by Frankie Love
"It was, wasn't it? And you've only had the half of it."
She swallows. "Show me the other half, Maker, please."
"You don't have to beg because baby, that's exactly what I want." I ease my cock inside of her. Her hole so nice and tight, so damn juicy, so damn wet. "I don't want to hurt you," I tell her.
"It's okay. I'm stronger than I look, remember?"
"I know baby girl, but…" I groan as my thickness fills her up. And she bites her knuckles for a moment. "I can stop," I say.
She shakes her head. "No, just go deeper. It hurts, but it’s the good kind of hurt. You know what I mean?"
I gave her a soft smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, leaning over her, wondering how I got so damn lucky. I guess sometimes the good guy wins.
"Oh Maker," she moans as I fill her up entirely. My cock is rigid, rock hard. And her pussy is so sweet and tight, a channel I never want to leave. Her arms wrap around me. Her mouth kissing my neck. There's no space between us. Her tits are tight against my chest. And I hold onto her as if for dear life because I swear to God I don't want to let go.
We move together and she's loud. Letting me know just how good this feels. It makes me laugh. I love to hear her sounds as she experiences sex for the first time in her life.
"Oh Maker," she cries out, threading her fingers through my hair.
And I take her nice and slow; excruciatingly slow. I want to tease her to the edge and back again, and then I want to do it all over. I have a feeling she will too.
We move as one; her tightness and my cock, a goddamn melody. "Is that better now?" I ask her as I move in a way that I know will please her. Her G-spot, my only aim. I want to make her come again hard. Climax while she’s wrapped around me. She moans as she experiences the ride of her goddamn life.
"God, you feel good," I tell her, breathing deeply as I look into her eyes. Hers meet mine and they shine bright, tears glistening on the edge. "I don't want to make you cry."
"It's happy tears," she says, panting.
"I promise I'm so fucking close," I tell her.
She nods slowly. "I'm on fire," she says. "The best kind of heat. I feel… oh God," she moans again. Her come is seeping all around my cock and I finish as she does too, both of us groaning in pleasure as we hit the depths of our desire.
"Oh Maker," she moans.
"Oh God, oh God, this is it," I tell her. "This is everything." Her body goes limp in the most delightful way, and I roll off of her, laughing. "You spent all your energy up? I thought we were going all night."
She rolls over on her belly, kissing my chest. "Oh, I think that's what people call round one."
I grin. "Good baby, because I need you again, all of you."
Her hand finds my cock and she strokes me softly, fondling my tight balls. "Good," she says, "because I feel like there's a lot more to you that I plan to explore."
"Yeah, I’d like that," I say. “A lot.” Her belly rumbles and I grin. "But maybe we should have some dinner first?"
She nods. "That sounds good."
I get out of bed, my cock thick hanging between my legs, and I eye her as she licks her lips, memorizing me. "What do you think?" I ask, stroking myself, pumping my cock for her pleasure.
"I think I like what I see," she says. "You're so chiseled. You look like you were made out of rock. I can't believe you haven't lived in Alaska all your life."
"Yeah," I say, cocking an eye. "You think I'm a real bad ass mountain man?"
She laughs. "I think so."
"God, you look cute in my bed," I tell her.
She's on her knees now. And her tits are so damn perky, so damn round and full. I want to put my cock right between them and titty fuck her. I want my come to coat her chest. I want to kiss her hard as she gets off. I want her on her back, her knees spread wide, her fingers exploring her cunt. I want to jack off watching her tease her pretty little clit. And then I want her to suck my cock nice and good, deep throat my shaft, like the dirty girl she wants to be.
"What? It looks like you have something on your mind," she says joining me in the kitchen nook. She’s naked, her arms wrapping around me, her sweet tits pressed against my back.
“Ah, I was just thinking about fucking you again." I spin, looking at her.
Her cheeks go from pink to bright red. "Really?" she asks. "So it was good?"
I chuckle, loving her naivety. I pick her up by her hips and set her down on the counter. "Oh, Marley, it was more than good; it was goddamn perfect."
