by Emily Snow
“Eventually become? So you view me as weak.” She crosses her arms in front of her.
“Weaker than me? Fuck yes, I do. Once you survive the slaughter—”
“That’s sick, you know!” she yells at me.
My control has officially dissipated.
“Goddammit!” I storm toward her, grab her, pull her against me, and put my mouth on her ear. “Once you have given up your delusions of being safe behind your bullshit walls—which, I will point out, little lamb, leaves you vulnerable, aka, the slaughter—you rebuild yourself, knowing you’re safe. Knowing you’re desired. Knowing the only man you put up a fight against is the one you need to cave to.
“No one. No. One. Will feed your desires, let you fall apart, and stand back and watch you rebuild yourself, drawing from your own unbelievable strength in the safety you’ll find here and the knowledge that, when I get home—when I come home to you—we will be fucking good, so fucking good together.”
I pull back and look in her eyes. “I see you, Mary. I showed you me. Now let’s find us together.”
She is staring back at me yet not saying a damn thing.
“You came back here. You followed your instinct. Don’t ignore it.”
“My instinct is also telling me that you’re going to destroy me.”
“Good, Mary. I hope I do. That way, you can do the work you need to do, that I need you to do, before I get home. In weakness, you will find strength. I promise you that.”
I walk over, grab her phone, and hand it to her. “My plan was to let you do this on your own. Tell him you’re done. I wanted you to do that, to tell me that on your own. That’s why I didn’t fuck you, Mary. That was going to be what I looked forward to the whole damn time I was gone. It was going to be what you dreamt of while I was away. But right now, I need to fuck you as you fall apart. I need to be buried inside your tight, little pussy. I need to be part of the slaughter. Tell him it’s done and do it here.”
I lift her up as I shove my boxers down and sit on the edge of the bed, pulling her on top of me. Her moan is the sound I need to validate that I have finally gotten through to her.
The phone is in her hand, and her pussy is against my cock.
“I won’t fuck you if you have a boyfriend, Mary. Send the message.” I raise my hips, thrusting gently against her. The slickness between her legs is as obvious as my hard, pulsing cock. “You have to.”
She stops and looks at her phone then at me.
“If you need a promise, my word is a promise, Mary. You already have it,” I assure her.
She nods, takes in a deep breath, and types. Then she holds it up for me to read.
I’m sorry to do this by text, but I no longer wish to see where this break leads. We both already knew it was over before now. Best of luck, Joe.
“How long have you been on a break?” I ask, kind of shocked.
“A few weeks,” she answers with an almost proud smile hiding in the horizons of her baby blues. She pushes send.
“You’ve been holding out on me,” I accuse as I take her phone and toss it on the floor.
“Hey,” she quips.
I grab her hips and pull her firmly against my dick. “You could have been riding me for weeks?”
“You could have been a gentlemen and asked me out properly and not been such a—”
I thrust against her again and feel her clench.
“We’ve had dinner on many occasions,” I tell her.
Her eyes are getting that glassy “fuck me” look. The difference is, she’s not fighting it this time, and neither am I.
“The only reason I’ve even held back as long as I have is because I don’t want us to start as a lie.”
She looks at me with a sweetness I have only seen her exude when interacting with her friends. “I’m so afraid of what you will do to me.”
I can’t hold back the smirk. I know damn well what I’m going to do to her.
“No, Shadows, not like that.” She climbs off my lap, and I groan. She sits beside me, pulling the blanket to cover her bare legs. “I’ve been given promises before. I learned that they were only a means to the desired end of”—she looks down—“a truly evil man.”
“First, I’m not evil.”
“I know that,” she whispers.
“Second, a promise is a fucking promise.”
She nods and peeks through her damp hair at me. Then she whispers to me words I have never heard from anyone before. “Promise me you’ll come home.”
It takes me a few seconds to catch my breath enough to reply, “Promise me I’ll have a home to come back to.”
“Okay,” she says with a nod. “I promise.”
“Promise me that, when I call, you’ll answer the damn phone.”
She nods again.
“No excuses. Not that it’s a bad time. Not that you didn’t hear the phone. Not any bullshit, Mary.”
Her bottom lip pops out a little, and I see it quiver.
“Who did that to you?”
I reach up and take her lip between my thumb and finger, pulling her toward me. “Not my girl.”
“Not ever,” she says then pushes my hand away, leans in, and kisses me. She fucking kisses me.
Though it is not verbalized, in that kiss is her promise to me. It’s slow, unhurried. Her tongue and mine do a dance so in tune with one another’s that it causes me to nearly lose my mind, but I don’t. I let it happen. I relish in its meaning.
When she pulls back, I almost don’t let her.
Kissing was never my thing. I have a feeling it will become one of my favorite forms of foreplay, though.
“Do that again,” I demand with need.
“Kiss you?” she asks as she flushes.
“Yeah. It’s just not something I ever spent a whole hell of a lot of time doing.”
“You kissed nearly every inch of my body,” she whispers timidly yet holds eye contact.
“That wasn’t kissing; that was tasting.”
“I liked that a lot.”
