by Vivien Vale
It’s as if he’s reliving those memories all over again. It’s something I imagine he does every day.
“Jack, if I could take this burden from you I would. I hate to see that you’re hurting like that. It wasn’t your fault. It’s fucking Adam’s fault and I can’t do anything but try to apologize to him.”
His eyes flash fiery rage. “Don’t you apologize for that asshole, ever. He’s never gonna hurt you again, Avery, that I promise.”
I don’t say anything because I don’t know what to say. Jack is tense and shaking with rage and regret and guilt from the story he just told. I don’t blame him.
So I curl into him. Both of us sit in the large leather chair and get warm by the fire. There’s nothing I can say to help Jack’s memories go away. There’s nothing I can do to assuage his guilty conscience.
I can only hope that now he understands Adam was behind it, not him. None of this was his fault.
I sip my whiskey and it takes the edge off my own emotions. But I feel like I’ve lost Jack.
Where did he go? He’s just staring into the fire and thinking God knows what.
There’s immense power and strength in him that when unleashed, frightens me. I can only imagine what he’s thinking of doing to Adam right now.
I place my palm over his beating heart and I can tell it’s moving at a fast rate. His indignation at this situation must be staggering.
“Jack, I’m sorry. Please don’t be so angry. I can understand how you feel. But it’s over now. That was in the past. Can we start a future together?” I ask hopefully.
He looks down at me, and I get lost deep in his eyes. I know in this moment that he’s come back to me. He’s out of the bitter memories that war can bring and he’s back with me…for now.
Chapter 31
Jack
I cover my face with my own fucking hands. I can’t bear to look her in the eyes. The last thing I want to see is the fucking change in her eyes from admiration to abhorrence. Who does?
Bad enough I just retold the whole sad fucking story. Worse, now it’s going to turn her against me.
My shoulders are heaving, and I let the tears flow.
Why should I give a fuck anymore? I’ve bared my fucking soul, and I’m going to pay the fucking price. Any second she’ll get up and walk out that door into that blizzard. Only this time, I won’t have the heart to stop her.
This time it’ll be for fucking good.
And of course I can’t fucking blame her. I mean, I’m a monster. Retelling my story has only made that tasty little fact hit home once more.
Dear god, what an awful fucking human being I am. I’m fucking responsible for the deaths of so many innocent fucking people.
Something light and soft touches my shoulder.
Instantly I’m transported to those days a long time ago, when I was a little boy. Mom would first touch me lightly on the shoulder when I’d come into the kitchen a sniffling mess because of a bruised elbow or a scraped knee.
She’d say something like “Let’s have a smile from my big, brave boy” before inspecting the injury and kissing it better.
What was most comforting about the experience was her scent. As she pressed me against her, I could detect hints of cinnamon, vanilla, lemon, and frangipani. Some kind of special perfume she used, frangipani.
I asked her what it was once and remembered the name so I could buy her a bottle when I was older.
The rest of the scents were from her work in the kitchen. She was a fucking expert cook. Not only did she make a mean pancake, she also baked the best fucking muffins.
Of course, the touch on the shoulder now will not be followed by a kiss. It will be followed by some half-hearted words of comfort on Avery’s part before she books it.
No doubt her manners don’t let her just walk out. I try to block out the pain in my heart.
If she took the fire poker out of the fireplace right now and stabbed me through the heart, it would be no less fucking painful.
“I’m soooooo sorry.” Her voice is soft and melodic. I can barely hear what she’s saying.
I think I must have misheard her. I’m so fucking desperate to have her stay with me…I convinced myself that what she said was “Sorry.”
Bad fucking time to start hallucinating, big man.
I’ve seen people totally lose it in the desert after being close to dehydration because they think they can see water. We’d have to strap ‘em down sometimes to keep them from wandering off trying to find it when we knew damn well it wasn’t fucking there.
Now here I am, imagining the woman I’ve come to love wants to stick by me after hearing the worst fucking thing I’ve ever done.
I know I’ve totally lost my mind when I feel her lips on me. Like millions of tiny butterflies, they caress my skin.
It’s so fucking amazing I decide to enjoy the sensation before getting back to reality. With Avery gone, I’ll be spending enough fucking time living the cold, hard reality. I may as well make the most of this imaginary situation as I can.
When a hand gently rubs mine, I peer through my fingers.
I can hardly fucking believe what I see.
There’s Avery. Large as life she’s sitting next to me. And not only that, she seems to be showing me fucking affection.
“Avery…” I start but can’t finish the sentence. I’m still too choked up to speak. It’s been fucking terrible reliving that most awful fucking experience of mine.
“Shhhh,” she coos and strokes my hair.
My heart melts, and the stabbing pain subsides. Is this really fucking happening?
She gets onto her knees next to me and starts kissing me. Her lips are soft, gentle, and soothing.
My insides melt.
No. I want to scream fucking scream at her to stop giving me affection I don’t fucking deserve, but no sound comes from my lips.
This is bad. Very fucking bad.
I’m a monster. Retelling the story has stirred up so many fucking emotions, and I can’t be trusted. The last think I want to do is fucking hurt the most precious and exquisite thing in my life.
