Broken: Boxed Set

by Wilde, Leah

  He let the tip of his tongue sneak out and trace intricate patterns along the edge of my panties, teasing me with his flickering touch. I wove my fingers in his hair and held on tightly as he worked closer and closer to my hot slit. Every cell in my body wanted him to touch me. He hadn’t even taken off my underwear and I was already shivering close to the brink of coming.

  He slowed down suddenly. The frenetic tempo of his clawing, biting, sucking force calmed to a crawl. Now, his fingers were delicate instead of probing as he hooked them around either side of my panties and drew them carefully down my legs and off of me.

  He rocked back onto his heels once more and took his hands away as he gazed at me. Old Paris would have thought this was insane. I was lying naked on a riverbank in the middle of nowhere while a grizzled, tattooed biker looked me up and down like he wanted to devour me whole. Old Paris would have said something embarrassing about having to go before sprinting to the nearest police station, or panicked and made an excuse before scampering away.

  But I wasn’t the girl I used to be. I wasn’t going to run. I didn’t want to. This was the only place I wanted to be: right here, with Micah, knowing I was every bit as safe and free as he told me I was. Knowing that I could run if I wanted to, but that I’d rather wait in wild anticipation for his tongue to lick me upwards and upwards until I burst and moaned his name.

  “Do you want me?” I whispered.

  His eyes shifted from my body to my face. “Like a dying man wants a second chance.”

  He kept his gaze locked on mine as he unfolded forward. His mouth found my pussy and the first broad, slow lick of his tongue over my swollen lips was pure ecstasy. The second was magic. The third broke me.

  I felt the first geyser erupt deep in my core. It poured out through my throat, becoming Micah’s name as I moaned it into the treetops for the birds to hear or whoever else wanted to know the identity of the man who was doing this to me.

  He switched from the long, wide passes of his tongue to darting circles that flicked around my clit, at the same time that he reached up a finger and slid it teasingly just a little bit into my tunnel. I was so tight—it had been so long—that I had to bite my lip at first to stop from whimpering. But I quickly warmed to his touch as he twisted it easily at my entrance. I grew wetter and wetter as he licked around my clit and pushed his finger a tiny bit farther every few seconds. Soon, he was far in me, and he turned his finger around to stroke at my g-spot. As he did, he sucked my clit between his lips and rolled around it with his tongue, adding pressure and moisture to the motion with each passing rotation.

  I gripped his head tightly as he sped up, fingering and eating me out with increasing intensity. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I had to wrench them closed and focus on the burgeoning pressure beneath his touch. He knew exactly what he was doing as he brought me right up to my second climax and shoved me out into it. I fell, tumbling head over heels into the sensation breaking out over my body like lancing electricity.

  He didn’t wait for me to settle back down either. Instead, he pushed his own jeans down his hips and took out his manhood. It hung heavy in front of him, but as he lined himself up with my entrance, it grew stiffer and stiffer, until he was pointed like a sword at me and the head of his cock was rubbing back and forth on my clit, dipping into my juices. The friction was mind-numbing.

  I felt exactly how I’d felt the first night we spent together—hollow, empty, needy. The answer to all of it was pushing between my lips, waiting for me to say yes before it could fill me. Before he could.

  I forced my eyes open as the orgasm Micah had given me continued to flare like fireworks up and down my body. My lower lip was scraped raw from biting it so hard. It was all I could do to nod desperately as he raised his eyebrows at me in search of a sign to keep going.

  “I want you, Micah,” I whimpered.

  He responded by pushing all the way into me. I gasped. It was even fuller than I remembered, thicker and harder. He went slowly, but I still had to dig my nails into the turf on either side and clench my knees hard around Micah’s waist. When he had driven deep and our hips were almost touching, he bent over and smashed his mouth against mine.

  I pulled his head close and hung on for dear life as he began to pump slowly in and out of me. Each stroke took minutes, hours, centuries, but it was pleasure all the way up and all the way down. When he was buried fully, I moaned, and when he was almost gone, I moaned. My arms were getting sore from holding onto him so tightly, but it was the only way I could ride out the waves of sensation rippling outward from where he was piercing me.

  He broke off the kiss, but he didn’t go far. He kept his forehead pressed against mine and his eyes boring into me as he began to increase the speed of our rocking. Faster and faster we went, building and building, getting higher together, until sweat slicked both of our brows even though the air around us was damp and cool. It didn’t matter—there was fire just below our skin.

  “Micah…” I cried.

  “Paris,” he responded. His face was screwed tight in concentration as he slaved to keep himself from going over the edge. But I wanted him to. I wanted to feel him explode inside me and I wanted to see how his face looked when he came while we held each other.

  “Come for me,” I begged. “Please.”

