by Monica James
I suddenly feel sick.
Seeing Saxon and Piper together was one of the main reasons why I had sex with Sam. Not one of my proudest moments, but I was so angry that he was sleeping with someone…other than me.
Oh my god. What have I done?
Thinking back to our heated conversation, I realize that Saxon didn’t confess he slept with Piper. I assumed, then I accused. Yes, he didn’t deny it. But what good would it have done? I was adamant it happened—I used it as an excuse to justify my actions. But even if he did tell me the truth, it couldn’t erase what I did with Sam.
Slumping onto the bar stool, I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the roots. “What happened?”
“Well, I was pretty drunk, but from what I can remember, I tried to kiss him.” My fingers curl into fists. “He politely said no, and when I asked was it because he didn’t like me, he said he liked me just fine. When I questioned why he wouldn’t kiss me then, he replied he was in love with someone else, and he has been for a very long time. I then proceeded to throw my guts up for the next hour—nothing to do with his comment, by the way.”
I gasp, tears stinging my eyes. Piper turns serious when she sees my reaction. “I thought that person was maybe Sophia…but that person is…you, isn’t it, Luce? Saxon loves you. He has all along.” She’s found a missing piece to this ever growing puzzle.
“I don’t know,” I cry.
“Is that why you slept with Sam? Because you thought I had sex with Saxon?” Piper has always been the bright one in our relationship. “Oh, Luce. No. Is that why you’re running away to Syria? You’re in love with both of them, aren’t you?”
“I-I need to find him.” I snivel back my tears, standing. “Stall them. Whatever happens, make sure they don’t come find us. Lie, do whatever you have to.” Piper nods. She’s always got my back. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you first. I just thought—”
“It doesn’t matter. Explains the cold shoulder these past few weeks.”
“Sorry, Pipe. I’ll make it up to you.” I quickly kiss her on the forehead before tearing out the backdoor.
This misunderstanding has cost me so much. If I hadn’t jumped to conclusions, none of this would have happened. It’s all my fault.
I know where he is, without even needing to look for him. I run towards the barn, a plume of smoke hinting he’s behind the wall. My ragged breathing alerts him to my presence, and he ducks his head around to see who’s there.
When our eyes meet, everything changes and it’s game on.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demand, charging over to him.
“From where I stand, I don’t think you’re in any position to be asking me that,” he barks, flicking his cigarette to the ground.
I come to a halt, surprised. “Why do you care if I’m going anyway? You’ve made your feelings for me quite clear. I still don’t understand why you’re still here? It’s obvious you don’t want to be, so go back to Oregon.”
“I like it here. Sophia—”
The moment her name leaves his lips, I scream. “And you call me a liar!” I’m certain he’s using her as an excuse to stay, but I want to know why.
“I thought this is what you wanted,” he snarls, pointing to the house. “Isn’t that why you invited her to the party? To get me out of your hair.”
No, this most certainly is not what I wanted.
“Are you guys dating?” He’s silent. “Are you dating her?” I demand once again.
“No,” he finally replies. It appears things are definitely not what they seem.
Hurtling forward, I shove at his chest with both hands. He stumbles backwards, caught off guard. “Why didn’t you tell me you never slept with Piper?”
“What difference would it have made? You believed what you wanted to believe. And it wouldn’t have changed the fact you fucked him.”
I pull back, stunned by his fury. “What else was I meant to think? You were taking her into your room.”
“Where I held back her hair and watched her be sick for an hour. Then I put her to bed.” His chain of events corroborates with Piper’s. “Once she fell asleep, I went to look for you. I wanted to apologize for upsetting you. However, when I couldn’t find either you or Sam, it was obvious where you had gone. And what you were doing.”
I’ve never seen him angrier as he pushes past and storms into the barn. But this isn’t over. Chasing after him, I latch onto his arm, spinning him, forcing him to look at me. The barn is dimly lit with rustic sconces.