“Good, because you’ve replaced Reese’s and are my new favorite flavor.” I push myself up and grab the back of her head. “Now kiss me, dammit.”
Her lips touch mine, and we both open. We are tongues and tastes, licks and lavishes.
Her moans call to my groans in a purely sexual need. My hand leaves her neck and travels down her body as I turn so I am facing her.
I rise to my knees, still licking in her mouth, and pull her up with me. We are on our knees, facing each other. My cock rests just below her tits. I want that connection.
Fuck.
I pull her shirt up but not off, not until we need a breath, because this kissing is so fucking hot.
She clenches my shoulders as I thrust up and down, letting my cock run up and down the smooth skin of her belly then hitting the swell of her breast and back down again, still kissing, licking, tasting each other.
She digs her nails into my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer before shoving my knee between her leg, knowing damn well, if she feels like I do right now, she needs that connection.
I’m sucking on her lip, and she’s taking in oxygen as her hot, sweet breath consumes me. Then I feel her arch her back away, and she whimpers.
I press my lips against her, hoping like hell they don’t bruise hers while I cup her ass low and pull her against me.
I set the pace, squeezing her ass before she pulls away slightly, her wet flesh hitting my knee. Then she pulls back, and I squeeze again. Three more times, and she gets it without words, just our bodies communicating with our tongues, our mouths, no words.
I thrust up and nudge her tits. Then she pushes her pussy against my thigh. I rub my finger between her pussy lips, and she cries out into my mouth.
She releases her hold from my shoulders and pushes her tits together before lowering her body slightly. On my upward thrust, she captures my cock between them.
“Fuck, yes,” I moan as I pump up and
down between her tits, continuing to finger fuck her.
“Want you,” she whimpers.
I pull back from our embrace then lift her, lying her on her back on the bed.
“I fucking hate to ask this,” I say as I kneel between her legs. “You and he use condoms?”
She nods and starts to say, “I’m on—”
“Birth control. I know.”
She looks at me curiously.
“Don’t ask.”
I know every-fucking-thing about her, including that she gets the shot for birth control.
“You trust I’m safe?” I ask.
She nods.
“Good, because I don’t go in without my gear on, but I refuse to with you.”
She spreads her legs wider, her neatly trimmed pussy on full display.
“Fuck, Mary.” I rub my finger up and down her middle. “Pussy’s tight.”
She breathes out slowly and looks down at my cock. “Be gentle.”
“Can’t make that promise,” I tell her, rubbing my tip up and down her slit.
“Try?”
“I’ll try for you, dammit. This time. But fuck if I don’t want you to feel me inside you for as long as I’m gone.”
Admittedly, it sounds pretty fucked up, but it’s not a lie.
“I’m pretty sure I will. You’re”—she swallows hard—“big.”
“Bigger than …?” Did I seriously just ask that? What am I, a fucking teenager?
“Bigger than big. Bigger than …” She closes her eyes. “The biggest.”
I swear my cock grows another inch out of pure elation. Fucking lame, but shit happens. I’ll take it.
I lean down and kiss her inner thighs then lick her deep and hard. I push my tongue inside her as far as I can, and she cries my fucking name.
I nearly blow it.
Chapter Seven
Mary
Torn
I am torn and terrified. Not just about his physical size, but the amount of space he is about to take up in my life. The promises he may break, even though he says he won’t. And the worst of it all is that he leaves tomorrow, and a part of me—a very big part—can’t bear to think of him being in danger.
As if he senses my trepidation, he pushes into me, consuming me physically now, as well.
“You with me, beautiful?”
Beautiful. God, how that word feels out of place in the bedroom. It’s not laden with sex or smut, but adoration. I see it in his eyes, too. Does he truly think I am beautiful?
He strokes his thumb across my clit, causing me to jerk, impaling myself farther.
Dear Lord, he’s … I pause my thought and push myself up on my elbows to see for myself if he is all in. He’s not.
“Jeb,” I whisper. He looks so affected at the use of his name that I feel badly about using it. “Shadows, I’m sorry—”
“Never sorry, Mary. Not you and me.” He strokes a finger across my most sensitive part again, and I hold back from thrusting.
He leans forward then as he pulls one ankle and then the next behind his back. “Need to do this, Mary.” He is now hovering over me and leaning in for a kiss, which I gladly give him.
He sways his hips as he licks around my tongue then up and down before thrusting into me. It’s like a warning. He does it again, swivel and thrust.
God, his body … Every part of it is communicating with me.
My mouth gets another warning before he again slowly pushes into me.
“Little lamb,” he growls as he pulls away from our kiss. His eyes slowly rake down my body until they stop at our connection. “So tight. I swear to you, if I blow it too soon, I’ll make it up to you. Again”—he pushes in harder this time—“and again.” He hisses and stills. “You feeling me?”
“Yes,” I breathe out slowly.
“Fuck, yes.”
He pulls out then pushes in, pulls out and pushes in. I feel like I’m being stretched to the verge of tearing.
“Easy,” I say in a quivering breath.
“So sorry.” He pulls back then leans forward, holding himself above me on his elbows.