  His hips slammed against mine like a hammer descending over and over again. His cock was stiff and strong, and finally, he was there. One more stroke and I felt him unleash. Deep in my pussy, he erupted, filling me. I held him tightly until his motion slowed and eventually stopped.

  Micah’s eyes were closed as he regained his breath. When it had normalized, he opened them again and looked at me. “The future,” he said, chuckling. “Who falls for something like that?” He grinned.

  I nipped at his ear. “You’re an asshole,” I whispered jokingly.

  Those eyes glistened with more emotion than I knew how to understand. “Yours, though.”

  The most beautiful words I’d ever heard.

  # # #

  We lay on the bank for a while until the water had dried from our bodies. Then, reluctantly, I let Micah help me wriggle back into my wet jeans. I picked up the ragged remains of my shirt and examined it.

  “Thanks a lot,” I said sarcastically.

  “Hey, that’s a very fashion-forward look,” he shot back.

  I glared at him. “Yeah, because you know so much about fashion.”

  “I was voted most fashionable in high school, thank you very much.”

  “No way.”

  “Okay, so I wasn’t. But I could’ve been.”

  “Did you even go to high school?”

  “No, but you’re missing the point.” I smacked him on the shoulder and he laughed. “Here,” he said, “take mine.” I eyed the shirt suspiciously, but I decided that it would be better than nothing. I pulled it over my head. It wouldn’t be so bad to follow Micah and stare at his back muscles.

  Once we were dressed, we headed out of the enclave. The boulder was easier to climb going in the other direction, although Micah still kept a close eye on me as I swung over and dropped down. The bike was still waiting where we’d left it. The sun had dipped below the horizon and the last of its rays were close behind. It would be dark soon. The warmth of the day had started to disappear as well.

  Micah was checking something on the bike when I heard footsteps approaching from around the bend. A few moments later, two people emerged, a man and a woman. They were both wearing big camping backpacks and chatting freely. My jaw dropped when I realized who it was.

  Craig stopped a few yards away from me. His eyes went round. He looked back and forth between Micah and me, trying to figure out just what in the hell I was doing in the middle of this huge state park wearing a man’s t-shirt while accompanied by a shirtless, tattooed biker.

  “Uh, um, Paris, good to…see you again,” he stuttered eventually.

  “Hi, Craig,” I said.

  “Whatcha, um, whatcha been
up to?” he asked, shifting around on his feet like he couldn’t decide what to do with himself. I could tell that he was baffled. I couldn’t blame him. If I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t exactly have expected this to be our second encounter either. I didn’t really know how to go about explaining the situation.

  “Just, you know, exploring, I guess you could say.” I was blushing a little bit, but Craig was the color of a stop sign. Next to him, his companion was doing the same thing he was, glancing back and forth to try and make sense of this bizarre twosome, although she was doing a better job at not gawking like a fool. “You?”

  “There’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight, so we’re, um, going camping. Oh, shit,” he said, smacking the heel of his hand into his forehead, “I’m sorry. This is Nina. Nina, this is Paris.” The girl was cute and seemed friendly. She stuck out a hand and smiled as we shook.

  “Nice to meet you, Paris,” she said brightly.

  “You, too, Nina.” I felt Micah walk over behind me. “This is Micah,” I said. “Micah, meet Craig and Nina.”

  Micah and Craig clasped hands firmly, nodding to each other in that overly stoic, masculine way that men always seemed to love doing. Underneath, though, I could tell that Craig was downright terrified of Micah. I couldn’t blame him for that either. Micah didn’t exactly come off as the friendliest of guys on first impression.

  “How do you two know each other?” Craig asked. He sounded polite enough.

  “We’re married,” Micah responded flatly.

  Craig went from red to white in an instant. The little bit of poise he’d managed to collect prior to Micah’s sudden bombshell of a statement went whistling away with the wind. I almost wanted to laugh. This was the smooth, handsome guy who’d had me feeling like I was tripping all over my tongue at the park? God, that was just a few months ago. It hadn’t been that long, not really. So why did he seem like a child when he stood across from Micah? How could these two men even be the same species? Micah was calm and composed, while Craig spluttered, trying to find something reasonable to say.

  “That’s, uh…wow. Lovely. Great. Um, awesome, I’m really happy for you, Paris. Wish I’d gotten that date when I had the chance, heh.” As soon as the awkward joke came bumbling out of his mouth, he looked like he immediately regretted it. Micah didn’t move, but a single muscle twitched in his face. It was enough to turn Craig into quivering putty.

  Nina was looking around at all of us in turn. She looked lost, and why wouldn’t she be? Heck, I was lost, and I was the only thing these men had in common. Aside from me, Craig and Micah were as opposite as two people could be. Craig was smooth, lean, clean-shaven, whereas Micah was this hulking, scarred, tattooed mess of a man.

