by M Never
“You okay with me leaving you with all this?” I motion to the massacre on the floor.
“I’m fine. Go. The crew should be here any minute. I’ll hold things down.” Composed, even sentences flow out of Kayne’s mouth, but the worry is apparent in his eyes. We’re spinning way too many dangerous dishes at once, and one slip could mean a catastrophic crash.
“She’s fine,” I try to assure him. “No one knows where she is. She’s probably the safest person in the whole house.”
Kayne grimaces, incredulously.
I place my hand on his shoulder. “You know where I’ll be if you need me.”
“I’ll be fine.” He urges me to go. “London needs you. More than anyone.”
“We’re in the same boat, my friend.”
“That we are.” He crosses his arms authoritatively. Ellie’s safety is the most important thing on his mind.
I leave Kayne behind with the mess. Using the shadows to shield me, I make my way across the backyard and around the pool to the miniature house set off to the side of the property. It’s about as extravagant as the inside of the mansion, outfitted with an entire wall of French doors overlooking the blue pool water, a full country kitchen, cork floors, and a lavish white bedroom. Two people could live out here comfortably.
I sneak through the dark house toward the back bedroom. When I crack open the door, I pause, listening to the conversation taking place.
London is seated on the edge of the bed with Alistair kneeling in front of her. Her gaze is lost, someplace far off as she rambles.
“You remind me of a monster I once knew. He used to keep me locked in a cage. He called me his pet. He liked to see me cry. And liked to hear me scream. His favorite thing to do was rape me over the sink while holding my head under water.” She tries to vacantly touch his face, and he spooks like a cat. Very unlike Alistair, but hearing her hair-raising accounts could haunt a friggin’ ghost.
“Enough,” I announce my presence. Alistair scrambles to his feet and backs away from London.
“She needs a shower and sleep. And probably years of therapy,” Alistair advises, unnerved.
“I think we’re all going to need therapy after this.” I toss the fresh pair of clothes I brought him on one of the wicker chairs. “Go wash off and change. Leave your dirty shirt and pants behind. I need you back at the social ASAP.”
Alistair doesn’t waste a minute. He’s clean and changed in record time. “I’ll text you when the house clears out.” He’s itching to leave.
“My phone is on,” I inform him with my eyes glued to London. “Don’t let anyone see you,” I remind him.
“As stealthy as a ninja.”
A moment later, we’re alone.
“Hey, c’mon.” I take London’s hand and gently guide her to stand. She does so without any arguments or objections, still completely zombified.
I direct her into the small adjoining bathroom and turn on the shower. I test the water until it’s the perfect temperature before I strip out of my clothes and then strip London out of hers. I toss her bloody corset in the corner along with the items Alistair left behind. When she’s asleep, I’ll burn everything in the fire pit outside.
London barely registers what I’m doing as she stares off into space. I wish I could reach her—pull her back, bring her to me—but I know recovering from such a traumatic event is going to take time.
I place her under the hot spray, soaking her body and hair all at the same time. Red mixes with the clear water as it escapes down the drain. See, little bird? Your vile past is washing away.
Giving her the silence she needs, I lather up her hair with lemon-scented shampoo and coat every inch of her body with the suds. It’s my version of a baptism. A cleansing. Tonight is a new beginning.
“I’m right here with you, London. You aren’t alone.” I gently rinse the soap from her body, hoping my touch and my voice console and soothe and heal her.
After a little coaxing, we finally make eye contact as we stand under the shower. There’s an inkling of life sparking in her flat blue eyes. She touches my chest, and I place my hand over hers. She sways on her feet, then steadies herself. Her bottom lip is pouty, and her cheeks are redder than strawberries, but I know she’s coming around.
“Is he really dead?” she croaks.
“Yes, my little bird, you finally killed your demon.”
That pouty lip quivers, and I know another bout of waterworks is on its way.
“What’s going to happen to me now? I killed him.” The dam bursts.
I yank her into my arms and smother her in my embrace.
“Nothing. No one will ever know. I promise I’ll protect you.”
“How?” She sobs inconsolably. I never realized that one human being could produce so many tears.
“Trust me.” I ask for the same thing I’ve been asking for all along.
“That’s so hard to do,” she confesses.
“I know. But you have to be brave and trust me now.” I take her face and force her to look at me. “You have to finally let me in.”
“I let you in the first day I met you,” she astonishingly comes clean.
“I let you in the first second I saw you.” I press my mouth firmly to hers, sucking gently on her puffy lips. “I’ll protect you,” I vow, resting my forehead against hers. “Please just let me protect you. You’ll never have to hide again. You’ll finally be able to fly.”
London breaks down, hooking her arms under mine, and just holds on.
I hug her until she can barely stand. Until the weight of the night finally takes its toll. There is so much I want to confess. So much I want to profess.
But now isn’t the time to be spewing emotional rhetoric. She’s not ready to hear it, and I’m not ready for my feelings to fall on deaf ears. Tonight, it’s all about show don’t tell. My actions will speak for me. Of that I’m certain.
