Brawler

by K. S. Adkins

  Opening my eyes, looking into his, I whisper, “I thought I dreamed you.” Kissing him back, I tell him, “But you’re real, you’ve always been real, better than any dream.”

  “I’m gonna fix us, Princess,” he says, working me harder. “Gonna get this right, too, but I need you to come first, on my hand, then in my mouth.”

  “We’re not broken, Captain,” I tell him, burying my hands in his hair while my hips thrust and my climax closes in. “We’re getting there, in our own way.”

  “I’ll love you forever, Princess,” he says, leaning down to suck my nipple. “Our lives will be full, our hearts, too,” he says. making his way down my stomach. When he reaches my bandages he slowly undoes them. Running his fingers around the stiches he whispers “My wife is the strongest women I’ve ever met.” Kissing my wound he tells me, “She loves me right, keeps me sane, and one day we’ll fill this belly again.”

  When his mouth seals over me my back arches, and I moan long and deep. “Then what?” I beg him, wanting to know the rest, needing to know what happens next.

  Pausing in his licks, he looks up. “Then we have our happily ever after, Princess, duh.”

  Before he dives back in I put my hand on his forehead, stopping him. “I thought this was our happily ever after?”

  “I want back in there, Princess,” he says, pushing against my hand, but then he sighs. “You’re my very own fairy tale. Every day is the start to our happily ever after, every fucking one. Now you gonna let me get back to making your fantasy come true, or what?”

  Removing my hand he laps me up, works me over, and makes me come twice before crawling back up to me with a smug look on his face.

  Kissing me deep when his tongue meets mine, I can taste me on him. I may have growled because of it, but I am primed and I wanted that cock, now. Slowly he rises above me and my legs part for him, welcoming him home.

  “”How was that fantasy, Princess?” he asks, kissing my nose.

  “In my fantasy, this hot captain talked less and invaded more,” I say, pouting.

  “That right?”

  “My fantasy, my invasion.”

  Balancing on one arm he feeds himself into me slowly. My hands find his ass to pull him deeper. Once he’s fully seated he kisses me for minutes, maybe hours, but I didn’t care, because we were here, connected, finally. Mouth filled with his tongue, pussy filled with his cock, I arch myself letting him know I need more.

  “Invasions are tricky things,” he says, panting. “Sometimes you have to come in slow, not go full force.”

  Moaning at his words and his movements, he keeps going. “Why?” I ask, panting.

  “Ah, Princess, because sometimes it’s best to savor the victory.”

  On the edge of coming again, I tighten my walls, grab his face, pull his mouth to mine, and tell him, “And sometimes it’s best to conquer.”

  “Oh, I’m gonna conquer,” he says. “That pussy’s gonna know who conquered it.”

  Thrashing because it feels so fucking good, he takes me deeper but not harder, and oh shit, that’s amazing. I know he’s close because he’s losing his rhythm, and I’m cool with that. Leaning down to my neck I turn my head, exposing the column to him, but instead of biting me he tells me, “Next time, that ass is gonna get conquered, too.”

  “Jonas!” I yell, coming hard and long. “That fucking mouth!”

  Grunting and thrusting he yells out, “Gonna mark you,” then before I can speak, he latches onto my neck and does what he promised. He marks me like a fucking husband should. Evidence on the outside and on the inside. Perfect.

  Minutes after our breathing calms, he rolls to his side, putting us face to face. “I love you, wife,” he says, pushing my hair back. “Gotta lot to make up for.”

  “I love you, husband,” I say, leaning forward to kiss him gently. “You rescued me, Jonas. You always rescue me. There’s nothing you need to make up for, I promise.”

  “You lost so much,” he says staring at me. “Your research, your home, your safety and our —” Covering his mouth, I finish for him.

  “I gained so much more,” I tell him. “My research is in the right hands now, this is my home, you’re my safety, and I’m holding you to that future you told me about. Jonas, all I need is you.”

  “Fuck,” he says, burying his head in my neck.

  “Give me twenty minutes,” I tell him.

  “You heard that before, huh?”

  “Captain, I hear everything,” I say, smiling.