Marley
When we wake in the morning, sunlight filters through the circular window in the cabin of the boat. I roll over, and unlike yesterday morning, when I shrieked upon seeing Maker, this time I smile sleepily. He's looking at me, twirling the ends of my hair between his fingers, and I wonder if life could get any better than this.
He runs his hand over my body, my waist, my hips. He squeezes my ass and I laugh. "God, last night was perfection,” I tell him.
He nods slowly. "It was, Marley."
"Where do we go from here?" I ask.
He clenches his jaw, runs a hand over his beard, his eyes narrowed. "You mentioned your brothers."
I nod, not wanting to face reality. "Can we stay in the moment for a little bit longer?"
"Is it really that bad?" he asks.
I swallow thinking of Jett, Gavin, and Dylan. They have reputations, but their reputations are very different than Maker's. Where Maker is a dangerous criminal, my brothers, the River Boys, are known for being no-nonsense, upright, having moral standards that are almost impossible to meet. They're going to hate Maker.
“Why don't we just pretend for a little bit longer?" I tell him. He nods and I swear he's read my mind, like he knows what I'm thinking. That I'm scared that this slice of paradise won't last much longer.
"Come here," he says. "I'll play make believe if you want to."
I kiss him softly. "Thank you for last night, for being so good to me, for making me feel so incredible."
"You are incredible," he says.
It's only then I feel his cock, see the thickness, and my eyes widen. "Oh," I say.
He chuckles. "That's called morning wood," he tells me.
I bite my lip, embarrassed. I'm not completely naive, as to not know the way a human body works, but seeing it like this, nestled next to me, is something else. "Do you think since I'm leaving soon, going back home, we could play just a little bit longer?"
"What did you have in mind, baby?" he asks.
My heart thrills at the nickname. At first, I thought being called baby meant Maker thought I was little, not ready, but now I hear the affection in it, the tenderness, as he says it. Even if Maker has made a million mistakes, when he talks to me, touches me, I feel like he's trying to be good, better. I want to ask him the last time he has really messed up, if he is really as bad as Bellamy and Jemma and Wavy assume, but I don't want to break this spell. And those women, their husbands have all cleaned up their acts. I believe Maker can, too, that he already has. "Come here," he says, and I dip my mouth to his cock, stroking him softly, gently.
"Does that feel good?" I ask.
He groans. "Oh, God, baby. Feels so damn good."
I open my mouth, licking my lips, wanting to please him in some way after he's done so much pleasing all night. I begin to suck him and my whole body wakes up. My pussy is wet with want as I bob my head up and down. His cock is thick, hard, and it tastes so good. Salty, like a man. My man. I don't want to let him go. I suck him off and I feel him tense, and then he groans as his come fills my mouth, his seed down my throat. I swallow him up, nice and good, not wanting this to end, any of it.
"Maybe you can stay in Riverside with me," I tell him, crawling back up against him. He cradles me, kissing my head.
"I could do that," he says, "but there are some things I'd have to work out first."
"Things?" I ask.
He nods tightly. "Things."
"That's a little crypti
c," I say.
"I know, but Marley," he shakes his head. "I've had a good time."
I tense. "A good time?"
"Look," he says, "I don't want to get your hopes up. Things with me, hell, you know my reputation. And I have a feeling the moment we get back into Riverside, there'll be some people asking questions about what a girl like you is doing with a man like me."
"But I'm a grownup," I tell him. "I can make my own decisions."
"I know you can, baby, but I don't want you to rush into any decisions because we had one night of fun. I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything."
"I see," I say, putting the pieces together. There is no reason for me to think that there is going to be some future with Maker. He's not the kind of guy who settles down. Nothing about him is permanent, and I know that. I'm not going to put him in a box, because that's not where he belongs. He belongs on the mountain, roaming free, wild, a man on his own without a woman to tie him down, hold him back.
"Are you upset with me?" he asks.
