Reclaim Me

by A. O. Peart

  She moaned loudly, shamelessly riding my mouth, seeking her release. I wanted to give it to her. I wanted her to feel again how I used to quench her raging need. Then I would own her, and she would beg to be taken. Her scream announced her first orgasm; and there would be more, many more, just the way it had been before.

  Willow sagged, and I eased her down to the floor. I knelt by her and kissed her mouth, letting her taste her own arousal.

  “What are you doing to me?” she whispered.

  “I’m taking care of you, baby,” I whispered back.

  I slid my hands under her and picked her up. She was so light, I carried her with ease. I hoped that everything tonight would be easy, and beautiful, and unforgettable—I fully intended it to be. This was just the beginning. I had to show her, so she would want this as much as I already did.

  “You’re mine tonight,” I whispered against her mouth.

  She didn’t protest. I carried her to my bedroom, kissing her mouth and throat, trying to get there as fast as I could.

  Willow moaned into my mouth, her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me toward her, owning me. Yes, she owned me, she always had. What I felt for her was indescribable, raw, and pure. She was everything I’d ever wanted in a woman. And I needed her to feel the same about me.

  I pushed the door to my bedroom open, and in two long strides I was by the bed with Willow in my arms. Gently, I lowered her down and, without breaking the kiss, levered over her, supporting myself on my hands and knees. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around my waist while her fingers flexed in my hair.

  It was just like before—as if what we’d had never ended. I couldn’t let her go this time. She was mine forever, no matter how many years we were separated, no matter all the lovers I’d taken. It had always been her—only in another body, called by another name; but to me, they had always been Willow.

  I rolled us over so she was on top, her thighs pressing into my hips and her pussy riding my crotch. I had to get out of my jeans to feel her, to enter her in one hard thrust. God, I wanted her like I’d never wanted anyone before.

  My hands found the hem of her shirt and pulled it up. She seemed so attuned to me that I didn’t have to say a word before she had her arms up and helped me remove the shirt.

  Watching her straddle me, while dark heat danced in her eyes, made me want to come right then, with maybe just a little help from her hand, but I stopped myself. This was pure heaven, not a sidewalk in hell, and I intended to fully enjoy it without rushing the journey. No matter how desperate I was, I needed to worship her and then to possess her fully—in body and in spirit. She was my goddess, the answer to my prayers. I couldn’t fuck this up.

  Her bra slid up, partially covering her. Slowly, I pushed it down, tucking the thin fabric under her breasts. Her small, pink nipples engorged, begging for my touch. I would give her whatever she desired, whatever she asked for. Gently but firmly, I squeezed those gorgeous nipples, rolling them between my thumbs and index fingers. Willow rewarded me with a sharp intake of air and a guttural cry of pure bliss.

  She grasped my biceps, supporting herself so she could kiss me. Her hips were undulating with enough force to make me want to beg for release. Her pussy started to slam down hard onto my cock, and my only thought—my body’s only objective— was to fuck her senseless. We both needed this, more than air, more than sleep, more than anything in life. We needed down and dirty sex, so our breathless bodies became replete and exhausted.

  I lifted her off me and slammed her down onto her back. She moaned my name, immediately reaching her arms out to me and shamelessly spreading her legs wide. I pulled my t-shirt off and carelessly threw it behind me. It landed somewhere on the floor. Next, I hurriedly unbuttoned my jeans, while keeping my eyes trained on her.

  I didn’t want to miss a thing—not a single intake of breath, or a single flick of her tongue darting in and out of her mouth. I wanted to be inside her everywhere—in her pussy, her ass, her mouth. Hell, I wanted to crawl under her skin and stay there as long as she’d let me.

  Her hand found my zipper and she pulled it down, releasing my engorged cock. It sprung free, jutting out and demanding immediate entry.

  I’d gone commando. The truth was that I’d had find some relief while she was sleeping. I couldn’t stand the fact she was so close, but so far away. I kept pacing around my bedroom with my erection growing uncomfortably. My hand just found its way to my cock and I pumped, finally releasing hot cum in short, powerful spurts, while screaming Willow’s name in my mind. Some of the cum got onto my boxers, so I’d taken them off. I hadn’t bothered to find another pair, because right then I’d heard Willow walking upstairs.

