by Gina Watson
She swallowed and sipped at her drink, feeling the heat ease through her.
“When we got home, he accused me of coming on to Jude. He asked why I wanted to embarrass him like that and if I’d enjoyed sucking Jude off in the bathroom. It was surreal. I’d never seen him act that way. He really believed that when I excused myself to the restroom that I got it on with Jude. His mistrust hurt a lot because I was innocent when we met. I gave him everything.”
Clay kissed her palm. “No, you have everything left to give. You gave him nothing. You left him.”
With Clay’s words, hope returned to her heart. She smiled and leaned forward to kiss him.
When they moved apart, he looped a piece of loose hair behind her ear and got up to sit in the chair beside her. “Finish, please.”
“This part is hard; I’ve never told it to anyone. I don’t have anyone to tell.”
“You do now.” He wrapped her hand in his.
She squeezed back. Okay… She could tell him the rest. “I tried to reason with him. I was so naïve, I didn’t even know what he’d meant by sucking off.” She shuddered, but Clay was there, lightly caressing her.
Her voice low and grave, she said, “Deep down, he wanted to believe it. He needed to believe it so when he beat me, there was a catalyst. No amount of reasoning was going to change that. It was the first time he beat me and it was brutal. He cracked a rib, broke my collarbone, and blackened my eye. Then… Then he had a doctor come to our home. That doctor wouldn’t even look me in the eye; he must have been paid dearly for that service.”
She inhaled, surprised her chest was tight and that she was having trouble breathing. Clay waited patiently for her to speak again.
“It w-was the same doctor every time. I wanted to escape sooner, but I loved my family, especially my father. He was my world, and he’d been sick. I didn’t want to leave and never see him again.” She wrung her hands. “When he died, I was in shock, but then I realized he’d be with me forever, is with me still, and that realization gave me the strength I needed. I did try to leave him once. Went to my father’s house. He came after me and told me if I didn’t come back home, he’d hurt my mother and sister. He meant it. Unfortunately, I endured the abuse for three years before I was able to make my escape. I’m still worried about my mother and sister.” Silently she thought she was selfish to put her safety over theirs.
She tipped her head back to focus on Clay’s eyes. He’d gone rigid when she finished speaking. Did he believe her? Did he blame her? Did he think she was weak for running and not fighting, or foolish for taking three long years before she got out?
She couldn’t understand what the turbulence in his eyes was screaming at her.
11
As Clay listened to Eve tell her secret, he was heartbroken. She thought she’d done something to provoke the motherfucker.
“Come here.” He patted his lap, tugging her hand, and she let him pull her close, into the heat and protection of his body. He cupped her cheeks with his palms. She was such a giver, selflessly sharing herself and her gifts. How could someone willingly hurt her?
He used his fingers to push the hair from her face, trying to make his large hands touch her delicately. He’d never met anyone like Eve, and he knew he wanted more time with her. Maybe forever with her. He wanted to watch her, to share with her. To see delight in her eyes when she was surprised, to comfort her when she grieved. He couldn’t imagine her walking out and never returning. She belonged in his home. She belonged in his bed.
He hadn’t known his life was missing anything, anyone, until he met her. He thought his job, his family, and the club met all his needs. He didn’t know that a woman, this woman, could satisfy his greatest desire: the need to be appreciated, even desired, for just being himself. Not as brother or son, not firefighter, not an anonymous dominating lover in a sex club, but simply a man. Simply the man that he was, flaws and weaknesses and everything else included.
“As long as I’m alive,” he promised in a rough whisper, “I’ll fight to keep you safe. You’ll never again have to be afraid.”
Light pouring in the kitchen window highlighted the contours of her delicate collarbone. His fingers dusted lightly across it, followed by the tender kiss of his lips. As he thought of her broken body, he seethed with anger. With rage. She said she was with the fucker for three years. He would find that man and he would kill him. He pulled her into his chest. It was difficult to think about her in that situation for so long, but hearing that she’d escaped scared him more because it meant the guy might be looking for her. He assumed they were still married; she’d used the word escape too clearly for it not to mean that. He would get Augie to trace the guy in the system and get some background information. If he was going to make a move, Clay wanted to be prepared.
“I assume you’re still married.”
“No!” Her cry was anguished. Her hands cupped her mouth, and she frantically shook her head, repeating no over and over.
“Baby, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
She went boneless against him, shuddering every few seconds, still murmuring no. He couldn’t comfort her, couldn’t reach her.
She’d retreated again.
He took her to his bed and placed her beneath him. He held her head between his hands and kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, her lips. He whispered words of affirmation and comfort into her ear. She wasn’t responding, and he wanted to get closer still, so he removed her clothes and then his own. Once they were both naked, he lay at her side as close as he could without hurting her with his weight. His plan was to use her senses, starting with touch, to bring her around. He ran his fingertips lightly along the delicate bone that had been broken by an animal. He bent his head and licked, slow and soft, across the silk that was her skin. He used the moisture left by his tongue to dampen his fingers and trace along the outside curve of her breast.