“Avery, babe,” I try and push her away.
She persists and continues to smother me with affection.
Soon it’s going to be too fucking late.
My fucking massive cock is standing to attention already.
“Fuck, Avery,” I growl and grab her shoulders.
My intention it to push her away, but my hands don’t obey my commands. My brain is about to take a long vacation. I need to fucking stop. I don’t want to hurt her.
Chop-chop, don’t stop, that fucking monster growls inside my head.
Her hands glide down my hairy chest and caress my belly.
The flame flickering within me ignites into a giant wild fire. I want to take her now. I want to use my fucking cock and ram it right into that fucking tight and delicious pussy of hers.
Fucking stop, I try and tell myself, but I know it’s falling on deaf ears.
It’s too fucking late to turn back.
Self-control Jack, come on, and exercise some fucking self-control. My inner voice is struggling to be heard.
Years of training for special missions means I come equipped with plenty of self-control exercises. If only my brain stuck around long enough for me to take advantage of one. As it is, my fucking cock is in charge of the thinking right now, and all it wants is Avery.
Don’t think.
Just do.
Her fingers have reached the waistband of my blue jeans, and I can barely contain myself.
How has she managed to do this?
She’s a fucking witch. I knew it.
She’s a fucking angel.
One minute I’m a mess of a man, having just re-told the most horrific story of my life, and the next I’m ready to fuck her.
Easy boy, I think to myself.
She’s the woman you love. You don’t want to fucking hurt her.
If I give in to the p
ure animalistic lust growing inside me, all hell might break loose. If I lose my fucking self-control, I might spank that delicious tiny ass of hers or even just fucking fill it with my cock instead.
A cold shower is what might fucking help. If I can fucking get away from her and take a fucking cold shower, I might be able to reduce the enormous fire ripping through me.
Her fingers have managed to slide lower. Any second and she’ll be touching my fucking dick.
I stiffen. If I lose control, I don’t know what will happen.
I groan.
Avery’s face appears in front of mine. Huge blue eyes peer at me.
“Can I, Jack? Is this okay?”
Oh, fuck. She doesn’t just want me—she’s worried about me. Give me some rope so I can tie my hands to this fucking chair till my brain returns from its vacation and kicks lust in the fucking ass.
Her concern is leaving me breathless. No words escape my lips so instead, I shake my head.
For a few more seconds, those ocean eyes study me before realization registers.
Those delicious lips of hers curl up a little. Her index finger traces my lower lip.
“I think I see what’s going on.”
She gets off the couch and drops down in front of me.
No. No. No.
I’m still not fucking ready to accept responsibility for what the fuck might happen if we fuck now. I’m too fucking vulnerable and unpredictable. I’m a fucking monster.
Her fingers undo my zip and help my waiting cock out of its constraint. It leaps out and points straight upward.
Her fingers touch it lightly, almost too fucking lightly.
“Do you want it, Jack?”
Think unhappy thoughts. Don’t get swept away in the lust. But it’s no fucking good.
Like a piano player, she plays the scales on my cock.
At her touch, it swells even more, and I moan.
“Fuck, Avery, do it.”
My hands grab her face and I push her onto me.
Instead of fighting me, she obliges and opens her mouth. At first she only takes the tip of it into her mouth to suck on it.
Fireworks explode in my head, and I want to fucking push my cock right down her throat.
Her fingers are now playing with my balls as she takes me in all the fucking way. I wait for her to fucking gag, but she doesn’t. Almost too easily she accommodates me, even though I feel as if I’m halfway down her throat.
Any prior restraint is going out the fucking window. Her magic mouth is releasing any last bit of restraint I’ve been able to fucking exercise.
Avery expertly accepts my hard, fast thrusts in and out of her mouth. Not only does she fucking accommodate me, she fucking drives me mad with pleasure. Her tongue does things I can’t fucking understand, only feel.
It does not take long for my fucking cock to grow to fucking capacity, and I feel myself about to unload a massive amount of cum.
If she doesn’t want to swallow, it’s too fucking late.
I can’t pull out of her. I’m too far gone. I’ve jumped off the fucking cliff without a fucking parachute. The free fall is fucking exhilarating and exciting.
As she starts to swallow, hungrily and eagerly, it’s as if I’m landing on a sea of clouds. I float and shoot every last bit of me into her mouth.
She has no trouble swallowing the fucking lot.
Spent, I throw my head back and finally relinquish hers.
But what kind of man would I be if I let her finish me off like that without returning the favor?
No kind of man. No kind of man at all.
Chapter 32
Avery
I watch Jack’s face and feel oddly satisfied. He wanted me to take him, and I did. And not only that, I swallowed every last bit of his cream-colored cum.
I lick my lips and slide upward, snake-like, until my face is eye level with his.
My lips find his. At first I’m tentative. When he grabs me rough and tight, my heart starts to race.
He opens his eyes, and the fire smoldering there surprises me.
“You asked for this,” he growls, and fear takes a hold of me. It is as if icy fingers are squeezing my insides tightly.
