“Now,” she states simply as she leans her hands forward, grabbing my shirt collar and falling back with me in her clutches. I put both of my hands out to support my weight as we topple backwards.
She looks up at me once again, her eyes full of adoration and love. As our lips fuse and connect, I feel our hearts melt into one beating organ, fuelling and powering our entwined bodies.
Abigail
I have never felt so close to him, throughout the entire time we have known one another, I haven’t felt this connected and at one with him.
As he had whipped my arse, repeatedly bringing that flogger down, he fixed each broken and cracked segment of my frail heart. Fuck it, the guy is my fucking heart. He is the blood that pumps through my veins, the oxygen that flows through my body, the heat that covers every inch of me and every thought that filters through my brain.
I couldn’t be more content right now, here with Leighton, in our bed.
I hold onto his collar, desperate to keep him close to me as my lips mate with his. I have needed this from the very moment I had seen the lipstick heart, the one I thought my soul mate had left me. “Leighton.” I moan into his mouth as I push my tongue through his welcoming opening. “Baby,” I say, twirling my tongue with his. I release one hand from his collar, allowing me the freedom to reach to his head and clutch a handful of his thick, silky hair.
“Abbi, baby, I need you,” he whispers in my ear, as his lips leave mine and trail the sensitive length of my throat.
“Yes,” I reply, “now.” I release him completely, using both hands to unbutton the expensive cotton of his shirt, pushing it completely open as my hands release the final button. I bring my palms to his firm chest, digging my nails into his skin lightly, before dragging them the entire length of his torso.
“FUCK,” he moans, as he grinds his still denim-clad crutch against my bare one. “Jeans” he says sternly, and my hands instinctively shoot down between us and release the metal button that stands between his cock and me.
He assists with the removal, standing from the bed and pulling them completely off. His dick springs free as the denim rolls down his thighs. Without the confinements of any boxers, it juts forward, proud and wanton. I have to swallow a fucking huge lump in order to let myself breathe. I have missed him with such a raw desire and need, that I feel faint just thinking about his skin against mine.
He stands naked, glorious and the perfect Adonis I know him to be, before he kneels at the end of the bed and stalks his way to me, every inch of him grazing and burning my body even more. The magnets are in play, because as soon as his cock aligns with the very wet opening of my pussy we’re adjoined, his dick sliding deep inside and fusing with me.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I moan loudly, nearly screaming as he fills my cunt full. “Oh god.”
“God has nothing to do with this, Angel, this is all me. You want more?” he asks me, pulling out a little.
“Yes, god yes,” I beg. I know I sound desperate but I couldn’t care less, I would beg on my knees for even five minutes with the man.
“What? Like this?” He slams back into me, the few inches he has removed now back inside me.
“ARRGGHHH!” This time I do scream, and it feels fucking good. “More,” I ask, pleading, begging, whatever the fuck it is, I will do it again, no questions asked.
“Like this?” he asks again, this time pulling out and pushing back in repeatedly, no teasing or tormenting me, just pure and utter pleasure. White-hot desire courses through him and into me.
“Ah-huh,” I say, unable to talk properly. I bring my hands round to clasp his glorious arse, holding his tensing cheeks as he pounds his rock hard erection into my sodden cunt.
“Ahhh, Leighton, baby, god, fuck, harder.” I manage to breathe out between each of his thrusts.
I dig my nails in violently as he smashes his pelvis against mine, knocking the air out of my lungs as he drives me higher and higher, until I topple over the deathly peak.
“COMING!” I manage to scream out, clenching around his imposing length, my inner walls contracting and spasming around him. My death grip clearly sends him spiralling out of control, because less than ten seconds later he is shooting inside of me, his hot cum coating my inside and lubricating his delicious gliding further.
“So. Fucking. Tight,” he bites out between every thrust forward, the head of his cock smashing deliciously, painfully against my cervix.
When he is spent, having exhumed every ounce of energy, he rests his forehead to mine, his breath mingling in the air with my own, and his hands framing the sides of my head. “I love you, Angel.”
