by Alexa Riley
Reaching over, I rub her belly and then look up into Zoey’s eyes.
“Thank you,” I whisper, and she looks at me, cocking her head to the side.
“For what?”
“For this.” I look between her and Amelia. “For everything. I’m a lucky bastard.”
“Ooooooh! Daddy said a bad word.”
“She’s right, you did,” Zoey agrees, and I just smile at them.
Life is too damn good.
Fifteen years later…
“Oh, fuck!”
“Shhh. The girls are downstairs. They’ll hear us.”
“Oh, fuck,” Zoey whispers.
I smile against her pussy and then start licking her again. I get lost in her sweet honeysuckle, licking her in long thick strokes just the way she likes it. She lies back on the bed, grabbing the pillow and putting it over her face. She’s trying to be good, but I really am torturing her.
Our oldest, Amelia, is home from college and took her sister, Brock to the movies with her. I guess they got back early, because we heard them downstairs just as things were getting hot. I jumped up and locked the door but refused to let Zoey go. They’ll be fine without us for a while.
Zoey makes mumbled noises into the pillow as I eat her pussy. I bring up two fingers and push them through her wet folds, and then deep inside her. She moans and clenches around them, and my dick throbs in response.
Sucking her clit into my mouth, I graze it with my teeth, making her legs shake with need. I curl my fingers up, hitting her G spot, and start to work them in and out of her. Flicking her little nub with the end of my tongue is enough to send her over the edge.
Her legs tense, and her back bows off the bed while she screams my name into the pillow. Even after all these years, I haven’t gotten tired of that sound. There’s never been another woman who’s caught my attention or made me question for one second my devotion to Zoey. She’s the only woman who ever saw me for who I am, and she’s my reason for breathing.
Kissing the inside of her thighs, I rub my nose against her, just letting her ride her orgasm to its end while I pet her and give her little pecks of love.
“Mom?” I hear Brock’s voice and then a knock on the door.
Zoey giggles into the pillow, and I turn my head back toward the door. “Go away!” I yell as I climb up the bed and on top of Zoey. She’s shaking with laughter, and I move the pillow to whisper in her ear. “That was your fault this time.”
“What are you guys doing in there?” Amelia shouts from the other side of the door, and I roll my eyes.
“There’s money in my purse. Go get ice cream. Leave us alone!” Zoey yells, and then I hear the girls head back downstairs.
It’s all I can do not to fall on top of her laughing, but then she reaches between us and grabs my cock. All the laughter leaves me, and my desire shoots to the forefront.
“Orgasms, Hart. I want all of them.”
She guides my cock to her opening, and I thrust in the rest of the way. “Whatever you want, cupcake,” I grunt out as I start to move inside of her.
Leaning down, I suck on her hard nipple, needing something in my mouth to keep me quiet. It’s been almost two decades since I first got inside her, and her pussy still grips me tighter than anything I’ve ever known. Her warm, wet heat sucks me inside her, and I have to bite down on her nipple to keep from cumming. Her hands go to my back, her nails digging in, and I feel her clenches start again.
“Drake,” she moans, and she cums all over my cock.
There’s nothing sweeter than the feel of her pleasure on me and under me. Getting Zoey off is what gets me off, and I follow her into sweet oblivion.
When we both catch our breath and I take my mouth off of her nipple, I look up into her eyes.
She reaches between us, rubbing her hand over the space on my chest where her pink cupcake is tattooed. All these years later, she still looks at it and smiles. Just like the first time she saw it. I even had two more little cupcakes tattooed beside it to represent my little girls.
Seeing her like this is what makes my life worth living.
There are little fine lines around her beautiful eyes as she smiles up at me, and I can’t help but fall in love with each of them. Each one represents a smile she’s given me or our girls. Each crease is a memory I’ve shared with her, and each one I cherish.
“What?” she asks, smiling up at me.
“I love you, cupcake.”
“I love you, too, Drake. And I want another orgasm.”
Elle and Daniel aka Pink
It’s been fifteen years since the day I first saw Elle, and I never get tired of looking at her. She’s in the kitchen setting out lunches and making sure everything is ready to go for in the morning. I walk up behind her. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I bury my face in her neck and just breathe her in.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” she laughs as she rubs her ass against me.
“Who’s saying I won’t finish it?” She turns in my arms and gives me a kiss as she reaches down and grabs my ass. Leaning my forehead against hers, I think about all that we’ve shared these past years.
We’ve had six kids together—three boys and three girls—and Elle runs this place like a drill sergeant. I’m so proud of the mother she’s become and of how amazing she is, but I still like to get her riled up. She keeps us all organized, and I make sure to mess her schedule up every now and then to remind her that chaos can be fun, too. She gets bent out of shape, but getting her steamed up is half the fun.