“So beautiful, Eve,” he whispered.
He heard her inhalation and sigh. “Oh God, Clay.” Her hands covered her face as she cried.
He grasped her hands and pulled them from her face. She was shaking. He kissed her tears. “Tell me.”
“I’m afraid.”
He knew she needed to speak her fears aloud. He continued to sweetly kiss her. “What are you afraid of?”
“Nicolas Claude Renaud. The woman married to him is named Everleigh Renaud, but I’m not that girl anymore, I can’t be. I saved her.”
Everleigh. It suited her.
Her eyes, large and bright from tears, searched his soul. “You’re going to keep me safe?”
“Yes, baby.” He kissed her nose. “No one can keep me from you.” He kissed her cheeks. “When you turn around, you’ll find me.” He rolled his body on top of hers, resting his weight on his forearms. “I’ll always be there. And we’ll fight this together. You need to get your life back. That means getting a divorce.”
She shuddered beneath him. “No. Please, no. I can’t do that.” She inhaled roughly, trying to catch her breath. “Don’t make me do that. He’ll kill me. He almost did the last time.”
He slid his arms under her back and pulled her into his chest. “He won’t ever touch you again. Do you trust me to keep you safe?” He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.
She moaned. “I trust you with everything I am; you’re nothing like him. But why would you take on all this trouble?”
He heard her unspoken question—why would you take me on?
Her brow furrowed, and his eyes met her stormy gray ones. “Because I’m falling in love with you.” His tongue snaked down her torso and dipped into her naval. His fingers sought the cleft between her legs, and he delighted in the wetness pooling there. “Eve, you want me?”
“Yes.” She shyly put her fingertip in her mouth, biting gently. Biting provocatively.
He massaged her cleft as he looked into her eyes. “What do you want?”
She smiled around the tip of her finger. “I want you to kiss it lik
e last time.”
“Kiss what?”
She lowered her hand to his. His girl was shy. Clay suspected she’d never been eaten until he’d tasted her. He kissed her clit, then grinned at her. “Tell me.”
She dropped her arm across her eyes. “I want you to kiss my cunt.”
He chuckled against her skin, and she rose up to frown at him. “Why are you laughing?”
He felt bad for laughing, but he couldn’t control it. “Have you ever said that word before?” She shook her head. “I’m laughing because I thought you might say flower, crotch, vagina, or even pussy. I never thought you’d come out with the word cunt, but I like it when you talk dirty.”
A deep blush rose across her face and spread to her neck and chest. Clay rolled to his back and took her with him. “Now come ride my face with that beautiful cunt. I want to taste you, smell you, consume you.”
She gasped, then laughed, and then she moaned when he held her over his mouth and feasted.
*
Eve wasn’t so sure about the position Clay had her in, and she wondered what it looked like to him. What she looked like. He positioned her so she was straddling his face and then he pushed gently on her back so that she went down, her body resting on his long torso. She knew this was referred to as a sixty-nine, but she couldn’t exactly fulfill her part because he was so long. His hands were at her hips.
“Come on, baby, back that thing up.”
She pushed backward toward his face. When the hands on her hips moved lower and his thumbs parted her folds, she stopped. To say she was a little embarrassed would be an understatement. Did he really want her to sit on his face? He growled low in the back of his throat.
“Come on, baby I’m dying. Come sit on my face so I can eat you.”
She bit her lip. But if that’s what he wanted… She positioned herself directly above his mouth.
“Widen your hips and lean all the way forward.”
When she felt her juices drip out of her and into his mouth, she wanted to climb off and hide.
“Eve, I said sit on my face.” Clay pulled her forcefully to his mouth using her hips, immediately canceling out any thoughts of retreat. His wet warmth on her felt so good, he’d be lucky if she ever let him up again.
She gasped from the sensations of his short whiskers and the feel of his mouth, nose, and chin pressed so intimately against her. When the tremors from his muffled words vibrated through her channel, she cried out his name. He pulled her up by the hips.
“Ride my face like you did my cock; use your hips.” He pulled her back to his mouth.
She started moving, alternating her hips, allowing her entire mound to benefit from his talented tongue. When she added an upward and backward tilting motion, she began to pant. He was all over her, eating her like she was a ripe mango. Her thrusts increased, and his growls vibrated the sensitive tissues of her pussy. She wanted him to devour her like she was his last meal.
She grasped his dark erection in her hands. Clay moaned loudly. She started to pump and fist him while riding his mouth. He’d grown and now was long and thick, his cock rising from his crotch like a proud soldier. Beads of cum pooled at the tip and dripped down the side. She wanted to taste him like he was tasting her, so she pulled him toward her and stretched her upper body, dipping her head to lap at the liquid. His cock stiffened even more. She teased the tip, then wrapped her lips around him as she probed the silky-soft head with her tongue, sucking gently.
“Fuck, Eve, don’t stop.” His stomach tensed beneath her as she sucked and licked him like a summer popsicle.
