God, Spike is more screwed up than I ever gave him credit for, not to mention, cruel. Shaking my head, I try to find the words to deny his claim, but they never come because he’s one hundred percent right. It will be him I remember when I’m with Lyric, just not for the reasons Spike thinks.
My mind will turn to him because while what he did to me physically was horrible and the emotional turmoil I felt as he violated every inch of my body and soul horrific, making me question my faith in my husband’s ability to protect me was worse.
In his brutality, Spike managed to do the one thing I never thought possible; make me distrust Lyric. Why wasn’t he here? What was so important that he changed his plans without telling me? How could he not of known how dangerous his best friend is?
These weren’t the only questions I asked myself as Spike raped me. My mind wandered to all the times I recall, Lyric observing Spike with a strange look on his face, making me wonder what he saw there. Did Lyric see the darkness that lurks beneath Spike’s seemingly harmless exterior? Did my husband sense the evil running through Spike’s veins and keep it to himself? And if he did, why would Lyric put me at risk like that? Why would he jeopardize everything we are, everything we could have been? Does Spike mean that much to him? Is their brotherhood bond that much more important than Lyric’s marriage to me?
Spike’s grin widens as my lips start to quiver, and my eyes fill with unshed tears.
“I see you’re getting it, precious. And to clear it up for you, just in case you have any doubts, you will never come first. Not in this lifestyle. Not when he’s still a member of this MC. He loves you, sure, but just not enough to leave all this behind,” Spike says, gesturing to the clubhouse at large.
“Stop. Please, stop,” I cry softly.
Leaning against the countertop, Spike inhales sharply.
“I’m only going to say this once, so listen fucking closely, precious. You’ve got a choice to make. If you keep your mouth shut, keep what happened here today between us, and find a way to get the fuck out of town within the next six months, I won’t kill your boyfriend. But…” he smiles, drawing out the word, “if you decide to tell my bud that I fucked that pretty little cunt of yours raw, I’ll torture your boyfriend in front of you before I end him, and then I’ll put a bullet between your eyes for good measure.”
Not giving me a second to breathe, let alone think, Spike snarls,
“Now choose.”
Needless to say, I did what he said and chose. I chose Lyric’s life over my own sanity. I chose my husband’s life over my own, because as of the moment Spike walked out of the clubhouse kitchen to join his brothers, the last ounce of hope and redemption I had been holding onto died.
*****
“Baby,” Lyric murmurs, far closer now than he was before I got lost in my nightmares. “Jesus, you’re fucking shaking. Tell me what’s wrong, Harleigh,” he says, his voice becoming a demand, no longer a suggestion.
“I can’t,” I whisper, for once telling him the truth.
“You can’t or you won’t?”
“I can’t,” I repeat.
“Bullshit,” Lyric spits angrily. “You fucking can, you just don’t want to. There’s a big fucking difference, baby.”
He doesn’t get it, I think, shaking my head sadly. If he did, Lyric would understand that in this case, they are one and the same.
“I know, but that doesn’t change my answer. If you ever trusted me, please believe that if I could tell you, I would.”
“I’ve always trusted you, Harleigh. There has never been a day I haven’t,” he admits, breaking my heart all over again because I can’t say the same.
As if he’s been struck by lightning, Lyric’s eyes widen, his eyebrows draw together harshly, and he clenches his jaw.
“Fucking hell,” he hisses. “That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t trust me. For whatever bullshit reason you’ve come up with, you don’t trust me.”
That’s when I snap.
Year of holding in secrets and pain that’s been eating me alive, consuming every shred of goodness left inside me explodes in an instant, and all that’s left in its wake is anger. Soul crushing, bone-deep anger.
“Fuck. You!” I shout. “You wouldn’t know the first thing about how I feel because you weren’t there.”
At this moment, the ramifications of what I’m saying is of no consequence to me. After this, there’s a good chance Lyric will be left as broken as I am, but I can’t find it in myself to care. Not now. Not when his accusation that my reasons behind my lack of trust in him are flippant and insignificant.
“What the hell are you talking about? I’ve always been there for you,” Lyric fires back.
“No. No, you haven’t,” I deny vehemently.
“From the second I laid eyes on you, I’ve taken care of you, Harleigh, and nothing’s changed. I’ll take care of you until the day I die and beyond if I can find a way to make that happen.”
The sincerity in his voice nearly overrides my anger at him. Nearly. But now that I’ve let it loose – let the rage that’s been building free – nothing can restrain it.
“I beg to differ,” I argue. “You weren’t there to take care of me when I needed you most. If I remember correctly, you were at Hounds getting drunk with your brothers when your best friend was busy raping me.”
I don’t give what I’ve said a chance to sink in before continuing. Now that I’ve started, I have to finish. For my own sake, I have to get it all out.
“You weren’t there afterward when I was washing away the evidence of what he did to me either. When I cried myself to sleep every night for months, you slept through it. You were never there to hold me, tell me everything would be okay, or help me fight the demons running rampant in my dreams.”