“I’ve got to finish this and then set the coffee, fold the laundry, and get the hockey bags ready for practice after school. Then I need to—”
I put my finger over her lips and give her a look.
“Don’t give me that look, Pink,” she says, pushing my hand away. “I have too much to do.”
“Not tonight,” I say, and raise an eyebrow. “I’ve already done all that shit. It may not be the way you like it, but it’s done.”
She starts to talk, but I put my hand in her hair and grip a handful of it.
“I’m taking you upstairs. I want you to take your clothes off and get in the bath I ran for you. I’m going fuck you in it and then rub your feet.”
I feel her melt in my arms, and I know I’ve got her. I’ve always known Elle to be highly strung, but all she needs is a little control taken away and she’s like warm butter for me.
She likes everything done a certain way, but her dominance can only last so long. We both know who’s really in charge, and most of the time she needs reminding.
I reach down and grab her ass with both hands, picking her up. Her arms and legs go around me, and I carry her up the stairs to our bedroom. I kick the door closed behind us and lock it before taking her to the master bath.
I strip down and get in the tub, which is more than big enough for the two of us, and lean back to watch her take her clothes off. She knows what I want, and I wait for it.
Slowly, she starts to move her hips as she strips out of her clothes. I’ve got soft music playing, and she takes her time, letting me see everything that’s mine.
Once she’s undressed, she walks over and gets in the tub, standing up over me. Taking her hands, I pull her down so she’s straddling my hips. She reaches down between us, holding my cock as she lowers herself onto it.
When she’s fully seated on me, I grab her hips and work them up and down.
“Say it, Prinzessin.”
Elle knows I want to hear her words of love when I’m inside her. Nothing turns me on more than when I’ve got my cock in her and she tells me she loves me. It’s the most perfect thing in the world, and every time we connect, I need it to leave her lips.
“I love you, Daniel. Only you.”
All these years later and I still get off hearing that I’m the only one she wants. That there have been no others before me.
“I love you, too, Elle.”
The candles flicker in the bathroo
m and reflect the shadows of our bodies becoming one. We make love, and I give her the foot rub I promised, all while she tells me about her day. I refill the tub with warm water countless times because I’m not ready for tonight to end.
Some days are hectic, especially with six kids, so nights like these are savored. When I finally pull her from the tub, she’s putty in my arms as I take her to bed and kiss every inch of her.
Elle needed me to break down her walls and help her see the beauty in chaos. Every day we are together is another chance for me to show her just how perfect our love is. And tonight, as she drifts to sleep in my arms, I kiss her forehead and thank my lucky stars she chose me.
THE END
Taking the Fall
Chapter 1
Layla
“What the fuck are you doing here, Cherry?” Carter growls and stands up from a metal chair.
I’ve never seen this look on him before. Well, not directed at me anyway. What should I expect though? The man is in prison and has been for four years, and still has another four to go.
I haven’t seen him since that night. The night I can’t remember. The reason I’m here.
“Did you get my letters?” I ask, ignoring his question. I sent hundreds over the years and never once did he respond.
“Yeah, I got them,” he fires back.
“But…you never...” My words trail off as the force of what he’s saying hits me. He got my letters; he just didn’t care enough to write back. The first ones started off asking what had happened, because I had so many questions. All I have is this giant blank spot in my mind driving me insane. One second I have a perfect life and the next I wake up in the hospital covered in bruises, with my mother missing, along with my bodyguard. Poof! No more Mom and no more Carter. For some reason, the loss of Carter hurt the most. After that my once-loving father turned cold. Others might have called my father cold before on account of his dealings with the dirtier elements of society, but I never thought he was…until now.
“Ever think there was a reason I didn’t respond? I threw them out. I don’t want you here.” Carter has always been blunt and to the point but he was never intentionally cruel, and never with me. He had been my bodyguard for six months before that night. I couldn’t turn around without tripping over him. Anytime I was allowed to the leave house, he was at my side like a shadow.
Shifting uncomfortably, I take him in. He’s huge. I remember him as always being big, but now he seems massive. His six foot four frame looks like it’s been chiseled from stone and could bust the seams of his prison uniform. I don’t recall him having so many tattoos either, but now every inch of exposed skin is covered in them, peeking up around the neck of his uniform. I also don’t recall ever wanting to lick them as I do now.
Slowly moving my eyes back to his face, I see his jaw is hard from clenching it. His eyes lock on mine, so green they almost look like colored contact lenses. Those blazing emeralds snap away and do a head-to-toe sweep of my body. My breath catches in my throat at the look he gives me. It was hard and deadly before, but now it appears hungry and consuming. He makes me feel naked, completely stripped.