I wrap London in a towel and then myself. It’s so quiet in the house, I can hear London breathing from across the room. I pull down the bedding, dry us both as best I can, then put her to bed without even bothering to dress her. It’s flesh on flesh tonight. Body heat, cool sheets, and an unrestricted connection.
I climb in after her, situating her next to me, side by side, limbs mingled, head on my chest. Her tears continue to flow down her cheeks in a fluid path, leaking years of heartache.
She can cry all night, all month, all year. I won’t let go until she’s shed every last painful drop.
“I’m so tired,” she whimpers weakly against me.
“Go to sleep,” I hum, hoping the melodic tone of my voice will help her drift off. “I’ll be right here to love you in the morning.”
A little whine escapes from her and then there’s nothing. No salty fluid or shaky breaths, just peace.
I WAKE UP WITH A start.
I look around the bright sunny room, feeling completely out of sorts.
Where the hell am I?
“Hey,” Jett’s calm voice cuts through my mental turmoil. When I turn my head to him, everything comes rushing back.
“I killed him, didn’t I?” I slap a hand over my mouth horrified.
Jett nods, sliding closer to me over the pure white sheets. He sits up as he tugs me into his arms. I don’t protest. I just melt against his warm, bare chest.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he asks.
I nod silently before he tips my head back to look up at him. “He was never going to get out alive. If you didn’t kill him, I was going to.”
I stare into his smoldering aqua eyes and believe every word.
“What do we do now?” I whisper.
“Go on like nothing ever happened. You promised me last night that I could protect you, and I intend to do just that. Trust me to take care of everything.”
Trust. The most challenging word in my vocabulary. I’ve never trusted anyone. But I want to trust Jett.
“Please don’t make me regret making that promise.” I dig my face
into the curve of his neck.
“Have I ever lied to you? Have I ever done anything to make you think my word isn’t worth anything?”
“No.”
“Then don’t start doubting me now.” He holds me so tenderly that every wall I have ever erected comes crashing down and turns to rubble. I can barely breathe as I hand myself over to him, extending my complete and vulnerable trust.
“I feel so . . . strange,” I admit.
“Strange?”
“Out of place. If that makes sense?”
“I thought you would have felt free.”
“I don’t know what free feels like. I’ve belonged to someone my entire life.”
“Well, now your life belongs to you. You can do anything you want. Be anyone you want.”
I blink up at him oddly. I’ve never had the opportunity to decide things for myself. Even when I was running, the threat of being found dictated all my actions.
“What would you do if you were me?” I ask Jett earnestly.
He smiles down at me warmly and wisely. “I would live,” he says simply. Like it’s the most obvious answer.
“I have no idea how to do that.” I laugh. I actually laugh sincerely.
The strangest feeling tickles my gut.
“We’ll figure it out together.” He kisses my head and tightens his arms. I rub my hand over his tattooed chest, and the warmest sensation spreads through me. It tingles and arouses and energizes something buried deep inside.
“Can we start living right now?” My touch becomes bolder, traveling south over his ripped torso and sculpted hips.
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” He closes his mouth over mine, not squandering a moment. We don’t do anything more than kiss and touch and connect in a way I’ve never experienced. There’s no pressure to perform. No one ordering me or forcing me or controlling me. Nothing is rushed or expected.
We just take our time exploring. Investigating every curve of each other’s body, every dip and hollow. Every secret.
“I’ve never been naked with a man before,” I confess, as I trace the blue and black nautical star on his left bicep. It’s always intrigued me, although I don’t know why. Maybe because it’s the only tattoo on that arm. A loner, just like me.
“Yes, you have. You just didn’t know it.” He kisses me so passionately we fall back lip-locked onto the mattress.
“When did you get this?” I ask as I touch the four points.
“When I was lost. There was a time in my life when I needed guidance through the night.”
“Did it help?” I straddle my legs over his pelvis.
“Yes. I found my way.” He slides his tongue rapturously between my lips.
“Do you think I’ll find mine?”
“I know you will, because I’m your North Star.” He silences me with a uniting embrace as we sink together into a sea of passion. Drowning in desire, immersed in need.
After an eternity of drifting weightlessly, Jett skims his fingertips down the center of my naked body. Lifting my hips, I allow him access to the entrance he’s hell-bent on breaching.
He easily submerges two fingers in my pussy, and we both expel a blissful moan.
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He pumps his hand lightly, curling his fingers against my front wall. Teasing that secret spot that can send me into orbit.
“That’s what happens when you kiss me.” I breathe heavily with my eyes closed while rocking against his hand.
“Mmm.” He likes my response. “Let’s see how wet you get while I kiss you with my cock inside you.” He removes his hand and grabs his shaft, lifting it so I can maneuver myself onto him. I engulf him leisurely, appreciating for the first time what it’s really like to be with a man.
Jett exhales heavily, grabbing my thighs, tensing his body, and stretching his neck. “That’s it. Go slow.”