  So, there I was, with my penis brazenly jutting out from between the opened zipper of my jeans and no boxers to confine it. Then she was right there, her tongue darting in and out of her luscious mouth, teasing and promising so much. She wrapped her lips around the wide head of my cock and slowly slid her mouth downward, while keeping her half-closed eyes on my face.

  Good God, I wanted to fuck her hard while chasing after my quickly waning self-control.

  “Willow.” I gritted my teeth. “I can’t hold on. You’re gonna make me come before I satisfy you.” I warned. “I don’t want that.”

  “I already got mine.” Her voice was sultry, her eyes slightly rolling upwards.

  I knew that look—she was about to come while sucking me off. I pulled out of her blissful mouth and pushed her roughly down onto her back. For a fleeting moment she looked surprised and unsure of what was going on.

  “Spread your legs wider,” I commanded in a voice that brooked no denial. “Now,” I barked, pushing my jeans down my hips. Taking my cock in my hand, I pumped it a few times. Not that I needed to, but because that turned her on.

  As expected, her eyes were locked on my hand, her opened mouth silently pleaded to be fucked. But that wasn’t my plan. I wanted to fuck her pussy first. I wanted to relentlessly drive in and out of her, slamming hard into her, because that’s how my Willow liked me to do her. I remembered it all. I knew all her desires and responses. I was familiar with her body and with every little thing that stimulated her nerves and drove her crazy. And tonight I was going to remind her of everything I used to do to immerse her in pure pleasure.

  She bent her knees and brought them up and out to the sides, fully exposing her gorgeous pussy. She remembered how I liked it. I enjoyed looking at her perfect body, seeing the grimace of ecstasy on her face, and hearing her heavy breathing and her tiny, impatient moans.

  That was all I could take. I crawled over her, with my hands flat on the bed, on both sides of her head, and my knees right under her elevated thighs. We were perfectly aligned. The head of my cock bobbed over her slick cleft, and she screamed, pushing her hips upward. “Jack, please, now! Jack!”

  I slammed hard into her, sliding easily into her slippery opening. I drove hard, thumping into her and holding her around her tiny waist. Her breasts jiggled up and down, mesmerizing me. I rotated my hips, moving her hips in the same way. Her upper body followed, and now her breasts deliciously swiveled too. She spread her arms to the sides and closed her eyes, letting me lead her any way I wanted. That was a sign of trust. She hadn’t forgotten. She remembered it all. Us—she remembered us.

  My heart swelled at the response of her body. I was falling for her all over again. How was that possible if I’d never stopped loving her?

  Willow threw one arm over her eyes and grabbed the sheet with the other. She arched her back, and I knew she was about to come again. I kept thrusting into her, barely restraining my own climax. Wet, sucking sounds of lovemaking, together with the sound of skin slapping on skin were driving me crazy.

  “Willow, baby. Come for me,” I muttered, my voice straining.

  And then she let go. With a long, throaty groan she came, squeezing me hard, pulling me in, and making me lose myself in passion. I exploded inside her, experiencing the most exquisite orgasmic
sensation. I collapsed on top of her, burying my face in her hair, and inhaling her intoxicating scent. I wanted to stay like this forever. Something kept niggling at me, telling me that I hadn’t won just yet; that the fight to get Willow back had just begun.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jack’s body was wrapped around me, as if keeping me in a warm, protective cocoon. My thoughts were scattered. I felt so out of it that trying to form even one coherent thought was beyond me.

  All I wanted now was to fall asleep. I couldn’t do anything else—physically or mentally. I felt as if I’d expelled all my energy and was left with just enough to breathe and maybe move a little.

  I even slurred my words when I said, “Jack, I’m falling asleep.”