Tears are cascading down my cheeks, and Lyric’s eyes are wet too, but I still don’t stop.
“While I was struggling with panic attacks every day, you were shooting pool and drinking beer with the man who caused them. I was constantly looking over my shoulder so scared that one day he would come back and finish the job that I thought I would go insane with it.”
“Jesus. Fucking hell, baby. I’m so sorry. So goddamn sorry,” Lyric rasps hoarsely. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have fucking killed him for touching you, for even thinking about it.”
“Because he said he would kill you,” I scream, backing myself into the far corner of the room.
“What?” Lyric breathes.
“I trusted you to protect me,” I sob. “I thought I was safe, that if I had you in my life nothing would ever hurt me, but I was wrong. So, so wrong.”
“Baby…” Lyric groans, approaching me cautiously like I’m a wild, injured animal. And I suppose to some degree I am. At least, I feel like one. Terrified, confused, and ready to run at a moment’s notice. Yeah, that describes how I feel perfectly.
“Don’t come any closer. Just…just stay over there,” I all but plead.
“No. Actually, fuck no.”
“You don’t get to say no, Lyric. The damage is done, there is no salvaging this. I’m broken, Lyric. Fucking broken,” I admit without any hesitation whatsoever.
“The last thing you are is broken, baby. You’re the strongest woman I know,” he contends. “We’ll get to who the motherfucker who hurt you is soon, but right now, I need you to explain what you just said.”
My pulse speeds up, the adrenaline that races through my blood stream making the words tumble from my mouth effortlessly without a seconds thought.
“I didn’t leave you because I was raped; I left because your life was in danger. It probably still is. He didn’t put an expiration date on his threat to kill you if I ever told you what he’d done. I had a choice, and I made it; stay quiet and leave town, or watch you die before he killed me too. I would never have left you if it was only my life hanging in the balance, but it wasn’t. It was yours too, and I couldn’t live with that. I couldn’t live every day knowing that he could h
urt you and it would be all my fault.
“God, baby, no,” my husband says, caging me in with his strong arms resting on either side of my head. “None of it was your fault, then or now. Do you hear me?” He asks when my eyes drift to the floor by our feet. “None. Of. This. Is. Your. Fault.”
Cupping my jaw in his work-roughened palm, Lyric tilts my head back until our gazes are locked. Time ticks by slowly as I lose myself in his cerulean blue eyes so tormented by pain and hurt, flashing every so often with fury that I don’t know how long elapses before his lips find mine.
Lyric’s kiss is slow, gentle even, which is a feat in and of itself for him. Usually, they are demanding, hungry, as if he’s ravenous for me, or at least they used to be. Back when his kisses were part of my everyday life, that is.
However, the memory of Lyric’s mouth on mine is nothing in comparison to the reality of it. His lips are warm and soft. Comforting at the same time as they are unnerving. I don’t want to admit it, but this is what I’ve missed about him the most. The way Lyric can break me apart and then put me back together again with one touch of his lips is his greatest superpower and my greatest weakness.
CHAPTER SEVEN
~ Lyric ~
Time stands still as I explore Harleigh’s mouth. My tongue slides against hers in a sensuous dance we’ve done a million times before, but for some inexplicable reason, this feels like a first for us.
I’ve been kissing this woman since the day she turned fifteen and begged me to be her first. Not just kiss, but everything. Harleigh told me she didn’t care how many girls I’d been with or if I’d had sex with half the women in Colorado, she wanted me regardless. What she didn’t know was that I was as inexperienced as her. Not when it came to kissing, that I’d done plenty of, but when it came to sex I didn’t have the first clue what I was doing.
Now before you go thinking that I’m a sick fuck for defiling a minor, Harleigh and I didn’t sleep together then, and that wasn’t for lack of trying on her part. But I stayed strong, no matter how hard she made it for me to keep my hands to myself.
Or I should say, how hard she made me because Jesus fucking Christ did Harleigh make me hard. My cock was in a constant state of arousal around her. I was a 24/7 walking boner factory, and I loved every second of it.
My girlfriend was naturally sexy, but my wife is insanely fucking hot. When we were young, every time Harleigh touched me, it was as if my skin burned and my body came alive. Sure, I’d had hard-on’s before; I jerked off as much as any other teenage boy, but nothing made me as hard as the brush of Harleigh’s soft hands across my stomach. The anticipation alone was enough to nearly have me coming in my pants, and not much has changed since.
Breathing in her scent, I go slowly, not wanting to scare her with my need to possess her. Harleigh has just shared something that should have me wanting to tear her room apart, destroy everything in sight with the raw fury at the knowledge some sick motherfucker hurt her. But instead, I want nothing more than to comfort her; to hold her close and show her the best way I know how much I love her.
“Lyric,” Harleigh murmurs, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“Yeah, baby?” I ask, reluctantly pulling my mouth from hers.