“And I you, Leighton, so much.” I lean my head up and capture his soft lips with my own. “Babe, do you think we should get up and maybe appease our guests a little?” I ask him after a while, not really wanting to move at all.
“Of course, but first let me look at your back.” I know what he means. After every session he would check my marks, sometimes welts, clean them and cream them, making sure they are ok. He is a gentleman in its most rarest, peculiar, fucked up form.
He climbs from me after kissing my nose gently. I roll myself over onto my front, my breasts pushing into the mattress. I can feel the remnants of both our orgasm trickling out, coating the sheets below me. I tell myself I need to remember to change them before bedtime.
“How you feeling sweetheart?” he asks me, as he trails his fingers down my back. I hiss out as it stings my flesh, but it doesn’t cause me pain. It sends a wonderful feeling through me, a good feeling, a feeling that tells me I am once again alive.
“Good. More than good actually, thank you.”
“You never need to thank me for pleasuring you Angel. Plus, this is my thing, remember, so I should really thank you for letting me paint your beautiful skin.” He rubs the last of the marks with cream and then kisses between my shoulder blades.
I giggle at him as I turn and sit myself up in one move, to avoid my creamy back touching the sheets. “Oops,” I say, giggling again.
“What’s funny?” he asks.
I point between my crossed legs where the black sheets now lay a sticky white mess.
“No oops there sweetness, that’s a sign of a good fucking time. Unless you didn’t find it good that is.” He winks at me as he pulls his jeans back over his legs.
“Oh, Mr Lock, I found it very good.” I swing my legs off the bed and walk to the en-suite bathroom.
I feel a sharp sting on my arse as he slaps it as I walk past him. “You have an amazing backside Miss Adams, soon to be Lock." He has the biggest smile on his face at the thought of it.
“Yes, very soon, less than two months. We only have a few tiny bits to sort out. I can’t wait to be your Mrs Lock,” I tell him as I quickly use a flannel in the bathroom, to rid myself of his sticky cum.
“I can’t wait to take your dress off of you at the end.”
“Leighton, that is not all I am here for,” I mock scold him; I know he is joking, but his alpha bullshit actually makes me feel all kinds of hot.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re here for whatever I want you for.” He catches me around the tummy as I walk past him back towards the bed, pulling me onto him again. His back is to my front, his hard cock pressed against my arse once more. “Like I want you again right now, this very second Abigail.” His voice is hoarse and deep and smothered in that delicious British accent that makes me tingle all over.
“What do you want me for, Sir?” I ask, turning myself into the obedient, well-behaved submissive girl he likes.
“Pet, you do crazy things to me, you know that? There’s not nearly enough time in this world to do all the things I want to do to you. But right now, I don’t want anything from you; I want to give to you, if you’ll let me?” His words feel sweet and soft but the underlying message in them is far from that.
“Yes please, Sir.” I almost beg but I manage to maintain some sort of self-respect.<
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“Good girl, now lie down on your back, close your eyes and lay very still.” I am still completely naked, but he is wearing those sexy jeans that make his arse look like perfection but his chest and stomach are bare, that ink and those muscles rippling over every inch of him.
I nod and then move back over to cum-soaked sheets and lie myself down atop them. I try not to cringe as my back smudges into the now cold spunk.
I feel the bed dip at the end, his warm hands lifting my legs so they are bent and then spreading them wide. I draw in a deep breath as I prepare my body for the assassination it is going to undergo right now, because I know, as soon as his tongue laps the length of my cunt, I am done for, I am outright dead and in heaven.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he says as his fingers separate my wet folds, teasing the hood of my clit.
My groin jumps up the second his hot, wet tongue slides the length of me, my entire body sparking to life once more. “Oh god,” I cry out, my eyes squeezed tightly closed. I am nothing without Leighton, he is everything to me, he is me.
He flicks my clit rapidly, repeatedly, hard probes of his strong muscle against me. I am close to coming already. “Fuck!” I shout as two of his fingers spear me, stretching my pussy open and then fucking me.