Without warning, she climaxed over his face. His velvet tongue, still lapping at her slick folds, coupled with his moans, sent vibrations through her clit and kept her climax rolling. Excited, unable to hold back, she sucked greedily, consuming as much of his length as she could. His moan started soft and low and rumbled through his body. When he released her hips, she swung off him and positioned herself on her knees so she could better explore his body.
He tasted like melted butter, rich and creamy. His shaft was hot and the liquid seeping from him even hotter, and she liked the weight and feel of him in her hands. She’d never enjoyed oral sex with Nicolas, but he’d always forced her. Clay was a gentle giant, massaging her back as she leaned over him and took him into her soft, wet heat. She placed one hand at the base of his cock and pumped. The other hand was near the head, and she twisted her wrist with each swipe of her tongue.
He groaned, his voice gravelly and low. “Eve, I love your mouth on me.”
She put as much of him in her mouth as she could take and wrapped both hands around him. She alternated squeezing him with her hands and sucking him. When he was stiff and his tip grew even darker, she squeezed and sucked harder and faster. Clay’s growls were almost nonstop.
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to come in your mouth.”
She didn’t stop, wanting him to lose control. Wanting him to spill himself inside her, where she could draw him deep.
He gripped his cock in his hand, but she kept her mouth on him as he stroked himself to completion inside her mouth. Panting, he watched her swallow, trailing his thumb across her cheek.
When she was done she licked her lips and said, “You, sir, are delicious.”
*
Clay had died and gone immediately to heaven; there was no other explanation. Eve had just sucked him empty, she’d swallowed his cum, delighting in doing so, and she’d called him sir. He knew she’d been teasing, but he felt the jolt to his core. And to his dick.
God, what he wouldn’t give to see her with her wrists bound behind her back with hemp rope. But given what she’d been through, there was no way she’d ever be able to do that, even if she’d ever fantasized about being bound. He hadn’t thought consciously about restraining her until she’d called him sir. The thought of her total trust and submission to him had him growing hard again. The images were always there in the back of his mind, but the thoughts hadn’t consumed him since she’d been in his bed. Did that mean he’d moved past that phase and no longer needed it? He didn’t know the answer to that. What he did know was that she was perfect for him and fit him like a glove. It was as if she were made for him, for his needs. Case in point: the beautiful Siren had just drained him and he was already stiffening again.
When he heard his handle across the two-way radio, he grumbled.
He rolled out of bed to answer the call and then went back to a naked Eve stretching in his bed. He bent to kiss her swollen lips. “I’ve got to go to the station.”
She smiled, beautiful and sated. “I’ll be here, waiting for you, lover.” She kissed his cheek.
Clay growled. He liked the endearment. “I want you naked and in my bed when I return.”
“I’ll be just like this.” She stretched again and then smoothly rolled over, showing him her ass, her beautiful long back. She rose to her hands and knees and lowered her chest to the bed. Peeking back at him, she spread her legs. “Exactly like this.”
Clay cursed the department’s timing under his breath before he slapped her lightly on the ass.
“I’ll be thinking of you the whole time I’m gone.”
And he would be. His dick hard and throbbing the whole damned day.
12
Clay had just returned from a fire. He needed a shower, would have loved to have Eve give him one. Or better still, one of her baths. He’d thought of the one he gave her when he could barely move and his dick grew hard. It happened ever time he thought of that night. Unfortunately he had a meeting in fifteen minutes so he had to hurry.
Stepping into the old brick shower at the station he thought of her as he scrubbed away dirt and grime. Over the last week, Eve did in fact wait for Clay to return home from the station in exactly that same manner—naked and in his bed. Clay would have her as soon as he returned, several times during the night, and once or twice in the mornings. He couldn’t get enough of her. He would leave her and become immed
iately hard thinking of his return home. He’d never met a woman who could satisfy him fully, but this woman, God, she was able to satisfy his body, mind, and soul. Wanting her was like an obsession. The sex was incredible, but he constantly thought about her, about her laugh, her always-busy hands—folding, sewing, typing, and tidying—her eyes and all their different shades, her generous spirit, her pain and hurt. She’d taken to calling him lover and every time she did it felt like an electric current passed through his body.
Stepping from the shower he dried his body with the towel but he couldn’t shake Eve from his mind—didn’t want to. He thought she was the most genuine person he’d ever met and that he might be able to leave bondage behind. But even as he thought that, the images started to flood his brain. Eve on her knees with her arms bound behind her; Eve’s ankles bound and her legs open, her at his mercy; Eve blindfolded. He felt guilty thinking about doing those things to her after what she’d been through. He wished he could just be normal.
His club days were over; he didn’t need the place with her in his bed. She satisfied his passions, but the thought of her beauty bound under layers of natural rope drove his mind and body wild with lust for her. If she would submit by giving all of herself to him completely, he could help her let go of the past that haunted her. She could replace painful memories with new ones. With oh-so-wonderful ones. He’d have her on the brink of climax all day, thinking of his touch, waiting for him to relieve her. He knew he could diminish memories of the man who’d brought her pain, replace them with sensual and erotic memories of nothing but pleasure, but how could he even ask after what she’d been through?