by Nashoda Rose
This was what it was about. The feeling as if your heart beat right out of your chest and into theirs. Like you couldn’t take another breath without them. As if everything inside united and there were no questions. No uncertainties.
It was nature finding its path and we were on it.
“Baby.” I groaned as she gave in to my bruising kiss. There was no holding back with her and I’d always thought I’d have to be gentle and slow, but Haven’s need was as strong as mine.
Her hand wrapped in my hair at the back of my head and kept me locked to her lips, not that I was going anywhere. Her other hand was pressed into my lower back and then slid down to my ass.
Holy fuck.
I grabbed her arm and pulled her hand away, but I felt her smile beneath my lips as she moved it back the moment I let her arm go and she squeezed my ass.
“Fuck.” I tore from her arms, staggering back. My cock hurt so fuckin’ badly that it was a grenade with the pin pulled and I was not going to be some tool who came in his jeans.
When I looked at her with red lips, eyes flaming with heat, the messed up hair, it didn’t help. “Damn it. We have to stop.”
She smiled and yeah, that didn’t do much for my aching cock because Haven smiling was like being handed her soul in the palm of her hand.
Then she held out that hand.
I hesitated.
“My room or yours?” she asked.
“Huh?”
She raised her brows. “I want to feel all of you, Vincent.”
Holy Jesus. I came a little bit and thanked fuck I wasn’t going commando. “Haven, this is all new and maybe we should take it slowly.” Not really, but I wasn’t doing anything to fuck this up and this was what girls wanted, right? Go slow. Date. Kiss. Fool around. Long-term building shit.
She walked toward me, hand still outstretched. “We’ve been going slowly for months.” She linked her fingers with mine and stepped into me. Her breasts pressed against my chest and I swear her nipples were hard and aching just like my cock. “I told you my darkest secrets. You’re still here.”
“I’d never leave you,” I said a little annoyed.
She lightly kissed me and our lips stuck for a second as she drew back again. But she wasn’t done and stood on her tiptoes and kissed the crease right between my eyes. “I’m going to call you Vincent when we have sex.”
My breath left me. Sucked right from my lungs and vanished. I’d fucked a lot of chicks, too many to count; shit, half of them I couldn’t even remember fucking. But none . . . none ever had called me Vincent. Because they were fucking the guitarist, the rock star, the band member, and even in high school I was Crisis. But no chick I’d fucked called me ‘Vincent’ and I finally knew why.
Vincent had been saved for her.
WE FELL ONTO his bed, me beneath him, our mouths locked, hands all over one another, desperate and unrestrained desire feeding us both.
There was nothing said on the way back to the condo, but our hands remained linked, even while he shifted gears. The power vibrating in the engine, the sound of his harsh breath and the movement of his arm flexing, all of it dispersed every destructive thought associated with sex and replaced them with new ones—with him.
Vincent.
“Vincent,” I repeated his name aloud as his hands pulled my shirt off then slid slowly down my sides, shivers sparking all across my inflamed skin.
His mouth stole his name from passing my lips again. The velvet touch of his tongue swept into my mouth. Every particle in my body blazed in a heated inferno of desire, blood rushing through my veins, legs quivering on either side of him as he lay settled between my legs.
His cock pressed between my legs and the pulse in my clit throbbed faster with the pressure against it. It vibrated right through me like an echo of a drum and I squirmed beneath him, trying to move. Arch into it. I never thought I’d want that. Sex had always been cruel and vile and hurt like hell.
But none of this was like that.
“Baby.” He shifted to the side and the pressure was gone.
It was a relief and a disappointment. I sucked in gasps of air, trying to settle the urgency that was driving my body.
“You still good with this?” He sat up on his knees and my hands drifted from his chest to his thighs. “I don’t want to rush this—us.”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Yeah,” I said again to make certain he heard me.
“You need me to stop. Don’t ride it out. Tell me.”
“Will you make me have that again?”
His brows lowered questioningly. “What?”