I shake my head, no. "I feel like I understand you, Maker, maybe in ways you don't understand yourself. It's probably time to get back home," I tell him, kissing him on the cheek, and then I stand from the bed, wondering where my clothes are.
The sheets are rumpled. The snacks from last night, the empty bottle of wine, spread out on the counter. I smile. I had the most perfect night of my life and I'm not going to let Maker pushing me away ruin it. So I choose not to start a fight by insisting on something he doesn't want.
I'll let last night be enough, because God, it sure felt like everything.
Maker
When we get to Riverside, Marley tells me she lives within walking distance of the marina.
"I didn't realize you lived right in town," I say.
"Yeah, my brothers and I live in my parents' place, the place we grew up. My dad was a fisherman — that’s why we live right down by the docks."
When we get to her house, a modest two-story with grey weather-worn shingles, we wind around the front to the backyard. I see her hesitate for a moment before pushing open the back door.
It's still early, not even 10:00 in the morning, and her brothers are in the kitchen already, looking for a fight. They're nursing mugs of black coffee, anger in their eyes. "Where the hell were you?" one of them growls at her, not even looking at me. “You were supposed to be home yesterday.”
"Jett, don't start in on me," Marley says, defensive. "I mean it. I'm safe. I'm fine."
A brother with long hair shakes his head, seething. "Not good enough, Marley. Dammit," he shouts. "You were supposed to be back yesterday afternoon. We've all been worried sick. You go for one night to that wedding with people we hardly know, and then you're out for two days. What were you thinking?"
"Gavin, I'm a grown woman. I can go where I want when I want. I don't answer to you."
A brother with a shaved head laughs. "Who the hell do you think you are, Marley? Were you with this guy?" he asks, pointing to me. "Because so help me if he laid a hand on you."
"Stop it, Dylan,” Marley says, lifting her own hands in defense. "This is Maker. He came here to introduce himself to you. He's my friend. That's all. He gave me a ride home and we've been tired because we stayed up late at the wedding and we thought it would be safer to sleep on his boat."
"You stayed with him on his boat?" the tallest brother asks, the man she called Jett. “Please tell me you didn’t sleep with him.”
Her eyes give her away, the pink on her cheeks. Flustered, she pushes back but they already know everything. "I'm not doing this," she says. "I'm not your property, so I can go where I want, when I want."
The brothers lean in, having a silent conversation. "Sure. Marley, you can do what you want," Gavin says, “and we're not going to stop you because we're not fucking assholes. We know you're a grown ass woman and you can do whatever you think is best. But that doesn't mean we can't deal with this piece of shit for taking your innocence." He glares at me.
"You want to take this outside?" I ask.
Marley shakes her head. "Maker, no, we're not fighting. Come on. All four of you."
But I'm looking for a fight. They think that they can tell Marley where she can be or threaten her with beating me up? Not on my watch.
“Marley, I have this,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen. "You have this?" she snaps back. "No, you don't."
But it's too late. The brothers and I are already outside, three against one. Doesn't look so good.
"I'm telling you if you fucked my sister, there'll be hell to pay,” Jett shouts.
I scoff, cracking my knuckles. I've been in plenty of fights in my life. And usually I have Beam as my backup, but he's not here right now. But I'm not going to let them treat Marley like this. They may say she's not their property, but they're making it clear that she is.
Dylan pulls back his arm, about to throw a punch in my direction, but I grab him by the collar of his jacket and shove him back. "Don't you lay a hand on me.”
“Or what?" Jett asks.
"I could kick your asses." Even as I say it, I know my fighting days are done. I’d rather let them beat the snot out of me than walk away knowing I hurt the only family Marley has.
"Stop it," Marley shouts. "I mean it, you guys. Stop fighting."
These boys, the River Boys, don’t hear her though. They want to fuck with me. Gavin throws a punch, landing smack on my jaw. I hear my fucking teeth rattle and I'm filled with fury. He pulls back his hand again, ready to land another, but I catch it with one hand this time and pull him in with my other.
"What did you say to me? You think you can deal with me?" I ask.