In three long strides he’s in front of me, lifting me into his arms. Caught completely off guard, I gasp. He wraps his free hand in my long hair and pulls my head back, claiming my mouth. My fingers grab the fabric of his shirt and try to pull him closer. I feel like my whole body has just come alive. My body is overcome with all the passion and fervor I’ve felt all these years, but I don’t exactly have any experience to guide me. I’m twenty and I’ve never been kissed. But this doesn’t feel like any kiss I’ve ever imagined. It feels like he’s devouring my body with his mouth, his teeth, his tongue. It feels like Carter is ravishing my soul.
Going to an all-girls’ school kept me sheltered. I even took all my college classes online after I graduated. The only dick that was ever near me was hired by my father. His men were either deadly scared of him or had too much respect for him to touch me—probably a little of both.
I follow Carter’s lead and return his kiss. I’ve wanted this for years. Before he was taken away, I used to try to get his attention and shamelessly flirt with him. I think I was terrible at it because never once did he touch me. I never cared that he was ten years older than I was. I wanted him. I even had this silly idea that if I waited for him, he could be mine. That’s why I wrote him those stupid letters that he clearly didn’t give a shit about. Feeling my anger rush back at the reminder, I go to push at his chest, but we’re ripped apart suddenly. A guard has me in his arms and my feet are still off the floor. It takes three other guards to wrestle Carter down onto one of the tables.
His hands grip the side of the table, his white knuckles betraying his iron grip. “Fuck, Cherry, never thought I was the jealous type,” he says, his voice rough with a touch of fury and possession. “Until you.” His glare moves to the guard holding me. “Now get your fucking hands off her.”
I’m stunned by his words. He’s pinned to a table by three guards and he’s giving orders? I guess some things never change.
“Get. Them. The. Fuck. Off,” Carter barks again as he starts to rise from his position, even as the guards try to push him down.
“This is my prison, Carter. You may get some leeway because of who you are, but there are cameras in here,” the guard holding me says as he places me back down on the floor.
“I just came for answers,” I whisper, hoping he doesn’t catch on to my lie. I want answers, but I want him more.
“I got no answers for you here. I don’t want to see your little ass in this place again, Cherry.” ‘Cherry’, the name used to make me smile. Now it’s starting to piss me off.
“Says the man who just had his tongue down my throat,” I shoot back, feeling my anger boil over. Hell, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want him to know I care, but how can he not after receiving all those stupid letters? Letters that had started off as questions but slowly turned into a diary. I sent him my every thought. But, as time went on, they morphed into love letters to him. Maybe he doesn’t know what they contained. Maybe he threw them out before reading them. I’m grasping at straws. He may not know it, but he is all I have left.
After my mother disappeared, my father turned as cold as she had been. I had always been a silly child who just got in my mother’s way. She was too busy going to events and maintaining an image to devote any time or attention to me. I can still remember her offhand comments about my weight and frenzied red hair. I just always seemed to be in her way—a disappointing nuisance. Now my father can barely look at me. Does my father love me? Yes, I believe so. Family is everything to him. But does he show it? Can I feel it? Not anymore. Now I’m put away on a shelf, having to sneak away to come here.
“I haven’t felt a woman’s body in years, can’t blame a man for taking opportunities as they arise,” he says cockily as the guards slowly let him up. He drops down into a metal chair. He seems completely unfazed by what has just happened. I guess that was all it was to him—a man needing a fix. He didn’t possess my mouth, my soul for those few moments because he needed to touch me. No one touches me.
“I see I don’t have anyone now. Looks like I can go,” I say flatly, all emotion leaching from my voice. Hell, if no one else wants to show me any tenderness, why should I give any?
“Good. Get gone,” he snarls through clenched teeth, but I see his eyes soften for an instant before being replaced by his usual stoniness. Or maybe I’m trying to convince myself and it was never there.
Pulling the picture I have from my pocket, I let it drop to the floor and I take one last look at the man I’ve been thinking about every night for the past four years. I don’t want the reminder of him anymore if he doesn’t want me.
I’m done living in a world that seems to feel nothing while I feel everything.
I have the quarter million I took from Daddy’s safe before I gave the guards the slip. I’m starting my life over, a life with no more h
oles in it, a life where I can find people who want to feel with me.
I turn to make my way to leave. Behind me I hear Carter rise from his chair, the metal scratching across the concrete floor. Opening the door to leave, I toss my final words over my shoulder. “Don’t you worry, Carter. No one will be seeing me around anymore.” The door slams behind me and I hear all hell break loose on the other side.
I square my shoulders and keep on walking. I only have one feeling in my heart now.
Freedom.
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