  And that was it. I was out—for how long? I didn’t really know. When I finally woke up, I was wrapped in a thick, fuzzy blanket and there was a pillow under my head. I opened my eyes and looked around, but Jack wasn’t in the room. I sat up, the blanket sliding off me. I was completely naked under it, which wasn’t a surprise. But realizing the reason why I was naked raised some questions: What should I do now? What will Jack do? Was having sex with him going to change anything? And if so, did I really want that? What if I got hurt again? No, I wouldn’t let any man hurt me ever again. I’d learned my lesson.

  Determined, but still confused, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. A pair of male slippers was there, neatly arranged right under my waiting feet. That was strange. Did Jack bring them here for me? I didn’t think he was a slipper-wearing guy. At the foot of the bed was a long, rectangular ottoman, and on top of it lay a thick, white bathrobe. Huh. That was another surprise. If the bathrobe was for him, he would be either wearing it now, or he would be lying in bed. So it must’ve been left here for me, too.

  I frowned, lost in thought, when the door to the bedroom cracked opened. “It’s me. Can I come in?” Jack’s voice announced.

  Oddly, I had an urge to pull something up to cover my nakedness, as if he hadn’t already seen me in all my glory a few hours earlier. I mentally rolled my eyes at myself and answered him, “Yes, sure. Come in.”

  But as soon as he opened the door a bit wider, I changed my mind and dashed for the bathrobe. I couldn’t help it. I felt exposed and embarrassed, as if we were strangers. Jack’s eyes opened wide at my sudden movement, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, his lips twitched in a barely suppressed smile.

  He wore a pair of distressed, loose jeans that sat low on his hips. His naked torso was a true feast for the eyes. Perfectly sculpted shoulders and chest, a six-pack, and a small waist that made my mouth water. Did I just have sex with this man? Wow. Was this really the same Jack I used to date in high school? Those six years did wonders for his body.

  He carried a tray with a hot tea steeping in a glass teapot, two small mugs, and something else that I couldn’t see from that distance.

  “Are you a tea drinker?” I asked stupidly, as if a guy couldn’t be a tea lover. “I mean, I thought you preferred coffee.”

  “I don’t usually drink tea, but I thought I would make you a cup and join you as well.”

  “That’s nice of you. I’m impressed you actually have the teapot and tea, especially if it’s not your drink of choice.” I tied the bathrobe belt around my waist and smoothed the bed, making some space for the tray.

  “I don’t want to disappoint you, but in all honesty, my mom gave me the teapot and the tea a long time ago. So this is the first time I’ve even used it.” He laughed. “The teapot is clean, don’t worry. I just washed it.”

  I remembered his mom. She was a gorgeous woman, always carefully made-up and well dressed. I recalled that their house smelled of cookies and that, whenever I came over, she wore an impeccably-tailored apron around her waist and elegant high heels, just like some perfect fifties wife.

  Jack watched me curiously, his body relaxed. I felt skittish. Was I nervous? Spooked? I didn’t know for sure, but I was far from comfortable. I hated it. I had to say something, do something; but what? Here I was, having tea with this gorgeous guy who used to rock my world, who’d just made me come twice, and I didn’t know what to say. What was wrong with me? He was trying really hard to make this nice for me, but it didn’t make it any easier.

  I stood up, careful not to disturb the tea he just poured into my cup, and walked to the window. It was already dark, and the street lamps cast long shafts of light, illuminating the falling rain. A man in a black trench coat walked a small dog. He carried a large umbrella above his head. A silver Volvo stopped and parked in front of the house across the street from Jack’s, and a woman in over-the-knee boots got out from the driver’s side. She ran to the front door and pushed a key into the deadbolt, went inside, and shut the door behind her.

  Life appeared to keep on going in its normal way around us. Nobody was bothered by the fact that Jack and I seemingly forgot our six year breakup and, just like that, got back together. Or did we? Were we back together? No, I didn’t think so. Rubbing my hands over the bathrobe’s arms, I turned around and looked at Jack. He reclined on the bed, watching me.

  “Hey,” he said. “I know this might be totally weird for you now. But don’t feel like you owe me anything, or you have to do something you don’t want. I liked what just happened between us, I really liked it, but I can tell that you’re not so sure. Look, the last thing I want is to pressure you into something you don’t want to do. Let’s just drink this tea and relax. We can talk later. Sound good?”

