by April Lust
Finally, he did let go, but only because he moved lower with his mouth, crawling between my legs. I ran my hands through his thick, dark hair as he planted kisses all over my stomach.
“Do you want me to go lower?” he asked, kissing further down my abdomen to my pelvis.
I whimpered, unable to speak.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, and moved down until he hovered over my mound. He ran his tongue along the soft flesh in the crease alongside my lips, then brought it closer and closer to my moist slit, as he had with his fingers around my nipple. I was whimpering almost constantly, undone by this torment.
“Please, lick me,” I whispered.
“I am licking you,” he said, and swiped his tongue over my slick lips to prove it.
“Deeper,” I begged, demanding satisfaction. He’d teased me long enough.
“Not yet,” he replied, gently and delicately running his tongue along the slit but not going any deeper. I was completely tensed up, my entire body stiff, anticipating his next move.
“So sweet,” he murmured, swiping his tongue along me again.
I could have cried, I was so frustrated. He must have taken pity on me because the next time I felt his tongue it was deep within my folds.
“Yes!” I gasped when he made contact with my aching bud. He held my lips open with his fingers, giving him full access to me. His tongue worked, swirling in circles around that little bundle of nerves, then flicking it back and forth. I felt the pressure in my center build and build the closer I got to my climax.
“Please, oh, please…more…yes…” My entire body was tensed and right on the edge. I grasped the back of his head and held it in place, grinding myself up into his face as my entire body began shaking and trembling, the orgasm spreading through me in waves. My thighs clenched, squeezing his head between them as his tongue continued to dance over me.
I thought I might break into a million pieces, the pleasure was so intense. Wave after wave washed over me in an endless flow. When he slid his fingers inside me to reach my G-spot, I almost leaped off the bed. One orgasm hadn’t ended before another started to build, growing faster than I could keep up with, until I was screaming again as he massaged that special place inside my sheath.
I was left trembling and whimpering in the aftermath. He climbed into bed, holding me close. Emotion swept over me, almost more than I could bear. He stroked my back and murmured in my ear as I came down from the height of so much pleasure. I didn’t understand how he managed to uncover this side of me. I was never the girl who cried after sex.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered once I was calm enough to speak. “I don’t usually do this.”
“It’s okay. As long as you’re not crying because I hurt you or anything.”
“No! Far from it. Though I was pretty sure you were trying to kill me for a minute there.”
He chuckled. “Worse things could happen than a girl crying because she feels so good.” He kissed my forehead, my cheeks. My mouth.
I knew it was like a point of pride for him, seeing how many times he could get me to come before I demanded he stop. I was happy to let him take me and do whatever he wanted, as long as I got to keep coming over and over like this.
He rolled me onto my back, still kissing me softly. I opened my legs, inviting him back inside. I couldn’t believe that after all that, I still wanted more. I was addicted to the way he felt inside me. Watching and listening to this man who had seemed so in control of himself when we first met, who was strong enough to lead a dangerous group of men, lose control of himself when he was inside me. It was better than any drug I could imagine.
“You feel incredible,” I whispered as he entered me again. I gasped, the feeling still so delicious. I didn’t think I would ever get used to it.
He rocked me slowly, barely moving at first. He teased both of us, driving himself slowly into me, so deep. I could only close my eyes and let this new pleasure consume me. And it did, but by inches. He was an expert, knowing just how to move to keep the fire growing and building without letting it flare out of control. He gently ground his length into me, kissing my neck and shoulders as he did. It was the sweetest thing I’d ever felt. It was like we were connecting, body and soul.
This was dangerous, but I couldn’t stop the thought. We weren’t just screwing. We were connecting on a deeper level. It was scary, this dangerous man moving into my heart the way he was. What was scarier was that I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him, all of him. I had finally found someone who lit me on fire and brought happiness to my bruised heart even when I was lower than I’d ever been. I couldn’t let go of that.
My arms and legs tightened around him. I needed him as close as I could get him. He sighed deeply, thrusts coming more quickly now. My fire burned more steadily, and I used my legs against his butt to pull him harder and faster to me while I jerked upward. We moved like this, harder, faster, our cries mingling together until we both tensed. I cried out with my face in his neck, my nails digging into his back. We held each other in those first moments after coming, when I knew I felt the most vulnerable. I couldn’t speak for him, but his trembling told me he was feeling overcome as well.
I stroked the back of his head, kissing his neck until he pulled away and rolled over onto his back. I curled at his side, my head on his chest. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Oh, no, I thought. I hoped I wasn’t falling for him.