“In the classroom. I want that again.”
He grinned then yanked off his shirt and threw it aside. My eyes trailed down his muscled chest and abdomen. I’d seen it before but now . . . now I got to touch it and my eyes flicked to his before I placed my palms on his chest. In a slow tantalizing glide, I traced the tips of my fingers over every hard contour.
When I reached the cusp of his jeans, I glanced back up at him. His eyes were closed and his head tilted slightly back. He inhaled deep ragged breaths matching my own.
“You’re beautiful,” I said.
He met my eyes and there was a deep intense look to them as if he’d just realized something, but I didn’t know what. Whatever it was, I knew it was good because he slowly smiled then grabbed my wrist, the one with the brand, and lifted it to his mouth.
His tongue darted out and he traced the scar. Our eyes never left one another as he did it. My heart pounded so hard that it hurt and I swear the pieces of me that had been scattered after Gerard, were sliding back into me.
It was like a magnetic pull as he trailed kisses up my arm, then leaned forward and continued along my neck, collarbone, between my breasts then down my abdomen to my jeans. His fingers undid the buttons and they popped open. He kept kissing me, the heat from his breath sending waves of pleasure through me.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you. Lift up.” I raised my butt and he dragged my jeans off and tossed them on the floor. His hands slid up over my calves. “The best fuckin’ legs.” He caressed and stroked with his hands, then shuffled down the bed and lowered. “Going to give you what you want now, baby. Bend your knees.”
I did. And he lowered his head between my legs. I’d never had a guy go down on me. At the club, the men fucked me, shoved their fingers inside me, pinched my nipples, but this had nothing to do with that.
I arched as his tongue flicked over me like his finger had, but softer, warmer—wet.
“Oh, God.”
His heated breath was enough to make me moan. I was so sensitive, probably from the months of wanting him. From denying this.
“Vincent. Please.” His tongue played, his mouth suckled and then his finger . . . oh, God, his finger trailed through my slick wetness up to my clit where he tapped over the sensitive nub that relentlessly throbbed.
His voice vibrated against me and I swear it was why he spoke. “Please won’t work this time, Ice. Melting is a slow process.”
I gasped as his finger pushed inside me at the same time as his mouth sucked on my clit. My butt left the bed as I pushed upward, the sheets clenched in my fists on either side of me. God, I never knew. I’d gotten myself off a few times, but it was always a struggle, and frustrating because as soon as the buried emotions began to surface, I stopped.
But now. Now, that everything had surfaced, it was like it didn’t have to be a part of me anymore. I could push it away instead of letting it hold onto me.
“Fuck, you’re wet.”
“I’ve been wet for months.”
He lifted his head and grinned. “Yeah?”
I nodded.
“Good. I’ve been hard for months.” He pushed his finger into me slowly and I suspected he knew that was what I needed. I closed my eyes and moaned, legs clenching around him. “You good?”
And he was sweet. “I’m good.”
He pushed in and out of me slowly and gently while his
tongue and mouth danced across my pulsing sex.
“Oh, God. Oh, God,” I cried, trying to keep myself from moving and yet wanting to get closer to him. I grabbed his hair and pulled, he groaned.
The pressure increased on my sex. Faster. Harder.
“Vincent,” I screamed as it hit me and my body tensed then quivered under his fingers and tongue.
His fingers withdrew and his tongue licked every part of my sex before he climbed up on top of me. His hands slid up my arms and latched onto my wrists. Then he kissed me and I tasted myself on his lips, his tongue.
“Puddle.”
“Hmmm?” he murmured against my lips. It was as if he didn’t want to stop kissing me, so instead, he mumbled as he continued to roam my mouth.
“I’m melted.”
That drew him away from kissing me, but it was only so he could meet my eyes. “I love your ice, too, Haven.”
He leaned forward and kissed the top of my head before he climbed off the bed. My eyes widened and I sat up holding the sheet to my chest.
“Where are you going?”