“You like that Angel?” he asks me, licking my pussy deep and hard, lapping at my clit.
“Ah-huh,” I reply, trying to remain in control before concluding there is no point, I’m not in control, I never have been. Leighton controls every morsel of my existence, so I give myself over to him, willingly.
I relax into the sheets and let him take me to paradise.
I clench the cotton hard as my orgasm hits, my cunt contracting, my clit throbbing and my pussy pouring juices freely.
“You taste so amazing,” he tells me, as he licks up every ounce I have to give.
“Wow.” I say breathily. “That was, just wow,” I continue, trying to gather my breath from the screams that have used up my oxygen.
“That’s me, baby; I’m an expert at oral.” He stands from the bed, holding my hand to help me up. The wink his sparkling green eyes throw my way, melt me.
“Should we see to our guests?” he asks me, chucking a shirt around his magnificent body.
I am once again at peace, at ease and at home.
Leighton
I make my way downstairs, my fiancée holding my hand as I feel the upmost perfection wash over me. I’ve never felt so fantastic, so at peace and so right. Nothing in this world has ever felt this right to me.
“Leighton, George is here,” Brandon tells me as we enter the kitchen to get a drink. I pour myself a coffee to wake myself up, Abbi makes herself a hot chocolate, pouring a little alcohol in with it.
I watch as Brandon leaves the kitchen, leaving Abbi and I alone. I know I have to tell her about Joe now, because he is here, he will be here from this day forward.
“Abbi, I need to tell you something,” I say timidly. Her eyes snap to mine, heartbreak already washing over them.
“Please, Leighton, don't tell me you did?” she asks me, and I know she is referring to some kind of betrayal.
“What? No, not at all, Abbi,” I answer rapidly to ease her. I walk to her side, taking the mug of chocolate from her and placing it on the counter top. “Georgia, my little sister is here. She has brought someone from my past with her, someone I was never going to tell you about; I didn’t think I would ever need to, to be honest. But, well, you’ll see when we get to the lounge.” I can’t tell her, her face already seems so sad and hurt. I’ll let her put two and two together and see if she makes four.
She doesn’t answer me, she just picks up her hot chocolate, staring into the little swirls of fluid.
I place my arm around her, pulling her to me to offer her comfort. “I would never hurt you like that, Abbi. Please believe me. I'm going to need you, Abbi,” I tell her sadly, knowing I am about to embark on the hardest journey my life has ever taken. Losing Josie was one thing, a devastating loss that turned me into the monster I secretly am, but bringing up my son, a boy I don't even know, who doesn’t even know me, is going to be hard.
“I’ll always support you, Leighton, you know this,” she whispers back to me, leaning in to me a little, but still looking at the dark chocolate liquid in her cup.
“I hope you will,” I say under my breath.
We walk from the kitchen, my heart rate furious and spiked. I use Abbi as my support, using her body to keep me upright, to stop me from falling over. I feel so weak right now, physically and emotionally. I can't bear to see the hurt on Joe’s face when he looks at me, knowing I left without saying goodbye, left like I promised I never would.
“Leighton,” I hear my sister say as I enter the lounge. Georgia pounds into me, causing Abbi to jump out of her daydream, her arms surrounding me.
“Hi, Georgia. You do know we saw each other less than twenty four hours ago, right?” I ask her, laughing at her over-the-top affection.
“Yeah, but can't a girl miss her big brother?” She looks up to me, her tiny little frame reaching my chest. She smiles admiringly at me, the way she always used to. It makes my heart swell inside my chest, a steady loving rhythm, pounding away.
“Of course she can, sweetheart. Georgia, meet my fiancée and the mother of my baby, Abigail.” I point to Abbi standing next to me shyly. It is weird, Abbi has never been shy, far from it, but she is standing like an outsider looking in.
I see the total shock marring my Abbi’s face, as my little sister pulls her in for a hug, kissing her cheek after. “Hi, I’ve heard so much about you. You have to meet Joe.” She squeals excitably, making me send her the filthiest look ever.