Before I can finish him, Jett pushes me back, hard. His brother punches me across my cheekbone and I see stars. Blood drips from his knuckle and I punch him back, hard, in his gut. Not because I want to fight, but because I need this to end.
I kick Jett in the gut and while he’s catching his breath, Dylan punches me across the cheekbone and the other brother comes around behind me. I whip my head back, cracking the back of my skull into his nose at the same time as I bring a knee up, letting it meet Dylan’s chin as I pull his face down to meet the blow. Jett stands up straight again, murder in his eyes.
Fuck, it’s all gotten way out of hand. Marley is shouting the whole time and I know I’ve disappointed her. Fought back when I should have stood my ground. Will I ever fucking learn?
Soon enough, a neighbor is coming over and it's not someone asking for a cup of sugar. It's a goddamn sheriff, hand on his holster, anger in his eyes.
"The four of you stop it," he shouts. He’s an older man, but he looks Alaskan through and through. Grey beard, a gun on his hip, and leather boots on his feet.
I step back, lifting up my hands. Marley’s brothers do the same, but they're pissed. All four of us bloody and bruised. I'm going to have a goddamn shiner the size of a mountain on my eye, and my skull pounds. I'm sure these guys are feeling the same damn way.
"I'm telling you, get out of here," the sheriff shouts at me.
“Me? I didn't start this."
"Well, I'm finishing it," he tells me. "Marley, what are you doing with this man?"
Marley shakes her head. "God damn it, Price. Who do you think you are? I'm sick of the men in my life telling me what I can do."
"Do you know who he is?" Sheriff Price asks her. "This is Maker."
"I know who he is,” she tells him, crossing her arms.
But her brothers apparently don't quite understand who I am. “He's an ex-convict,” Price tells them. “He's a goddamn drug lord.”
“Like Father John?” Dylan asks.
“Who?” Jett’s eyes narrow.
“You remember him? Had that fucked up sex cult in the woods,” Gavin says.
“I had nothing to do with him,” I say, trying to defend myself.
“But you did flee California because you were a criminal,” the sheriff says, hatred for me in his eyes.<
br />
They grunt, understanding. "You’re still caught up in some shady shit, aren't you?" Gavin asks me.
"Not anymore,” I tell him. “I made a deal with the Feds and they’re off my back. I mean it. I'm a good man."
But Jett laughs. "A good man, huh? Who comes here after fucking our sister. Keeping her out all night, and then fighting us. Do you know who we are?"
I clench my jaw, refusing to say that they're the goddamn River Boys. Holier than thou. I won't give him the satisfaction. "Fuck you." I say, "Don't judge me. You don't even know me."
Tears streak Marley's cheeks. And I step toward her, but she shakes her head.
"No," she whispers. "It's too much. All of this, it's too much."
Sheriff Price looks at me. "You need to get the hell off this property and out of Riverside, you hear me?"
"I'm sorry, Maker," Marley says, shaking her head. "I didn't want it to end like this."
"Yeah," I say, wiping the blood from my mouth. "I didn't want it to end like this either, but I should have known it was all too good to be true." I give her one last look before walking away, my heart fucking hung out to dry. Tears burn my eyes, but I wipe them away before they can fall down my face. I won't let these assholes see me cry.
I walk back to the marina, to my boat. I board my boat and look out to the sea, knowing the trek back to the Whiskey Mountains is going to take me all damn day. Worst part is knowing there is nothing for me out in those woods. My property has nothing but a piece of shit cabin, empty land. There is no home waiting for me, I’ve built no life. I may have walked away from the criminal activity in Los Angeles, cleaned up, gotten sober — and I’m glad for that — but I miss having a reason to get up every day.
I want that again. Meaning. Purpose.
Marley.
But Marley deserves a man so much better than me. I hate myself for it. Truly hate myself for the first time in my life. I may have spent a year wandering these mountains, trying to make peace with the deeds I've done. I thought I'd finally laid my demons to rest, but I guess I didn't really do that because until right now, I didn't realize that my choices had cost me so damn much.