“Shower.” He walked toward the bathroom.
“Shower? Now?” Then I realized he wasn’t going to have sex with me. “You’re worried.”
He paused, hand on the light switch. It clicked on, along with the fan making a low rumbling sound as it started up.
“Vincent.” He didn’t turn, but he also didn’t disappear into the bathroom. “Vincent,” I repeated. God, he was stubborn when he wanted to be. “I’ve had sex. I’m not scared of it and I’m not worried.”
He abruptly turned, the familiar crease between his eyes. “You were raped, you mean. For years.”
“Does that disgust you? Is that why you don’t want to sleep with me?” Oh, that pissed him off. Vincent rarely got pissed, but he was now, with his hands curled into fists at his side and his jaw clenched.
“No. Fuck, no. Jesus, I want to be the one to erase all that. I want to be the one to give you what you deserve.” He ran his trembling hand through his hair and lowered his head. “I couldn’t bear it if I hurt you. If I saw that look in your eyes like when you screamed . . . Fuck, that would kill me.”
I unfolded from the bed, let the sheet go and walked across the room toward him. “I’m not scared and I’m not worried. Vincent, you’ve already been inside me for months emotionally.” I placed my hands on his chest, his heartbeat steady and strong beneath my palm. “Now, I want you inside me physically.”
He reached for me, his arm around my waist, dragging me up against him before his mouth crushed mine. It was hard and yet warm and lazy at the same time. As if he was trying to be gentle, but parts of him refused to bend to that need.
My tongue slipped inside his mouth and I tasted him, the sweetness that I had craved. The love I’d been denied for most of my life. I finally felt it with everything there was between us.
He kissed my neck and I moaned, tilting my head back. Not long ago, I’d imagined him doing this. It was safe. I never felt that in my life until Vincent gave it to me.
“Okay?” I asked as he continued to kiss along the base of my neck.
“Okay.” He drew back. “I haven’t been with anyone and I’m clean, been checked. You’re not on anything?”
I shook my head. I hadn’t been since I escaped. “I was checked, too.” Kat had taken me after I’d escaped.
“Get in bed.” I did and he walked into the bathroom where I heard a drawer open and close. He came back out with a square package between his teeth, which he ripped open.
I watched as he undid his jeans and dragged them down his hard muscled thighs that had a spattering of fine hairs, just enough to be manly. I thought he was going slowly on purpose because Crisis had experience, lots of experience and there was no way it would normally take him this long to take off his pants and roll on a condom. He was either doing it for me so I had time to change my mind and run or it was the simple fact that Crisis was a stage junky and he liked attention. And right at that moment, he was getting it. I stared at him handling his cock in his one hand as it jutted out from his body. He jerked on it once and my breath caught in my throat.
His head was down; watching what he was doing, but I noticed a tiny smirk on his lips. He ran his hand up and down his cock several times before he slowly rolled on the condom.
By then, I was throbbing and ready for him again. Shit, I was ready for him again right after my first orgasm.
He stalked toward me then put one knee on the mattress and the springs squeaked. He straddled my waist, his hands sliding around to my back where he unhooked my bra and slipped it off.
“Lie back, sweetie.”
I did. Pain was always associated with a cock. Pain and humiliation. But I also never gave those men my submission. They never had me; maybe physically, but I numbed out to them. They became the objects.
But Vincent was real and I wanted to feel him—every part of him. I reached between us wanting to feel the one thing that I’d always hated. I was a little disappointed he’d already put the condom on, but still it exuded power. And soon pleasure. I knew it. There was nothing in our way anymore.
My fingers touched the spattering of hairs that led down to his cock and he tensed above me, his mouth hovering above my right nipple. And then at the same time as my hand wrapped around him, he latched onto my nipple.
He swore beneath his breath with my breast in his hand, my nipple between his teeth, while I moaned at the swell of him in my palm. It jerked and I tightened my grip.