“Why does it matter if I had sex with Sam? What difference does it make to you?” He turns his cheek, his jaw clenched. “Why?” I scream. “For once, be honest and tell me the truth!”
His face contorts as he pounces forward, gripping my upper arms firmly. His anger takes my breath away. “Because…I fucking love you!” He shakes my limp form, my body sagging like a ragdoll. “I can’t stand being around you…you rip out my heart…time and time again. But I can’t stand being away from you either!”
Too much is happening. The world is spinning, and I’m afraid I’m about to move with it. He loves me? Since when? Piper said he’s loved someone for a long time. Is that person me?
“You l-love m-me?” I whisper, my eyes locked with his.
“Yes. I do. God damn it, I do!” he confesses, appearing plagued by the truth. “Ask me again why I’ve stayed.”
I know he’s referring to our conversation all those weeks ago when I asked him what reason is there for him to stay. I remember thinking that when I do ask him, his response will change everything I believe in and love. And I was right.
“Why did you stay, Saxon? What reason is there for you to stay?”
Releasing his grip around me, he drops his hands by his side. He is saddened, defeated by this entire confession, and I don’t know why. “The reason is you, Lucy. It’s always been you. All I wanted was you…but you never wanted me back.” I now understand his heartache. He doesn’t know if his admission will make a difference, but it has.
Suddenly, everything falls into line. “I-I want you now.”
“What?” he wheezes, his chest rising and falling quickly.
“I want you. God help me, I’ve wanted you from the moment I threw myself in your arms and you caught me. I thought you felt that too… but you were so quick to dismiss our kiss,” I reveal, finally understanding why I was so hurt.
He rushes forward, securing a hand to the side of my neck, begging me to listen. The contact is like a red hot poker to my heart. “I was scared of losing you. Of you running away from me. I saw the look in your eyes. The look of guilt, uncertainty. I’d prefer to pretend than lose you again.”
“Again?” What does he mean by that?
But he ignores me. His eyes turn a molten, dangerous blue, and I gulp. “You want me, and not him?”
I know what he’s asking, but I can’t answer truthfully because I don’t know. When he reads my indecision, he strokes his thumb over my sprinting pulse. “It’s simple. You either want me or you don’t.”
This is it. D-day. Time to face what I’ve been too afraid to confront all along. I’ll deal with the repercussions tomorrow because right now, right this second, I just want to be free. “I want…you. All of you.”
He’s on top of me before I can protest, not that I would because I want this as much as he does. We slam our bodies together, a union of chaos and madness. He drags me closer by the hips, while I wrap my hands around his nape, smashing my lips to his. The kiss is frantic, uncontrolled, it’s the inconvenient, messy, and reckless kind of love that I’ve been missing, craving since I first saw Saxon.
His mouth is wicked, soft and hard in all the right places as he kisses me with a ferocity I desperately need. I tug at his long strands of hair, fusing our lips together, needing to feel every part of him ingrained into my entire being. He grunts low, his tongue tangoing with mine, unbending to be in control as he cups my cheeks into his palms. But I surrender, happy to submit and be devo
ured.
His impressive length pushes between my legs, sending an uncontrollable quiver to my toes. I remember watching him jerk off in the shower, and how taboo I felt. I want to feel that again.
As he dominates my mouth, I pull at his belt buckle. It unclips, allowing me to snap open his button and thrust my hand inside of his jeans. I gasp when I feel he’s hard, hot, and ready for me, utterly exposed, as he’s not wearing any underwear. I don’t waste a second and wrap my hand around his long, torrid shaft and begin moving up and down. I’m never this sexually aggressive, but I feel if I don’t consume him this instant, I just may explode.
He growls, a hungry, primitive sound which spurs me on, giving me the confidence to stroke him faster and harder. His skin is like velvet, his arousal coating his thick head. “Oh, fuck,” he curses, tearing his mouth from mine and throwing back his head.
The veins in his neck are tensed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows deeply. With my hand still down his pants, I lunge up and suck over his pulse, biting and licking, desperate to leave a mark—to show the world he’s mine.