###
I was having the most beautiful dream. We were having a picnic, Sara and I. It was a picture-perfect day, the blue sky filled with billowing clouds. A soft breeze brought the scent of salt water to my nose, the waves crashing along the edge of the beach far below our picnic blanket. From our spot on the bluff, I could see for miles in all directions.
She was wearing a white cotton dress which moved in the breeze. She looked so peaceful and angelic. I was so relieved, deep in my soul, to see her looking safe and have her here with me.
“Where were you, all this time?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Don’t ask questions,” she said. “It’s not worthwhile. There’s no time for all the answers. Let’s just sit and enjoy what we have, right now.”
“Where are we?” I asked. “I’ve never been here before.”
“No one is, until they are,” she said. “I had never been here before either. Now I come here all the time.”
“I can see why.” I looked out over the water. It seemed like I could see for miles.
“Mom’s just down there,” she said. She stretched out her arm, pointing to the sand. I shaded my eyes against the sun, and sure enough, there was our mother. She was here, too.
“How?” I asked.
She shrugged. “She’s always been here. She was here when I first came.” I marveled at this. On some level, I knew it was a dream. It had to be, if Mom was there. If this was so, I wanted never to wake up. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so happy, so totally at peace with myself and the world.
“I don’t ever want to leave you,” I said. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“You didn’t need to miss me. I was never very far away.”
“Where did you go?”
“Let’s not talk about that now. There are so many things to enjoy. Why do you want to keep talking about things that don’t matter anymore?”
“They don’t?”
“No. All that matters is what’s happening here and now. Isn’t it beautiful here?” Sara asked. I looked over, saw her radiant smile, and smiled in return.
“It is,” I agreed. “It’s like heaven.”
She nodded slowly, her smile widening. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
The sound of ringing ripped my eyes open. What was that noise? After two more rings, I realized it was the phone.
What time was it? It had to be the middle of the night, the sky still dark outside the window. My phone had been ringing. I must have left it downstairs.
I loo
ked over to where Cole still softly snored. He slept like the dead.
The dead. What had I been dreaming about? Sara. Had we been…in heaven?
I heard ringing, again. This time I felt compelled to get out of bed to see who was calling. At this time of night, it had to be important. I slid into my robe and tiptoed downstairs.
Where was my phone? We’d both been a little hasty when taking off our clothes. I blushed when I remembered what we’d done on the kitchen table. I would have to pull out the disinfecting wipes in the morning.
I thought I’d left my phone in my jacket pocket, so I went to the coat rack. It was there, but when I checked it, I saw that I had no missed calls. It must have been Cole’s phone that rang, then.
Sara. There she was, with me, in the picture from Christmas. Smiling up at me as my phone’s wallpaper. I felt a twinge of guilt in my chest. I was betraying her by sleeping with Cole. I knew it, and I felt awful about it. What would she think if she knew the man who was protecting her killer was sleeping in my bed at this minute? I touched my finger to the image, my dream coming back to me in little fragments. Had we both been dead? Was that what she’d been trying to tell me? My subconscious was working overtime lately.
Then, a buzzing noise. It was coming from the floor in front of the sofa. Cole’s jeans. I thought I would take the phone to him, let him know someone was desperately trying to get in touch with him. I found the phone in the back pocket and pulled it out.
The screen was lit up with a list of missed calls and messages. I didn’t mean to look, I truly didn’t, but it was all right there. I didn’t even need to open an app to see that a person named Skull had been trying to get a hold of Cole.
Skull. The name sounded familiar. I remembered Sara mentioning a person with that name—it stuck out because it was so unusual. Who named their kid Skull? Or if it was a nickname, who chose that?
Was Skull her boyfriend?
The last message, the one which had just come through when I was downstairs, made my blood run cold. I need to talk to you about Sara. Come to my house when you get this.
Chapter 16
Cole
I was dreaming. It was one of those dreams you knew was a dream.
I was living in my old house, the one we lived in when I was a kid. Only I was an adult now, the same age I was in real life. There I was, laying on the mattress in the corner of the room, flipping through a comic book. It was one of the few things I was able to hold onto after my parents sold off the rest of my toys and other things. I used to hide it in a slit in the mattress. I’d read through it so many times, the pages were almost falling out.
I heard laughter downstairs, and music. I knew my parents were having a party. I was never allowed to go downstairs if there was a party happening. I didn’t even like leaving my room to go to the bathroom. One time when I did, I ran into a scary man in the hallway. His face was all covered in sores. From that time on, I kept a bottle in my room in case I had to pee.
They were cheering downstairs. I wondered why. And I had to go to the bathroom, really bad. I looked around the room but didn’t see a bottle anywhere. What was I supposed to do? I had to leave the room and rush to the bathroom.