  “About that, I’ve been uh … shit.”

  “Spill it,” I say in my patient voice.

  “Listening to some shit on that app, but I won’t anymore, I promise. I just, shit, I don’t know, I was worried and you —”

  Again I have to cover his mouth, but this time I have to fight back a giggle.

  “Even the strongest man couldn’t resist doing it. I’m not angry.”

  “Jesus, you’re too easy on me.”

  “True,” I say. “But I love you even when you act up.”

  “Thank fuck,” he says, holding me close.

  “Throwing an anal reference in there, I like how you were so subtle about it.”

  “Ever done it?” he asks, but then cuts me off. “You know what, don’t answer that.”

  When I stay quiet, he can’t stand it, so he squeezes me. “So have you?”

  “No, Captain, I haven’t. Have you?”

  “You’re joking right?” he asks “That’s a no, but Princess, if you wanna try it, the offer’s on the table.”

  “You’d do that for me? Try something like that?”

  “I may have a few hang-ups, but when I was gifted this cock, I’m pretty sure it was intended for anal.”

  I laugh, I can’t help it.

  “Something funny, Princess?”

  “No, Captain,” I tell him. “Anal’s on the table then, good to know.”

  “Not on the kitchen table it ain’t, or the coffee table. It’s new. We do that shit with an old towel and —”

  “Jonas.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Stop talking.”

  Instead of discussing anal any further we talk about everything else. If one of us has a question, the other answers it. We no longer have any secrets, at least not any that are harmful. We speak of the good and bad, the what’s to come, but never the what-ifs. Because there will always be what-ifs.

  My husband loves me and I love him. He’s the first, last, and only man I’ll ever love. And that’s my happily ever after.

  My wife and I are hosting our first-ever barbecue. Who gives a shit if we ordered most of the food and my grill is ten thousand years old? Venessa and Rogan are coming by, bringing Boner, of course, and though we invited Jules and Max, he told me they were unavailable. The only black cloud was the fact the Captain wasn’t returning calls and seemed to be hell-bent on blowing us off. Either way, our best friends — our family — would be here, and that’s what mattered.

  When Venessa walked in, she and Macy did this girly hug thing and turned on their ear-splitting metal they like so much. Rogue comes in with a bunch of meat and his leg-humping, sweater-wearing Chihuahua, tossing the food on the table so he can scratch the dog’s stomach. We nod at each other because that’s what men do. Then I meet him in the doorway and watch our women dance party - if that’s what you want to call it.

  When Macy stops, she grabs Venessa’s hand and says, “Oh fuck me!” to which I answer politely with an “I’m in.” When Rogue scowls at me I ask, “What?” at which he rolls his eyes. Macy pulls Venessa toward me then tries to tackle Rogue, screaming, “I knew it! I fuck-ing knew it!”

  Looking down at her hand then at her face I see something I don’t see enough: Venessa smiling.

  “Congrats,” I say, hugging her gently so I don’t get hit. “̓Bout fucking time, no?”

  “Get your hands off my fiancé, partner,” says Rogue, smirking.

  Pulling him into a man hug he actually retur
ns, I tell him honestly, “Super fucking happy for you, man.”

  “Whatever,” he says. “Knew she’d come around, just had to be patient.”

  “When did you pop the question?” I ask him, but when he looks around Venessa skips over and announces, “I asked him. I wouldn’t let him say no.”

  “As if I fucking would, Angel.”

  “When did this all happen?” asks Macy.

  Some of the light leaves Venessa’s eyes before she answers. Rogue pulls her to him for comfort, but she gets the words out. “When you were in surgery,” she begins quietly. “I knew I loved him, yeah? But I wanted to be his wife. I have to be his wife. I needed to be with him in every way, and at the thought of losing you, Macy I — I asked him. Well, begged him, really.”

  “V,” she says, holding my hand. “I’m good, I’m so happy. I mean, we’re so happy for both of you, and I never got a chance to say but, thank you both for —” She falters briefly, then looks up at me. “For never giving up on us.”

  “Shit,” says Venessa.

  “Yeah,” says Rogue.