He cries out, his length pulsating in my palm—I hold the power and it’s a heady aphrodisiac. “I watched you,” I confess around sucking his throat.
“Watched what?” he forces out, bucking his hips in time with my riotous rhythm.
“In the shower. I watched you get yourself off.” I should feel ashamed for confessing such sins, but I don’t.
“Did you like to watch?”
“Yes,” I reply, feeling myself grow slick.
“Good,” he growls, quickly reaching for my hand and yanking it from his jeans.
I stagger back, confused, but he makes his intentions clear as he roughly grips the hem of my dress and tears it over my head and off my body. “Now it’s my turn to watch.”
I don’t question it because nothing has felt as good as this. I reach around and unclip my white lace bra. It falls to the ground a second later, my nipples hardening as his eyes devour me whole. I’m not big busted, but Saxon’s hum of approval erases my fears. He reaches out and cups my breast with trembling fingers, hissing and cursing. He fondles me until I’m mewling for more.
He gives me more, so much more as he bends down and sucks my pebbled nipple into his mouth while massaging my other breast with his hand. I feel so full, so alive; I don’t know how much longer I can endure this sweet torment.
My underwear is soaked, my core so needy and hot, every suck, lick, and pull is like a slap to my clit. When I can’t take it anymore, I boldly slip my hand between my legs and commence putting out the uncontrolled fire within me. My flesh is slick and ripe, ready to be picked and consumed.
I toss my head back, squeezing my eyes shut, focusing on his hands, mouth, and body as I work my fingers deeper and deeper within me. I’m so close, I can taste the inevitable, and I know when I do, I’ll be addicted to the taste.
Just as I rub over my center in a wide circle, Saxon secures my wrist and jerks my hand out from my underwear. I scream in protest because I was so, so close, but his deep, throaty chuckle reveals it’s only just begun.
“That’s my job,” he hums, drawing my hand to his lips and suckling my fingers. They’re coated with my arousal and I blush, embarrassed. “You taste incredible.” He continues lapping my fingers, not leaving an inch untouched.
This action alone has me rubbing my thighs together, so desperate to come, I’m ready to beg. With a possessed passion, I grip the lapels of his shirt and rip them apart, sending buttons scattering all over the barn. His lips coil, happy with my aggression.
My action sets us both off and before long, we are madly pulling and yanking at one another’s clothes, anxious to get them off. The moment we’re both naked, he lifts me up like I weigh no more than a feather, and carries me to a mountain of straw bales. He tosses me onto them, his eyes hungrily watching my breasts bounce up and down. I crawl backwards, the straw tickling my ass and thighs. The feel is a mixture between pleasure and pain.
I wait for him to climb on top of me, to connect us in a way I so desperately crave. But he doesn’t. He just stands and watches me. I subconsciously cover my chest, but he shakes his head, quickly leaning forward to expose myself to him.
“Reality is so much better than what I pictured it would be. You’re fucking beautiful, Lucy. I don’t deserve you.”
His heartfelt confession has me kneeling forward and wrapping an arm around his nape, drawing him on top of me. His weight is perfect, and we align like we were meant to be one. We kiss, but this kiss isn’t passion filled, it’s laced with love—a kiss which I’ve longed to share.
I’m ready, I want him, so I scissor my legs, needing to feel him inside of me. He dips a hand between us, running two fingers along my slippery opening. I mewl into his mouth, opening my legs wider, needing him to bring this home. And he does. He works a finger into me, us both crying out at the sensation.
He’s gentle, but he’s also impatient, like he’s reining in his passion because he wants to take it slow. But I don’t want slow. I just want him.
I bite his bottom lip while gripping his thick length, guiding him where I need him to be. He grunts when we touch, pulling his lips away to look into my eyes. I brush the hair from his brow, yearning to be lost in his sea green depths and never be found.
“Are you sure? This changes everything.” He’s trembling and I don’t know why, but nothing has felt sweeter.
