by Dani Wyatt
I jerked my leg sideways and kicked my chair back so hard it almost fell over.
“Where are you going baby?”
“To get some water.”
“There’s water right here silly. Come on, let’s dance!” She looked up, leaned on the table and tried to stand up. The tendrils of her intricate up-do falling in highlighted streaks in her face. What a train wreck.
“No. I’ll be back.” I looked over at Chloe, sitting there with her eyes low, her teeth biting on her lower lip. Jesus, if she knew what she was doing to me sitting there looking like that.
I threw my head back, cracked my neck trying to release some of the tension from watching the freak show and my cock screaming at me for my babygirl across the table.
Just knowing she was sitting there thinking about me was almost more than I could take. I needed to take a walk and try to tame this beast that was quickly filling up my pants.
Of course I should have broken it off with Trixie before I left, but there was something that just didn't feel right. Chloe actually felt so bad, even though I told her so many times there was nothing but history holding Trix and me loosely together. She begged me not to break up with her before I deployed, and after she explained it to me, there was no way I wanted to make her life any harder than it already was.
Her fucked up parents had some twisted idea that their little blond princess somehow was more valuable than the sweet smoldering angel that had her fingers wrapped unwillingly around my heart. And, soon, around my cock, but not yet, she was worth waiting for.
She was the one, and I was going to do it all right for her. It was killing me not being able to feel the insides of her curve around my cock as I entered the first time, but we had to do it like I planned, for her benefit. Even in high school I had kept my eye on her. She was the little sister and jail bait, but looking back, even then I knew, I just didn’t want to admit it.
“Hurry back. And, bring me another . . .” Trix waved her empty glass in the air. I wasn’t getting her another drink, and the fact that she asked me to was just another nail in her coffin.
I gave my girl a quick nod as she looked up at me, careful not to let anyone see. She was so sweet, even when those bottom feeders treated her like a piece of shit, she still didn’t want to hurt them. She was a better person than me, because I would have firebombed the whole table if I had my way.
After I got a hold of my hard on and took about a hundred deep breaths, thank fuck when I got back to the table, all the garbage carp were on the dance floor falling all over each other. I slipped down next to my girl, careful to sit next to her but not on top of her like I wanted.
“They’re going to see us.” Her sweet glossy rose pink lips looked so beautiful, all I could think of was what they would feel like around my cock.
“I don’t give a fuck anymore. I’m ready to blow this whole shit show up right now babygirl.”
I slipped my hand down and my head felt like it was going to explode as I felt the sweet soft skin just above her knee. Of course, I couldn’t stop there, and found my way slowly upward, under the hem of her skirt, listening to her breathing get faster.
“Ryder . . . oh my god.” She lowered her head, whispering, looking like she was praying and I almost lost my shit knowing she liked it.
Only a few inches more, and I grazed at the outside of her panties, feeling her body jerk and twitch as my fingers opened her legs an inch under the white linen tablecloth. Her legs were shaking, and I looked up at her face to see her dark eyelashes flutter over her round, brown eyes.
“Open your legs.” I hissed in her ear knowing she would do whatever I asked.
“Ryder . . .” My name on her lips only made me detach from reality even more as I could feel the moisture even on the outside of her panties. The sweet, white, cotton lace trimmed panties that I had bought her yesterday just for tonight. If it wasn’t going to be my face, I wanted to know something from me was up against that sweet little naked pussy all night.
I rubbed softly on the outside of the crotch of the panties, watching her closely, she swallowed hard, and I knew I had to get my fingers up inside there and make her cum while she sat looking out at her evil sister and drunk parents dancing like they were riding the wave at Chateau Marmot.
So much for getting my cock under control on my little walk, that beast was back with a vengeance and I was thankful for the low light in the banquet hall. I could have fucked her by now, we had plenty of chances, plenty of time together over the couple weeks or so since I’d been back.
But, my girl wasn’t ready. She had some fucked up idea that because she wasn’t a bulimic skeleton hanger like her sister and her friends, that if I saw her naked I would run. Jesus, I had to teach this beauty her true value.
She sat there like a glorious diamond among the sewage of the room. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the enigma that was her. Beautiful, fuck yeah, sexy as hell with those lips, that sweet round face, those brown eyes that looked right through me.
But, it was more, she had the spirit of a broken colt, but the brain of a scholar and the talent of Raphael. Only, her family didn’t value any collateral other than the color green and some fucked up version of fake pageant beauty.
I thank Christ they had left her at least to be herself, sure, she needed me to help her remember how valuable she was, how inherently beautiful, but that would come along. She was natural and there was nothing make-up, hair color or silicone could ever do to improve on her.
“I want you to cum . . .” I whispered next to her ear.
“Ryder, please . . .” Her voice already raising into that sweet higher gear.
“Shhh, open . . .” I instructed.
She obeyed, thankfully, because I was about to scream “Fire” and get everyone the hell out of here if she held back any longer.
The feel of her slick wetness wrapping around my fingers had my cock tall and tight, ready to shred metal. But, my sweet angel needed this and I had to fight my own dog like nature to bring her the pleasure she deserved and let my own need wait.