“I don’t think…”
“Don’t think, Harleigh,” I say, coaxing her to lie back on the bed. “Just feel. I’m not going to fuck you, baby. All I want is to taste you. I want to make you come so hard you forget everything but what’s going on between your legs while I eat your pussy.”
Haleigh’s head thumps against the mattress as she lets out a heavy sigh signaling her defeat. I didn’t expect any less. My woman has never been able to resist my mouth on her, and it’s good to see some things never change.
Things move quickly after that. I’d like to say I took the time to imprint myself on my wife, that I savored, caressed, and cherished every inch of skin between her perfect mouth and soaking wet pussy, but that would be a fucking lie. I didn’t. I dove right in and tore her panties off, burying myself between her creamy thighs.
Lapping at Harleigh’s cunt, I roughly shove my hands underneath her and cup the firm globes of her ass. She tastes like peaches and cream on my tongue, the sweet smell of her pussy juices, the wetness already coating the plump lips of her sex has me ravenous to see if she’ll taste even better when she comes all over my face.
“Oh God,” she moans as I suck her clit into my mouth.
“Not God, baby, just the man who loves you,” my voice rumbles as I lick her relentlessly from front to back.
Harleigh’s hands spear into my hair, tugging me closer. If I could, I would bury myself inside her and never leave. The heaven of her tight, wet, made for me pussy is all I need. I could live off Harleigh’s orgasms alone. That thought alone makes me exponentially harder. My cock is aching to slam inside of her, to see if my memories of fucking her are as good as the real thing. I doubt it; they never are.
Releasing her clit, I flick my tongue over the stiff bud and work two thick fingers into her core. Instantly, her inner muscles clamp down on them with a vice-like grip, her pussy spasms rhythmically while my fingers set a steady pace. In, out, in, out, stroking the almost hidden bundle of nerves I know will set off her orgasm in record time.
Right on cue, Harleigh whimpers,
“Please. Lyric please, I need more.”
So I give her more because I’m helpless to do anything but.
Opening her legs up as wide as I can, her thighs tighten around my ears as I stroke, lick, and suck her pussy lips with my tongue, alternating between rubbing her G-spot and plunging my fingers inside her cunt to the hilt.
She cries out my name, loudly, when I slow things down, drawing her pleasure out until she’s blind with it. Because at the end of the day, that’s what I want the most. Harleigh blind with lust, reveling in what only I can make her feel.
The insistent throbbing of my cock behind the zipper of my jeans prompts me to pop the top button and unzip to give him room to breathe. This, what I’m doing to my wife, isn’t about me getting off or mutual satisfaction; it’s all for her. I’ll take a thousand cold showers if I have to. I’ll jerk off dozens of times to relieve the pressure building in my balls if that’s what it takes to prove to Harleigh, pleasuring her is all that matters to me.
Giving the base of my cock a tight squeeze, telling him to calm the hell down, I double down my focus and employ every trick I’ve learned about Harleigh’s body and use it to my advantage.
My two fingers become three as I scissor them in and out of her cunt, causing her to scream my name and tear at my hair. She’s so close to coming, but I don’t want to push her over just yet. Harleigh’s going to have to promise not to cut and run after I’m done if she wants me to give her the release I’ve been denying her.
“Promise me,” I rumble against her overly sensitive clit.
Breathily Harleigh moans,
“Promise you what?”
“Promise me you’re not going anywhere. That you won’t leave this room before I’ve had a chance to explain things to you,” I groan when the first gush of her cream coats my tongue.
“Oh. Oh, Lyric. Yes,” her moans turn to pants.
Locking eyes with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I don’t say a word; I don’t have to. Harleigh knows what I want from her, and in this case, it’s her acquiescence. Her agreement to hear me out. She may not want to cover old ground, but between her admission and the recent changes in my life, we have a lot of shit to talk about.
Almost so softly that I don’t catch it, Harleigh murmurs,
“I promise.”
I move swiftly when she gives me the words I’m waiting for, and climb up her body after licking the seam of her pussy one final time. Aligning my body with hers, I hover over her, grinding my rigid cock against her softness.
The length of my dick is pressed along her slit; the head bumping against her clit with every rough thrust of my hips.
�
��Do you like that, Angel?” I whisper in her ear. “Has your pussy missed me? It sure as hell feels like it,” I add, rotating my hips until there’s not an inch of space left between us.
“Yes. God yes. I missed you so much,” Harleigh answers, her eyes pleading with me to ease the ache I caused.
Slanting my head, I cover her mouth with mine. I’ve missed this. Craved the connection we have, and not just in the bedroom. Harleigh is the other half of me and without her, I’ve been lost. As I plunge my tongue between her lips, letting her taste herself, I realize just how much I needed her beside me all these years.
It’s one thing to think the woman you are married to is the woman of your dream. However, it’s another thing entirely when the knowledge she’s the one sinks in. It hits me hard, knocking the wind out of me for a second before I get my shit together and thank God I have this second chance with her.
Yours: A Forever After Novella Page 4