“Fuck, baby.” He cupped my chin and kissed me, his other hand teasing my erect nipple, from pinching to caressing to a light-feathered touch. “Jesus. Never been like this. Never.”
I slid my hand down further until I cupped his balls in my hand. I gently rolled them, my thumb caressing the delicate surface.
“Fuck. Stop.” Crisis jerked upwards. “I’m going to come and I want to do it inside you.”
I smiled and he reached between us, pulled my hand away. He grabbed his cock and settled it between my legs. “Going to ask one more time.”
I lifted my hips toward him and looped my arm around his neck and dragged his mouth back to mine where I murmured. “Fuck me, Vincent.”
His kiss deepened and then there was a slight pressure as the tip of his cock pressed into me. I closed my eyes, tilted my head back and relaxed my legs while he trickled kisses down the length of my neck. He pushed a little deeper before he stopped.
“Open your eyes.” I did. “I want you looking at me the first time I sink inside you. I want you to know it’s me.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
His hands weaved with mine above my head, him partially inside me and not moving. Our eyes locked on to one another. It was a moment of shifting pieces, like they were moving around inside both of us and we were waiting until they connected and found one another.
My lips parted. So did his.
Then he thrust and sank deeply, the pieces fitting together perfectly.
“Vincent.”
“Say it again.”
“Vincent.”
He pulled out then pressed into me slowly, ground his hips and repeated. My legs wrapped around his hips and he sank further into me on his next thrust.
“Fuck, baby. I can’t last long. I’ve waited so long for this.” His face contorted as if he was concentrating and maybe in pain. I reached up, curved my arm around his neck and pulled him down, so his weight was on top of me.
“Harder,” I said into his ear. “Faster.”
He groaned as he moved up onto his hands on either side of me, then shoved harder, faster and his body kept hitting my sex when he thrust, sending waves of pleasure through me.
“Faster,” I urged.
“Anything you want. Anything.”
And that was it. All control vanished as our bodies slapped together time and again. The noise of our naked heated skin echoed through the room. He grabbed my hair and yanked to the side, before his mo
uth crashed into mine and that was what did it.
I came hard, again. My body stiffening and legs clenched around him.
He growled into my mouth as he came with me, his kiss bruising as he shoved one last time into me then stilled.
His cock throbbed inside me and our chests heaved, mouths still connected but barely moving. It was both of us unable to find the words to decipher what just happened between us.
He pushed stray strands of hair back from my face with the tip of his fingers. “You good?”
His brows were low over his eyes as if he was worried. “Perfect.”
The crease disappeared and he grinned. “I lost it. I couldn’t hold back and . . . I never want to hurt you, Haven.”
No, Vincent had proven that to me that time and again, right from the day he found me in the rain storm. He built an us, whether either of us even knew it was happening. The monsters in the wind whirled around me, but they no longer had a threatening hold. It wouldn’t be easy, but one day, they’d have no hold.
Crisis kissed me then stood, went into the bathroom and threw out the condom.
He came back and I watched him walk across the room. The ink covering both arms and up over his shoulders. He had one design down his side that I’d seen before weave into a large one on his lower back. Of course, he had the one on his butt that his mother had seen.
“Scoot,” he said as he lifted one corner of the duvet.
I lifted up and he pulled the cover back. We crawled beneath and he reached for me right away, pulling me back against his chest. My butt pressed into his cock and I felt it jerk and harden.
“It’s been cursing at me for months.” He nibbled on my ear and shivers trickled across my skin like tiny firecrackers. “Probably laughing, too.”
I secretly smiled because it was nice to know Crisis hadn’t been with another woman all this time. “What’s it saying now?”
His arms tightened around me, fingers splayed on my abdomen. “It’s in love.” I stiffened and he kissed the side of my neck. “I’m in love, baby. You’re my best friend and I love every part of you.”
Tears welled. Tears. I was annoyed that they did, but it was so powerful hearing those words from him, I had no control over my reaction. I swallowed. My throat was tight and I knew he had to feel my heart racing and pounding.