  It did sound good. I was actually worried that he was already expecting us to stay together for good. I wasn’t ready. But I also never slept around, and that was something I had to make sure he knew.

  Before I had a chance to delve into that subject, Jack waggled his eyebrows and smiled. “I have a surprise for you. Wanna see?” He pointed to something under a napkin. “I have a feeling you’re gonna like it.”

  I walked closer and lifted up the napkin. Six round chocolate truffles, each speckled with a different color sprinkles, sat on a small plate, looking as cute as little mushrooms in a child’s picture book.

  I grinned and slowly shook my head from side to side. “You’re full of surprises, Jack McCoy.”

  He shrugged, feigning indifference. “I try.”

  “I keep misjudging you.” I sat down on the bed, the tray between us.

  “How is that?”

  “Well, first the tea and now the chocolates. I never would’ve thought you had stuff like that here. You know … it’s not really a guy thing.”

  “I have a fridge full of beer, if that makes you feel better.” One corner of his mouth lifted in the tiniest smile.

  I watched him, trying to decipher his mood. I still wasn’t sure how he felt about what happened between us. He said he really liked it, but other than that I didn’t know anything else. This was so awkward, so absurdly complicated.

  Jack motioned to the chocolates with his chin. “Try one.”

  I leaned over and plucked one of the truffles. Jack watched me from under half-closed lids, a tiny, enigmatic smile dancing on his lips. I smelled the chocolate. Its fragrance was potent and alluring. Slowly, I lowered myself onto the bed and kept inhaling the rich smell of the truffle.

  “Is that some kind of a connoisseur thing to do? Sniffing the truffles before you eat them?” Jack picked one of the chocolates and followed my lead.

  I burst out in laughter. “I have no idea! But I always smell chocolate before I devour it.” I kept giggling. Why was I giggling like an idiot? Maybe I was nervous, or maybe what he said was especially funny. My brain couldn’t quite make up its mind.

  Jack grinned at me and took a bite. “Cool.”

  “What?”

  “There is something inside. Some kind of fruit.”

  “Cherry?”

  “You tell me.” Very slowly and deliberately he licked the remaining half of the truffle in his hand.

  Something stirred inside me—something even more delicious than chocolat
e. I didn’t want to dwell on it, because I suspected what was happening. My body wanted Jack, while my mind was screaming against it. I had feelings for him, I knew that now. But what exactly were those feelings? Maybe I simply felt indebted to him for taking care of me and standing up to Seth. Or maybe there was more—something that had never died.

  “Yep, definitely a cherry,” he announced, pulling me out of my deep thoughts.

  I knew what he was doing—he was trying to lighten the mood and put me at ease. I appreciated it because I was confused and completely unsure of what the best thing to do was. I needed more time to think. I also wanted to talk with Rita and see what she would do in my position. I could trust her to give me good advice.

  There was no denying, though, that sex with Jack was mind-blowing, even better than I remembered. He was everything I wanted in a man: attentive, strong, skilled, and gentle, but at the same time domineering enough without going overboard.

  Absentmindedly, I reached for the second chocolate and inhaled its aroma. I almost jumped when I realized Jack’s eyes were focused on me. There was a curious expression on his face.

  “I’m sorry. I kind of spaced out,” I said.

  “It’s okay. I enjoy watching you.” His voice was soft and gentle. He lifted one of two mugs and offered it to me. “It’s not as hot as it was before. You can drink it now.”

  I wrapped my hands around the mug. Warm air wafted from the liquid and caressed my face. It felt good, like a well-worn flannel shirt: comfortable and familiar. “Thank you, Jack.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said quietly.

  “I mean for everything.” I lifted my gaze to him. “You walked back into my life last night, and so much has happened since. Everything you’ve done was great, so I wanted to thank you for being … a friend. Uhm, well, that didn’t sound like what—”

  “It’s okay,” he interrupted, saving me from my own convoluted explanation. I wasn’t even sure where I was going with it. “No gratitude necessary, Willow. I’m glad to help, and I don’t expect anything in return.”