“Joe?” Abbi asks me, turning her head to me.
As if on cue, Joseph runs into the lounge, a smile and laugh coming from him. Everyone here except for Abbi, knows who Joe is. They saw me bringing him up from a tiny premature baby. She really was the outsider now, well at least I expect she feels that way.
“Auntie Georgia, I saw the baby. I have a little sister now, I’ve always wanted one.” He shouts loudly, laughing and running around like a nutter.
Abbi stares at me in shock, tears filling her eyes. Whether in hurt, sadness or happiness, I have no clue, and the thought scares the shit out of me.
“Dad!” Joe shouts through my lounge, making me smile hard, my own eyes watering. He hasn’t used the word yet, I hadn’t expected him to for a while, but I suppose with the shit he has been dealt this last week, he will grasp anything positive that he can.
I'm thrown back a little as my son runs into me, his arms wrapping around my stomach. “Joe.” I bend down to his height, scared to look at him in case I see hate there.
“Yep,” he replies, playing with the toy in his grasp.
“Are you okay?” I ask quietly. Looking for any sign that he isn’t as good as he is making out. All I see in his bright blue eyes is happiness, pure and utter joy at the world around him.
“Yup, I'm good. Can I go play with Melissa please, dad?” he asks me, and I have to rub away a few tears that are falling.
“She is a little too small to play with, but if you sit with Auntie Georgia you can cuddle her,” I tell him and he smiles at me, bright and wonderfully.
“Joe, before you run off I’d like you to meet someone,” I instruct him, his eyes moving to the woman next to me.
“This is my fiancée, Joe, Melissa’s mummy,” I explain to him, his eyes sad as I can see him longing for his own mum.
“She isn’t my mummy, though.” He drops his head, a pain searing through me that I can't bear. I had loved his mum with everything I was, a love as fierce as for Abbi, and when I lost her, he lost her. There is no way I could ever replace Josie, she was beyond words and always will be. How I explain to Abbi that I was once in love, had a child and then had my fiancée ripped from me by my father, I don't know. I don't even know if she’ll understand it.
&nb
sp; “No, son, she isn’t. But, she is a lovely lady, very kind. She will always keep you safe, just like daddy will,” I inform him, putting my arm around him and pulling him to me. It feels so good for him to be positive; I feared that he would have run off, not wanting to know me.
“She’s not mummy,” he repeats before running off and jumping on my sister’s lap. I can hear the little cries coming from him, and then the cries coming from Abbi as I turn and look at her. I’m trapped, not knowing who to attend to, who to comfort first.
“Baby,” I say to my fiancée, knowing Joe’s being looked after.
She shakes her head, turning and walking away.
I take a quick glance to my sister with Joe. She mouths to me ‘go’, returning her attention to my son.
I run after Abbi, catching her running up the stairs. I pull her arm, bringing her close to me. She buries her head in my chest, crying heavily. Heart racking sobs burst from her, her tears drowning my shirt and then my skin.
“You lied, you fucking lied to me.” She shouts through her cries.
I let her take it out on me, screaming, punching at me, clasping on to my top fiercely.
She eventually stops, looking to me again. “You lied,” she tells me, her blue eyes now red and sore, with a watery glaze covering them.
“I know, I’m sorry, Angel. I told you, I didn’t think I would see him again. I thought I had lost him forever. I didn’t want to have to remember everything that happened, everything his memory brought me. I’ve not spoken of him since the day I left,” I reveal to her, wiping my own tears as my heart begins to pull apart for her, aching for her sorrow and despair.
“You left him? You fucking left him? How could you? You were his fucking dad, Leighton.” Her attitude changes from sad to angry in milliseconds. The rage on her face makes me cower, folding into myself. I drop to the floor, leaning my back against the wall. I bring my knees up, leaning my arms on them.
“I know I was a shit fucking dad, a shit fucking person, Abigail. I wish I could turn back the time and be a different person, but life has this cruel way of fucking me over.” I explain, trying to stop myself from completely breaking down.
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