He takes my face in both hands. Eye to eye, breath against breath, body against body with nothing between us, he fucks me slowly until I am brought to the brink.
“You’re there, Mary; let go for me.”
“Together,” I pant out and push against him hard.
“Christ, are you trying to undo me?” he growls.
“Together,” I say again.
His mouth takes mine again as he thrusts in and out. I meet each with my own.
“That’s it. Fucking perfect,” he growls and grunts. “Your little pussy is mine, Mary. Mine.”
“Yes!” I cry out. My first orgasm ever with a man inside of me.
He snakes his arms underneath me and lifts my hips as he fucks me harder, faster. I can’t stop coming, and he wouldn’t let me if I could.
“My pussy. My fucking pussy,” he hisses then pulls out.
He drops me and grabs my legs, spreading them farther. Then his mouth covers me. He sucks at my clit, and I feel overwhelmed by sensation.
“Fuck my face, Mary. I want my chin dripping with you.”
Wrong. It sounds so damn wrong.
“Please, beautiful, give it to me,” he pleads.
So I do.
I grind into his face, and he devours me.
Then he rolls over to his back, bringing me with him. I try to get up, but his grip tightens at the same time as his tongue thrusts in and out of me. My hips begin to rock. The noises he makes incite the dark I try to ignore. Regardless, his hunger is not ill-spirited or dirty. It’s raw, it’s real, and it’s not at all about his pleasure. It’s about mine.
He stills me and rubs his face back and forth, bathing in my slickness, and it turns me on. He sucks on my clit so hard I flinch, and he immediately stops. Then he lifts me and guides me back so I’m almost sitting on his dick.
“If I don’t stop, I am going to devour you. Never tasted pussy like yours before. So fucking good.”
“I’m glad you like it. I’m a fan of oral now.”
“Fuck me.” He clenches his eyes shut. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had your pussy eaten.”
I don’t answer. It’s almost embarrassing. Instead, I move back and grab his erection, trying to change the subject non-verbally. My hand doesn’t even fit fully around him.
. “Oh, my …”
“Nice, huh?” He smirks. “I’ve won awards.”
At first, I think he’s being serious, but then he smiles.
I squeeze him, intent on giving him a bit of discomfort.
“Your pussy was tighter than that.” He winks. “Was.”
“You are such—”
“A great lover?” he says, pushing a finger inside of me and making me almost forget I was trying to act annoyed.
Instead, I nod.
He takes in a deep breath and shakes his head. “I need in, Mary.”
He sits up, intent on taking control, but I lift up and slowly start to come down on him.
He hisses, “Fuck me.”
He wraps an arm around me and dips his head, taking my nipple in his mouth.
Sensation overload causes the knowing burn to build. I rock against him as he sucks on one breast while using his thumb and finger to roll the other nipple, all while watching me.
When I hold my breath, trying my best not to cry out, he releases my breast from his hand, but he still has the other in his mouth. Then he wraps his arm around me, flips me to my back, and takes control. Hard and fast this time. I orgasm immediately.
I watch the intense look on his face as he doesn’t slow his pace.
“Gonna come.”
“Yes!” I cry out.
“Gonna come for you and in you, Mary. I’m gonna come so fucking hard,” he grunts and stills briefly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck yes.”
I feel him twitch inside me as liquid heat fills me. Then he begins fucking me faster, harder, a
nd he comes again and again.
When he finishes, he lies on me, his body covered with a slickness from sweat and me.
“A promise is a promise, but topped with the most intense orgasm ever felt or delivered. Little lamb, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth if you try to leave me.”
“Jeb?”
He looks up at the use of his name.
“I’m not afraid of you anymore.” I rub my hand over his forehead, wiping away his sweat.
“Never needed to be.” He pushes himself up and kisses my forehead. “Never will need to. I’m pretty sure I just ruined you for anyone else. God, I hope so.”
He steps off the bed and reaches out to me. “Quick shower with me. Then you’ll need to tuck me in. I’m one hundred and ten percent positive I am ruined, too.”
We stand in the shower under the overhead rain, kissing, just kissing and kissing some more.
Chapter Eight
Shadows
Good night, Little Lamb
When we finally get out of the shower, I am damn sure Mary could file an assault charge against me. I know damn well her lips must be bruised because mine sure as hell feel like they are.
She goes to grab something out of her tote, but I stop her. “No clothes.”
She holds up lip balm, and I can’t help laughing, and she does, too. Then she walks over and pushes up on her toes to put some on me.
“Better be colorless.” I tell her before lifting her up and kissing her cheek. “Left side or right?”
“You decide. I get this whole bed to myself tomorrow.” The sadness in her voice is noted.
I drop her in the bed and then open the door. Shady gets up and walks in the room, and then she promptly jumps up and lies on the side that is hers, the lower left.
“That gonna be a problem?” I ask, climbing in.
“Of course not.” Mary pulls the blanket up around her as she sits and pets Shady. “We’re going to become friends.”
“Thank you, Mary,” I tell her, pulling her back down and against me. “She and I both thank you. She doesn’t like the kennel all that much, but if she gets to be too much—”