She was getting close to being ready for me to take her for real, and after what was going to go down tonight, I was pretty fucking sure she would understand there was never going to be anyone else for me but her.
She was the one hung up on how she looked, I told her every chance I got how fucking sexy she was, how hard she made my cock. I wanted her to feel like she was the only person in the world when I was with her.
“God . . .” She lowered her face, barely able to keep her voice in check. It was just what I was looking for.
“You want Daddy’s fingers inside?” I whispered, keeping an scout eye out on the dance floor for the trio of trash to come sloshing back to the table. What I saw was a drunken mass of human waste pulsing and slipping on the slick wooden floor. Whatever they were laughing at was unclear to anyone that had decided to remain sober.
“Ryder, please, not here . . .” Her voice quivered as I worked inside her panties.
“Yes, here. You’re creaming all over my fingers, so just let it go babygirl. Tell Daddy you want his fingers inside you . . .” Watching her cheeks turn into crimson blazes of heat made me only want to see and hear her cum that much more.
Luckily, our table was in the back corner of the banquet hall, there were a couple drunks sitting at another eight top next to us, but they were oblivious.
She needed a push.
“Fucking say it . . .” I used my Sargent voice. I slid the tips of my fingers up and over her engorged little hard nub, giving it a good flick and rub while watching her eyes fall to half mast and her mouth take a little gasp.
I felt her hips take a quick hitch lower, giving me the access I needed to get into the deeper center of her heaven. If I was being honest with myself, what I really wanted to do was throw her down on the table and feast on her for supper, but instead, I had to settle for making her cum on my hand.
“I want your fingers inside me Daddy . .
.” She cocked her head lower, whispering in that babygirl voice that made me want to lose my shit.
Her hips shifted again, and I knew I had her. She couldn’t pretend with me, and I couldn’t with her. There were no hard edges between us, it was lightning bolt energy, like invisible fibers had sewn us together somewhere along the line.
My only frustration was her own lack of confidence in herself, but, like I said, the fucks that raised her had done that, and it was going to be my job to undo it.
Taking another quick look out at the trash trio, I took my middle finger and followed the hot, wet folds down until I felt that heavenly spot that pressed inside her innocent body. If I didn’t have my fingers moving inside my precious angel, I would have been filled with rage watching those fucks out there making assholes of themselves, but lucky for me, my baby was here and at least part of me was inside her.
She was purring next to me and I felt my cock pushing painfully up against the waist of my pants. It took a special part of my brain, something deep inside from my SEAL training to give me the discipline I needed to not ravage her right here and now.
I pressed inside, just beyond my first knuckle, letting the clutches of her virgin walls tense around my finger. Her flow didn’t waste any time starting to gush as I palmed her open slit, grinding against her engorged nub, back and forth, slipping in just far enough to tease her and give her a little jolt as I toyed with that special spot just inside.
Never had I dreamed I could actually have this ravenous feeling of possession and protection over a girl. I’d been with Trixie on and off since high school, but I’d fucked plenty of others in between. If I had to really be honest, the real reason I kept coming back to Trix, was that I was waiting for Chloe to be ready, or for me to be ready for her. No other girl had ever made me want her, not like this. I felt like she was born just for me and it was my job on this planet to take care of her.
Baby’s juices were streaming over my fingers, her breath was coming in short little gulps, I felt the clutch of her walls grab me like she was hanging onto my probing finger for life itself. I gave it everything she needed, my hand making circles in time with my slick finger pulsing in and out. She was close, I could feel it like a magnetic pulse that flowed between us.
“Mmmm . . .” She moaned, her hips cocked and her opening gushed all over my hand.
“That’s Daddy’s girl . . . cum baby . . .”
I knew it was all she needed, to hear me whisper that magic in her ear.
Her tiny hand fell low under the table to dig her nails into my wrist as I worked up under her skirt, her mouth opening and the most beautiful noises fell from her candy sweet lips. Feeling those little convulsions and the river of juice that come out of her almost made me fucking jizz in my pants.
There wasn’t anything I had been through, even during hell week, even all the missions that had left us running for our lives in Afghanistan, that trumped the kind of control I had to show right now over my own desire.
“Oh my god . . .” Her face dropped. Long, shimmering waves of her dark chestnut hair fell over her pink cheeks, and she shook and came all over my hand.
I gave her a second to gather herself, then I slowly slipped my dripping hand out from inside those sweet white panties. I could smell her on my fingers and I knew I had to take a break to spread that sweet slippery juice over my own granite rod in the men’s room and give myself some relief or the rest of this shit evening was going to be hell.
“I’ll be back babygirl.” I gave her a quick peck on the cheek making sure those fucks that call themselves family weren’t looking.
Her hand reached up to grab my wrist, those wide eyes had nothing on a baby doe and my heart seized up in my chest.
“Don’t go.”
“Baby, I have to, I just need a minute. Don’t move, I’ll be back and we’re going to light this shit up tonight. Okay? Don’t move.”