  “Awkward,” says Macy.

  “Who’s hungry?” I ask.

  “I could eat.” This from Rogue, and just like that, we get on with our first barbecue.

  We laugh, we eat, the women serve us dessert in slutty outfits. Okay, so I had hoped they would, but…

  Rogue holds his mate and I hold mine. Into the wee hours of the night we have the times of our lives. It’s too bad we left our phones in the house and wouldn’t hear Jules call to Macy until the next morning.

  Apparently, Max thought cuffing Jules to his bed was a good move. Even I’m not dumb enough to try that shit.

  Venessa and Rogan went back up north for a few days. I’m pretty sure Jules and Max are reenacting the War of the Roses, so while it’s just Jonas and me for a while. I asked him if we could go out. When I say out, I mean dinner and dancing. He said he wanted to, so I’m taking him up on it. This morning he took me to Somerset to pick out a dress, and I dare I say I look good in it. My husband likes to shop, who knew? He also likes revealing dresses, but that I pretty much knew.

  Tonight, we are going to dinner at Fishbone’s then dancing at Boogie Fever. To say I’m excited is an understatement. So as I sit here getting ready, he said he had errands to run. I made the effort to actually put my makeup on without looking like a clown, straightened my hair, and pushed my boobs up as high as possible while donning my thong. You know, in case an opportunity arises. Being a tad taller, I usually wear flats when it’s Venessa and I, but since he’s a tall drink of water I’m wearing heels again for the first time in months. My calves? Fucking hot in these babies.

  Looking in the mirror, I do a quick twirl, and when that isn’t enough I even started to dance a bit. When I do a full spin I turn and run straight into my husband.

  “Princess,” he says, handing me flowers. “Your klutziness could kill a lesser man.”

  Taking the flowers I throw my arms around his neck. “Your mouth could kill a lesser woman.”

  “Lucky for me my wife likes my mouth.”

  “And I am not a fucking klutz!” I squeal, turning to stomp off, but my heel snags the carpet, and my once-graceful exit results in my legs wide open with my ass on my flowers. Extending his hand to me to help me up, he says, “I’m not big on I-told-you-so, but …”

  Taking his hand I pull hard, bringing him down on top of me. “Oh shut up,” I tell him. “I’m only like this around you.”

  Every time he looks me in the eyes he floors me. “With you I can’t get my words right, with me you can’t walk straight,” he says, kissing me. “It could be worse, you know.”

  “Worse how?”

  “You could be ugly.”

  My husband, ladies and gentleman. Helping me up, he sets me on my feet, and when we get to the steps he sweeps me off my feet and whispers, “Told you, my Princess don’t walk anywhere when I’m around.” With that, I wrap my arms around his neck, not even caring about my hair, makeup, or the fact he could easily drop me down these steps. My husband is full of surprises but in this, I knew I was safe as long as he was holding me.

  Knowing my wife will be wearing the dress I picked out tonight has me walking the city with a chubby. Running to the florist I grab her some flowers, running to the dealership I finally set up a delivery date for her SUV, and on my way back I pick up a bottle of wine for when we get home and where I hope to get lucky, really lucky.

  When I walk into our room I see her doing some sort of weird native dance. It’s like a cross between the kid-n-play and the cabbage patch, but she looks so fucking beautiful that I stand there and watch. She does some sort of maneuver that had her flying toward me, so I opened my arms and catch her like I should.

  After her ass meets the floor I take the opportunity to tease her. My wife ain’t a klutz except around me. I like that I keep her off balance. Only seems fair since she has the same effect on me.

  Dinner is good. Outside of motherfuckers staring at my wife, that is. Next time I pick out the dress, it will have a back, sleeves, and big ugly flowers on it. Who am I kidding? My wife could stop traffic in a fucking pair of MC Hammer pants and a parka. Now we’re at Boogie Fever and my wife has had two girly drinks - which is a first, seeing as I’ve never seen her drink - then ran to the dance floor. I’m content to watch her do her thing. Okay, fine, so I’m imagining her doing her thing to me, but whatever. Watching guys approach her and get shot down is fun, too. It’s pissing me off, but my wife has proven she can take care of herself, so I’m here if she needs me.