Have I overstepped the mark? Maybe I shouldn’t have given him a blowjob after he told me that terrible story.
But it didn’t even feel like me sucking Jack’s cock. It felt like someone else—someone more experienced, wiser, more capable of comforting Jack in his time of need in every way.
That’s all I had wanted to do. Comfort him.
“Jack,” I mumble, but he seems to take no notice.
“And you know what this means?”
This is a different kind of Jack, a Jack I haven’t met before.
“It means you need to be punished.”
By now my heart is beating so fast I think I might hyperventilate.
Oh my gosh. Why am I getting wet at the thought of that?
“How do you think you should be punished?”
His fingers are digging into my shoulders.
Pain.
And at the same time pleasure, ripping through me like a speeding train. The cocktail of emotions overpowering and intoxicating, more so than an alcoholic drink.
Tiny flickers of pleasure grow with each and every one of his menacing words.
I blink the tears away. It’s Jack. It’s the same Jack who made love to me before.
It’s the real Jack. Realization dawns. Jack really wants to fuck me, and he wants to do it his fucking way—no more exercising restraint, or being gentle.
This was going to be a fuck like I’ve never had one before.
I know exactly what I want Jack to do to me, but I continue in my role as the innocent. The angel.
“You know what’s best for me, Jack.”
He needs no further fucking invitation.
I see him nod.
“You’re absolutely fucking right.”
My heart is still beating a little faster than usual and my mouth is dry. I lick my lips.
Jack lifts me up and puts me on the ground. He drapes my upper body over the couch so I’m kneeling.
It takes him no time at all to rip my fucking clothes off. My ass is bare and exposed. I can feel the heat of the flames lap at my skin, like the waves lap onto the beach.
The wait and anticipation has me already so fucking wet between my legs I could take him inside me right now.
I peer at him and my eyes nearly pop out of my head when I see him holding his leather belt in his hands.
The first contact with the hard leather on my bare ass has me squeal in pain.
“Oh my god,” I howl and feel tears shoot to my eyes.
At the same time, I’m about to explode with lust.
“What did you say? You little fucking slut. You want more?”
The strap connects with my skin again. I arch my back and throw my head backwards. Jack keeps spanking me with the leather.
I’m sure red welts are forming on my ass, but I want fucking more.
When he stops, I’m so fucking ready I beg him to take me.
“Jack, please fuck me,” I’m panting.
His fingers trace an invisible line along my spine. I turn into a bowl of trembling fucking jelly.
When he gets to my ass, he stops.
I wiggle it toward him.
Slowly my fears and inhibitions fall away from me.
His hands reach under me and he picks me up again. I feel him push me toward the fireplace. My breathing is so fast now I feel as if I’ve run and won the one-hundred-meter race.
There’s a box with wood, and Jack tips it over with his foot. Then he lifts me up and has me stand on it. My body’s pressed against the wall.
His right hand grabs my hands and brings them up over my head where he keeps them.
The flames licking up in the fireplace throw our bodies into a strange light.
I half turn my head to see what he’s doing.
His ma
ssive cock is at my ass.
That’s what the box is for. I’m so short, I require a step-stool for ass-fucking.
He wouldn’t, would he?
Wide-eyed, I watch him guide his long thick poker right into my hole.
“Fuuuuuuucccckkkk,” I moan, arching my back.
At first Jack is able to exercise some restraint. He eases that massive, thick cock slowly into my most private hole.
I feel him work against the tightness.
My legs are about as ooey-gooey as chocolate lava cake. In fact, my whole body feels as if it might just dissolve onto the floor.
When he’s all the way in, Jack starts to work himself into a rhythm. I’ve never felt anything like this before.
The heat of the flames combines with the heat of our bodies. I fear we might combust any second.
Jack is pumping in and out of me like a piston in an engine. My tits are bouncing up and down as my body goes limp and Jack holds me up.
“Yeeeessss,” I hiss and push against Jack and his growing cock.
The box sways a little. Jack’s free hand grabs my tits and starts squeezing them and pinching my nipples.
Fuck.
I feel explosions of pleasure rip through me. Fireworks are exploding in my head, and somewhere behind my belly button, a giant volcano erupts, unleashing molten lava through each and every one of my pores.
If someone were to measure the amount of pleasure I was experiencing, like people measure earthquakes, I would be off the fucking scale.
Beads of sweat roll down my neck, shoulders, and back. I’m so fucking hot.
With each and every thrust, Jack is unleashing a different part of the old me.
Gone is Daddy’s girl. In its place is a new me. A me who likes to be dominated and fucked by Jack. A me who is no longer inhibited about sex and exploring a man’s fucking cock.
Not just any man, but Jack.
My Jack.
Thinking of him in terms of mine adds to the intensity of my pleasure. I think of stirring molten chocolate, because that is how my insides feel.
And then just like that, Jack pulls out of me.
My heart only seconds before filled to the brim with love, shatters into millions of shrapnel.
I’ve done something wrong, but what?
Just as I’m trying to put the question into words, Jack grabs me and picks me up. There’s no hate in his eyes. Animalistic lust flickers in them.