I move as slowly as possible, as slowly as my lust will allow, but he’s so long and so thick and fills me so deliciously that I want his entire length inside me right now. I drop down quicker the last two inches, the ache becoming unbearable. I need the friction and the resistance. I grind on him gradually, rolling my hips until we’re both heaving. Everything below my waist tightening and pulling and fluttering. With Jett, I really am a bird flying freely. I think I always have been and just didn’t realize it. Didn’t want to acknowledge it. Freedom was just a dream until now. Until him.
Jett sits up, shifting the angle of his cock. A zap of unexpected pleasure punches through me, causing me to shiver in his arms.
“Ah.” He responds to my tightening pussy as I continue to ride him ardently.
“Jesus, the way you move.” Jett grabs both of my heavy breasts hypnotically—eyes closed, in a state of bliss—squeezing and pushing them together. Licking both nipples in a fit of famine, biting, sucking, sending me to the brink in a flash.
“If you keep doing that, you’re going to make me come.” I whimper, the combined sensations are all too much. His pelvis grazing against my clit, the balls of his piercing massaging my inner walls relentlessly, and the provoking fill of his cock every time I grind down.
“So come. It won’t be the only time today.” He looks up at me with that predatory expression. His tongue extended and flat over my nipple.
“I don’t want to. Not yet,” I pant. “You feel too good.” But even as I protest, I know there’s no stopping the orgasm that’s already gained momentum. That’s rolling through my insides like an expanding snowball down a steep wintry hill.
“Jett.” I dig my nails into the back of his head. “Jett, Jett,” I moan his name insufferably as my heart and my pussy and my blood pumps faster. Fluid gushing from me swiftly, soaking us both with hot sticky arousal.
My entire existence is both confined and liberated in those few short, blazing seconds as I’m owned by the man of my choosing.
I’ve barely made it back down to earth before Jett flips me onto my back.
Taking charge, he laces our fingers and pins my hands over my head, all while he continues to thrust fluidly through the slippery passageway my pussy has become.
“You’re so fucking warm.” He burrows in deeper as I splay my legs wider. “And soft and wet. And mine. You are all fucking mine.” He claims me, and I love it. I want it. Want to be his.
“There’s you and me, and then there’s everything fucking else, right?” He wants a declaration, and I will gladly give it.
“Yes,” I sigh as our bodies continuously join. As he stretches and fills and elicits sensations I never thought I could feel.
“Say it.”
“There’s you and me, and then there’s everything fucking else.”
“Again,” he groans.
“There’s you and me, and then there’s everything fucking else.” We look straight into each other’s eyes. We bond. We conjoin. We solidify.
My mind and body and soul are the barest they’ve ever been, yet I’m not scared or ashamed or apologetic for the way I feel. For the way I let go. Abruptly, everything feels so perfectly right.
Jett suddenly smiles. A warm expression that heats my heart.
“What?”
“We’re finally flying, little bird.”
My eyes well with joyous tears as I realize I no longer have to fight to fly. I no longer have to fight to live.
Jett kisses each of my eyes, catching the salty drops that escape with his lips. He has finally broken down my stone walls and rebuilt them with windows so he could shine through.
“Tell me you want me to fill you up,” he whispers seductively in my ear as he circles his hips, burying himself as deep as humanly possible.
I don’t hesitate as my body bows. “I want to feel you fill me up.”
“Tell me I’m the only one who comes inside you,” he growls as his cock swells and my pussy constricts. It doesn’t want to let him go.
“You’re the only one.” I exhale harder as the ache between my legs returns with a vengeance.
“Tell
me how much you love to feel it.” He swirls the tip of his tongue over my lips as I speak.
“I love it. I love watching your face. I love how you grab me. I love how warm my pussy gets when it’s filled with your come.” I tell him all the dirty things he wants to hear. All the dirty things that will get him off. “I love to feel it drip between my thighs—”
“Fuck!” Jett smothers my mouth and squeezes my hands so hard they hurt. I could go on about how much I love it when he comes inside me, but he cut me off. Which is fine, because his erratic hips are feeding the ravenous feeling inside me. The balls of his piercing massaging the sensitive path to my g-spot, and the head of his cock is hitting me square in the unbearable ache.
Everything around us evaporates as together we hit our stride. As I break apart beneath him while he shatters to pieces above me, ensnared in mind-erasing ecstasy as our fluids mix.
In the wake of prodigious pleasure, it’s just us in this brand-new world, where I discover peace is not a thing, but a person.
I LAY EUPHORICALLY WITH LONDON in my arms. She’s the only woman who can make me feel lighter than a feather. And now, she really is all mine. Her mind, her body, her soul, and all her secrets. I meant it when I said I was her North Star. I’ll guide her out of the darkness and into the light.
Brushing my fingers lightly over her arm as she lays on my chest, I stare at the white ceiling.
So much pain in her past. So much suffering and anguish. It amazes me how she survived. How she’s still so strong. The tribulations in my life pale in comparison to what she’s endured. I found a diamond in the rough, and I plan to place it in the most beautiful setting imaginable. I plan to display it, cherish it, and covet it.
She’ll never know anything other than unconditional love.
“London?”
“Mmm?” she replies tranquilly.
“Do you know anything about the man who held you captive?”