  She comes to check on me often and keeps asking me to dance, but I keep telling her I’m waiting for the right song. She throws out a whatever and goes back to shaking her ass. Finally the right song comes on, which happens to be “Brick House,” because fuck you, even a white boy like me can dance to that. Moving our drinks to the middle of the table for pickup. I’ll be getting her new ones. You don’t leave your shit out for people to fuck with. I take a step to go meet her when I come face to face with Chyna Fucking Townsend.

  “Fancy meetin’ you here, Rafe,” she says, slurring her words. “Who ya here with tonight?”

  “Fuck off, Chyna,” I tell her, trying to go around her.

  “About that,” she says, touching me, and oh shit, this ain’t good. “I think I made a mistake, Rafe.”

  Here’s the thing about Macy. She’s pretty low-key until it comes to me. Once Chyna realizes Macy is behind her I have a feeling Chyna’s night will go from good to shit. My wife don’t fuck around, and truth? I can’t wait to fucking watch.

  “That right?” I ask, egging her on. “What mistake would that be?”

  “Letting you go,” she says. Like she’s ever had me, I think to myself. “If that psycho had you, I’m thinking I may have been hasty.”

  “Chyna Fucking Townsend, hasty?” says my badass wife. “Bitch, you’re a lot of things, but hasty isn’t one of them. Step away from my husband.”

  When her eyes go big she keeps looking at me for help or some shit but, I ain’t got nothing to help her with. Bitch needs to help herself on this one.

  “You — you married her?”

  “My name is Macy,” she says. “You’re one of those, huh?”

  “One of those what?” she snaps, turning to my wife.

  “One of those lessons that need repeating.”

  “I have a restraining order out on your crazy ass!”

  “Yeah? How’s that working out for ya?” she says, pushing her into a chair. “You think a restraining order will stop me? You don’t proposition my husband and think you can get away with it, do you? In my world, those words get a bitch cut.” Looking at me she starts taking off her jewelry, then says “I need you to hold this, Captain. I won’t be but a minute.”

  “You are a fucking psycho!” she screams, looking for an escape. “Don’t you have a kid or something? Who acts like this! You’re someone’s mother! Stay the fuck away from me!�
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  Leaning in I warn her once, only once. “You’ll watch your goddamn mouth when speaking to my wife, we clear?” When she nods I look back over to my wife, who is equal parts pissed and excited.

  “I’ve got one nerve left and you’re dry humping it,” she says, getting in her face “This is going to hurt you more than it hurts me, Chyna.” Then she’s grabbing a chair, taking her hand, and sitting one on one with her.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, looking nervous.

  “I’m teaching you a lesson,” she explains. “You’re a bitch, and desperation doesn’t look good on you. If I did like you, which I don’t, I’d slap you for acting like this. I don’t think you even like you, so how do you expect anyone else to like you? I mean seriously, you’re pushy, skanky, and your breath is jacked. You were a straight cunt to my husband, and I have issue with that, so in an effort to be a sweetheart I’m going to leave you with this. Remember it, because I’ll only say this once. You ever come near him again, I’ll make sure you aren’t walking away from it, you get me?”

  When she nods my wife releases her, and before turning to leave, tells her, “And damn straight I’ll be some kid’s mother. Now fuck off, Chyna.”

  Walking into my arms she kisses me hard on the mouth. “Take me home?” she asks.

  Kissing her back, I take her hand leading her out to the truck. “My brawler took a lesson from me on growing up.”

  “That felt good, Captain.”

  “Fuck,” I say, laughing. “From where I was, it looked even better.”

  “What are the odds you’ll let me grab my tazer out of my bag and finish her off?”

  “I think she’s had enough,” I laugh. “Don’t you?”

  “Not really, no,” she says, serious. “She got off easy. She walked away, didn’t she?”

  “Yeah, with help.”

  “Pssh, whatever, she still walked away.”

  “You done?”

  “I’m done.”

  “You did good,” I say, smiling.

  “You’re my non-filtered mother fuckin’ husband,” she says, smiling back