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.” Sealing my mouth over his, I arch my back and just like that, we become one.
He works his way in slowly, he’s big, massive in fact, and it takes a while for my muscles to accept him. But when they do, I’m in heaven.
We continue kissing as he rocks into me, careful not to take things too fast. But we learn this dance quite quickly, our bodies falling in sync with each other as he speeds up the momentum. I’m with him every step of the way, pushing when he pulls and acting as a yin to his yang.
He fills me to the brim, his girth bringing tears to my eyes. As he bucks into me faster, I yelp, and he instantly freezes. “I’m sorry. Have I hurt you?” The panic is clear on his face as he wipes the tears from the corner of my eyes.
“Don’t stop,” I reply breathlessly, hooking my leg around him to deepen the angle. He grins, and continues a controlled, steady rhythm.
I know he’s holding back. I can feel his deliberate strokes are poised and restrained. But I don’t want poised and restrained. I’ve lived my life under that pretense for far too long. I clench my muscles around him, rocking my hips and meeting him thrust for thrust. He groans and gives into my needy demands.
As he pumps into me ardently, all barriers between us slip away and all that’s left is Saxon and Lucy—nothing exists but us, and it’s beautiful. I place my palm over his hammering heart, right over his hourglass tattoo, appreciating the significance of it. Time will never change the fact that I love him, too.
He grips my thigh, pulling my leg out further so he can drive into me at a punishing speed. But I want it. I take everything he gives me, throwing my head back, my body lax. The bundle of nerves are treading so close to the surface, I can taste it.
He watches where we’re connected, the satisfaction that I’m finally his showing as he grins. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you this way.” My eyes roll into the back of my head as he sinks into me over and over again.
I’m seconds away from coming but almost scream in protest when he stops moving and withdraws from me quickly. My muscles clench and spasm, missing his skillful shaft, but they purr in pleasure when he scoops a hand around my belly and turns me, arranging me to rest on all fours.
He glides his fingertips over my scars, tracing each jagged one. I attempt to shift away, conscious and ashamed, but he doesn’t allow me to move an inch. A strangled sob and sigh gets trapped in my throat when he presses his lips to the ugliness, making me feel beautiful and loved.
Each lash of his
tongue erases away the past and before long, my ass is high in the air as I arch my back, desperate to feel him inside of me once more. What I feel however is his pointer running down the pleat of my behind before his hands spread me open like a rosebud in bloom. When he buries his face between my backside, I try and scamper away, mortified and self-conscious, but he hooks a hand underneath me and draws me even further backwards so I’m bucking onto his face. I’m burning up from embarrassment, but also yearning. I feel downright desirable.
His tongue and mouth are in places no one has ever ventured before. He leaves no part of me untouched, leaving me squirming and shamelessly begging for more. The sound of his hand rubbing up and down his length fills my mind with erotic images, which has me letting go of restraint and riding out this feeling of pure bliss.
He is in tune with my impending release as he reaches between us and rubs over my swollen bud. The moment his deft fingers play me like an instrument made only for him, I scream, my hips bucking wildly, ready to ride out my release.
A startled cry escapes me as he slaps my ass cheek before pulling his mouth away and replacing his shaft where his lips once were. He pushes into me so deeply, I’m certain I can feel him imprinted into every part of my body. He rides me hard, punishing, and I like it. I slam back onto him as he thrusts into me over and over and over again.
He secures a hand around my waist, holding me prisoner, while the other coils around my hair, using my locks as reins. I feel him everywhere and I never want him to leave. That thought has me buckling, and I ride out a release so great, I can’t help but choke back a sob. I’ve never felt this way before and whether it’s in the throes of passion, or in happiness that I’m finally free, I roar, “I…fucking love you, too!”
My words have Saxon humming, almost howling in relief. He drives into me, ensuring I feel every slow stroke. He’s dominating, confident, and possesses every part of me, and I love it. I love him. After what seems likes hours, he bellows out his climax with an earth-shattering howl as he collapses on top of me.