I looked down at her from under my brow. She didn’t always listen and we needed to work on that, but for now, I just needed to her mind this one thing while I took a minute to stroke her effect on me into some tissue in the bathroom.
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Chapter One
If she woke, she would scream, and Flynn would be dead.
Still, the only thing he could think of was how he wished he could touch her hair.
Even in the darkness he knew the color of that hair, with its waves and curls the color of a bright copper penny. One mile long spiral tumbled across the sky blue and white lace of the pillow cover, falling almost to the tips of her fingers where her arm hung like a lazy branch off the edge of the mattress.
He wanted to tangle his fingers in her hair’s softness and pull her face to his.
Behind her closed lids, her eyes could light the midnight sky in a glow of green and gold like a field of fresh grass and wild Daisies. But, she refused to open them, refused to let him see them one last time before he died. So, here he sat, waiting, hoping for just one more look.
Minutes earlier, her unmistakable scent hit him as he’d wiggled and strained to crawl through the window. Her floral sweetness tightened around his throat, reminding him that there was only one soul in this entire fucked up world that existed just for you. Only one.
The oak branch outside her window laughed as it’d held his 235 pounds of trained, fighting muscle thirty feet off the ground. The less-than-solid wood had mocked and squeaked as it held his fate.
The gargantuan century old Tudor that held her prisoner stood in its own grand darkness against the onyx sky. Tired grey clouds covering the sliver of silver moon light which fought to reveal his entry.
Below him, windows cut with diamond-shaped, beveled glass still glowed from the first floor where legions of evil plans were laid for both strangers and family alike.
Inside, shadows moved, stepping then stalling, turning toward the world outside while Flynn felt his warm blood trickle down his bicep—the cut inflicted by a rusty wire that had caught him on the back fence around the historic estate.
Lilly, I’m here. I might die tonight. I don’t give a shit. I’ll die and your face will be the last thing I see. I’ll go knowing I was this close to touching you again. Nothing else in this fucking life matters anymore, so what the fuck do I care. Live. Die. I’m not even sure I know the difference anymore.
Rubbing his hands over his face, Flynn sat in the chair, watching. The dull throbbing from his swollen, purple left eye did not register as pain. Last night’s fight an easy mark, a quick $500 to keep him hidden for another night until he could come here and say goodbye.
Wake up. Wake the hell up so that they can kill me. If they do, I won’t have to look at you for another day. When I die, we die . . . or the beautiful disaster we could have been will die. For one fucking moment, the empty space in my chest felt a beat—a warmth—and now it’s ice again. But, that’s for the best. I was never cut out for this. For you.
Lilly’s eyes moved beneath the thin veil of her lids. Without a hint of surprise, she looked at Flynn as though she’d expected him to be there, her focused glow of green and gold on him like a cheetah deciding which angle of attack would be most efficient.
“I hate you.” She went straight for the kill.
“I know.” Flynn sucked in some air, the sound of her voice weaving a noose around his neck.
Flynn caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over her bed, his face cast in half-shadow by the moon. He looked like a man who had nothing to lose.
“I love you,” Flynn whispered.
“I know.” Lilly’s eyes keened on him, her voice sadly resigned.
“Come with me. Right now, we’ll disappear.”
Flynn knew it was pure folly, but he was about to die, so he let his fantasy take flight in the streaks of moonlight that filled the air between them.
Flynn Dunleavy—the bastard son of the i
nfamous Colin Dunleavy, marked by his mother's hot green eyes and his father’s elegant symmetry of features. He was equal parts lean fighting-thug and Detroit, mob royalty.
“That’s impossible. I’m already invisible. I don’t exist. And soon, you won’t either.” Lilly brushed the tangle of waves and curls off her translucent pink cheeks as she shifted under the stark white bedding and leaned, half sitting, against the pile of pillows at her back.
“Why haven’t you screamed yet?”
“I’m playing with you. Isn’t that why you’re here?” The forced cheerfulness in her voice shining light on the hopelessness it tried to hide. “What made you decide to speak to me? I’ve gotten used to the silent stare. I think I’ve enjoyed wondering what’s been going on inside that head of yours more than actually knowing.”
He watched her hands pull at the covers, then wrap around the lush curve of her waist. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful, to silence the insecurity that told her somehow her glorious soft lines made her less-than.
“It took me a long time to decide what to say is all.”
“It’s been almost a month since you spoke to me.”
“I had a lot to think about.”
Flynn could see the almost imperceptible movement of her pulse just below her jaw. His own blood rushed downward, filling the length under his pants even as he realized that he would die without ever discovering the dream of binding himself to her.
“So, you’re here. All I have to do is scream, and they'll come. It will take them a few seconds to get through the locks, but it won’t be enough time for you to get away. After a month of thinking, do you have anything interesting to say?”
Her eyelashes fluttered. He could see the way the blood flushed and blotched over the swell of her chest. Her hair, an utter mess, only made him want her more. And, the way she looked so fragile yet so fierce told the story of the years that had molded both of them into the broken soldiers of their family duty.
“No.” Flynn choked on the word because he had so much to say, and yet nothing to say.