and was pretty damn good at it. Let’s just say her dad tried to cheat and that left me with no choice but to beat his ass.”
“You had a choice—what do you mean you had no choice?”
“My gang was there, demanding me to do something about it. And I’m no pussy. I wanted to show them that I could hold my own—that they didn’t need to worry about me. Shit, the whole gang thought I was a pushover for a while, but that was only because I was quiet and new. But when they saw me beat her dad until he was black and blue… well, let’s just say I was highly respected. Maybe not by her dad, but by the gang. The Union. That’s what they called themselves.” I laughed, remembering those dark and somewhat exciting days.
“Wow,” Chloe whispered. Her eyes moved down to the jagged “U” on my shoulder.
“I got it as soon as the gang let me in,” I said in reference to the tattoo. “I wanted to prove my loyalty to them. But that’s not even the best part. Janet worked at the bar, doing dishes in the back, and when she saw her dad getting pummeled, she jumped right in, breaking it up and then cursing me the fuck out, threatening me with the nearest object. That object happened to be a broken glass bottle.” I chuckled.
“No way! Damn, Mrs. Black was badass.”
“She really was. That was how I fell for her. Unlike the other girls, she wasn’t afraid of me. She wasn’t afraid to destroy or kill me and something about that zinged me. I couldn’t pinpoint it, but I knew I had to make it up to her.”
“And what did you do to make it up to her?”
I fought a smile. “I found out where she lived and showed up at her doorstep. Her dad answered and tried to slam the door in my face, but I caught it in time, and Janet appeared. She was upset of course, but I told her straight to her face that I was sorry, and that I’d gotten carried away because of one too many drinks and too much testosterone around me. I apologized to her father with sincerity, and then I apologized to her for ruining her night. Then, I offered to help her dad out until he healed. Turned out, I broke his arm… and his nose.” I winced. She laughed.
“You are so bad!”
“Hey,”—I shrugged—“back then, I had no guidance and after a while, Janet understood my struggle. Trust me, it was hard winning her over. Took me three months before she finally eased up. I don’t regret that part of my life, though. I could but… I don’t. It happened for a reason. I was lost, and she found me.” My lips pushed together. “One year later, she ended up pregnant. We were
twenty when she had Izzy. So young and dumb and lost. But… somehow, we made our way through all of it, despite the struggles and tears. I wanted to do better, not only for her, but for our daughter.
“I dropped out of that gang and focused on making my life better. For some reason, seeing Isabelle for the first time caused me to come to the conclusion that being a part of that so-called ‘family’ wasn’t the life for me. I realized, then, that I didn’t want to spend my days beating older men over a game of poker and ten measly dollars. I wanted to spend it treating someone kindly, showing them how good I could be and that I wasn’t some dumb streetwalker. I’d always been good at cars, so I got into it and worked my ass off night and day to provide for them. Crazy, though. Her dad thinks I’m apart of her death. He thinks I was involved in something gang related and they came for her. Fucking jackass.”
Chloe’s eyes were sympathetic. Understanding.
“Know something?”
“What?” she asked.
“I think I was given a daughter for a reason—as somewhat of a punishment for hurting Janet and her family. Also to make me a little softer around the edges. I used to be a huge prick. Nothing seemed to please me. I cared for no one’s feelings but my own… until I met Janet of course, but even with her I was still kind of a dick for a while.”
She sighed. “Either way, Mrs. Black was one lucky woman.”
I struggled with a smile, allowing a soothing wave of silence to pass through. “You know… I’ve… never actually talked about her with anyone. I haven’t mentioned her with anyone since she died. Not like this. Not out loud.”
Her face straightened. “Seriously? Not even with Izzy?”
“No ‘cause I know how much it’ll hurt to bring her mom up during a conversation. If I even mention the word ‘mom’, her eyes get all watery. Can’t stand to see her cry.”
Sadness washed over her face. “Why me?” she asked.
I shrugged. “There’s something about you.” I stroked her cheek and then her chin with gentle fingers. “I have never been able to pinpoint it. What you do to me, I will never know.”
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