I opened the door, looking left and right to make sure there was nobody up there with me. Then I hurried into the bathroom and peed as fast as I could. I washed my hands, and when I looked up in the mirror, I saw myself. I was a grownup. Why was I still afraid of my parents and their friends?
I heard more noise from downstairs, and my curiosity was too much. I had to know what they were doing there. It wasn’t the usual talking and music. It sounded like animals were in the living room.
I tiptoed down the first few stairs, then looked through the railing. I could just see three men on their knees, with somebody in the middle. She was on her knees, too, with one hand on the floor. One of the men was behind her, one was in front, and one was off to the side. All three of them were doing things to her. The one behind was holding her hips, roughly humping her. The one in front held onto her head and shoved his dick into her mouth. The third was playing with her tits while she jerked him off—then she moved her mouth to his dick and stroked the other one.
There were other people sitting around. Some were watching, some were passed out. My dad was one of the passed out people, curled up in a ball on the floor. I wanted to wake him up and tell him to stop those men. How could he let this happen to his wife? She was being fucked by other men while he was too high to care.
Then the man behind her finished, groaning painfully when he did. As soon as he slid out, one of the two in front moved around to take his place.
“Roll over, bitch,” he muttered, and he slapped her ass. She did what he said, and when she rolled onto her back, I saw it wasn’t my mom this time. It was Alena.
My eyes flew open. I was sweating and my heart was pounding. That sick image stuck in my head. Alena, being used like that in the middle of a drug den.
Was that who I was afraid she would become if she hooked up with me? No, it couldn’t be. I was just mixing her up with my mom since I told her the story earlier about how I saw almost the same thing happening when I was a kid. I would never let anything like that happen to her. She was too good a person to go down that road. Maybe my parents were good people at one time. I wouldn’t know.
I took one deep breath, then another, forcing my heart to stop pounding the way it was. I had to get control of myself. I didn’t want her to wake up and worry.
Then I realized I was in bed alone. I rolled over, trying to get comfortable again. As soon as she was back and I could touch her, everything would be okay.
A voice in my head laughed. Who the hell are you? I heard it just as clear as I would have if another person said it to me not three feet from the bed. Who the hell was I? I didn’t know anymore. This wasn’t the Cole Sutton who had notches in his bedpost for every woman he ever fucked. This wasn’t the Cole who would practically be out the door after he came, or who’d be shoving the girl out the door if we were at my place. This wasn’t like me at all. Here I was, wanting Alena to come back to bed so I’d feel safe. If I didn’t know myself, I’d hate me for being so whipped.
Hadn’t I already learned my lesson from my parents? Love was a joke. The only thing it got you was pain. When you loved a person, they had power over you and could do whatever they wanted to hurt you. I didn’t want to leave myself open to that again. Right? Wasn’t that what I always told myself? But here I was. I walked right into it.
No, I didn’t love her. It wasn’t close to that. But I did need her, and that was scarier. Just the way I wanted her to come back to bed showed me how much I needed her. Damn it. I got too close to her. She was eating at my mind all the time, ever since that first minute I laid eyes on her at the bar. She wormed her way inside like a disease and grew when I wasn’t paying attention. Now I was in her bed, in the middle of the night. Sucker.
A lot of time passed, and she still didn’t come back. Now I was worried. Had someone come while I was sleeping? I shot out of bed and down the stairs.
When I saw her sitting on the sofa, I breathed a sigh of relief. “Shit. You had me scared for a second.” I laughed. “What are you doing up? Come back to bed.”
She didn’t move a muscle. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. Something had happened while I was sleeping.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, wishing she would at least look at me. When she did, her eyes were like marbles. Cold and hard.
“Who is Skull?” she asked. “Tell me the truth.”
“He’s my vice president,” I said.
“I don’t care who he is to your club,” she spat. “And you know it. I mean, who is he to you?”
“Why do you wanna know? Why does this matter right now? What’s Skull got to do with us at this time of the night?” I was stalling, trying to come up with something to say. Why did she want to talk about Skull? What had he done?
“Didn’t you hear your ph
one ringing?” she asked, and she held it up from where it had sat on her lap. I hadn’t noticed it.
“No. I’m sorry it woke you.” I held my hand out, wanting the phone back. She didn’t hand it over.
“I’m going to ask you again. Who is Skull? And why does he want to talk to you about Sara?” She threw the phone at me. I caught it only as a reflex. I was too shocked to think straight.
“What are you talking about?”
“Check your messages.”
“You were going through them?” But all I had to do was touch the screen and see the most recent calls and messages listed there. She didn’t need to break into my phone. Skull had texted me a half hour earlier, wanting to talk about Sara.
“How did he know Sara?” she asked. “Was he her boyfriend, or whatever it is you people call it? Her old man, maybe?”