  A few months ago, I would have looked at him like he was from another planet. I wasn’t altogether sure that he wasn’t. The difference was that now I knew it was a place I wanted to immerse myself in. I blushed deeper; my body was still ringing with the sensation of Micah burying himself inside me. It felt almost wrong to be standing around and chit-chatting with this youthful boy when just a few minutes earlier I had been in the midst of being filled with a real man.

  Craig forced a dry swallow down his throat. “We should get going,” he blurted suddenly. “Gotta set up camp, and uh, firewood, you know, for the, um, fire…” he trailed off without finishing his sentence.

  Micah nodded. “Good to meet you, Craig,” he said coolly.

  “Likewise. And, Paris, maybe see you…? Never mind. Have a good night!” He scurried off immediately, dragging Nina behind him. They disappeared in the direction of the hiking trail that, according to a nearby sign, picked up just a little bit farther into the foothills.

  Micah turned and looked at me. “Friend of yours?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

  I couldn’t read his face. Was he angry? Disappointed? There was no way he could possibly be jealous, right? That wouldn’t make any sense. Or would it? I didn’t know. Like always, he was a mystery to me until he chose not to be. “Not really,” I said, my voice low. “We just met once. He, uh, asked me out. But nothing ever happened.” I added, “I swear,” for reasons I couldn’t fathom.

  “Hmm.” Before I could figure out how to ask him what he was thinking, he turned and walked back to the motorcycle. “Coming?” he asked. I hurried over and climbed on behind him.

  He didn’t say a word the whole way home. I clung to his shirtless torso as we ripped down the highway way faster than we had on the way here. He seemed to be driving angrily, or maybe I was just projecting my worries onto him. I felt like I’d ruined the moment by bumping into Craig and not handling the awkward situation that had ensued. Micah and I had felt so close lying together in sunny silence on the river bank. But now it felt like his walls were drawn up again, like he’d retreated from me just when I thought he’d finally begun to relax.

  He didn’t say anything as we parked outside the apartment, as we climbed the stairs, or as he unlocked the front door and let me walk inside ahead of him. I was too scared of what he might say to probe just yet. I needed time to think it over, so I didn’t dare turn back around and ask him anything.

  But just as I was about to walk into the bedroom to take a shower, he spoke up. “Paris,” he said in a low voice.

  I froze. Slowly, I pivoted on my heel to face him. He stood a few yards away, just inside the doorway, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest as he stared straight at me.

  “Yes, Micah?” I said hesitantly. I couldn’t hold his eye contact. My gaze kept darting between him and the floor. He was smoldering—not quite angry, but he was hot with some emotion I was struggling to identify.

  “Who was that son of a bitch?”

  “He was no one, Micah. I swear. It was just like I said. He came up to me at the park one day and asked if I wanted to get dinner with him. But my dad never let me go. That was the end of it. We haven’t talked since.”

  He growled something I couldn’t hear.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I said, I didn’t like him.”

  I bit my nails as I looked up at him fearfully. He straightened up, unfolded his arms, and cracked his neck on either side. Then he took another step in my direction. I surprised myself when I cowered instinctively against the doorframe that led to the bedroom. What the hell? Was I afraid he’d hit me or something? He’d never even come close to threatening me or making me think that before. But the way he’d responded to Craig was a whole new side of Micah, one I’d never seen in all our time together. Maybe it had been lurking below the surface the whole time, just waiting for the right stimulus to come out.

  I swallowed. It hadn’t really been that long, had it? Just a few weeks together, and before that, there was only the one night. He’d been nothing but courteous that whole time, if distant. But against that first-hand experience, I had a whole lifetime of hearing stories about the Lethal Darkness and the awful things they had been known to do to girls, at least according to the rumor mill. Beatings, threats, all kinds of ugly bits of half-heard gossip. A man like Micah was probably capable of doing lots of things I didn’t want to think about. There was every likelihood that this was one of them. Stick a toe out of line and watched it get smashed. Was that his style?

  I was surging with the desperate desire to run away and hide. My skin was crawling with anxiety and fear; my mouth felt dry and sticky. I forced myself to stop chewing my nails and instead to clasp my hands in front of me obediently. Maybe, if I acted apologetic—even though I’d truly done nothing wrong—he wouldn’t hurt me too badly.

  He stopped when he was right in front of me and spread his feet wide. I was quivering from head to toe. This was it; the punch was coming. Everything up until now had been just a honeymoon period, a brief oasis in time before the hitting started. The future looked bleak from this moment forward. It looked painful.

  Micah raised a hand towards me. I closed my eyes, waiting for the strike to land.

  But instead, h
e cupped my chin softly. His fingers were more delicate than I ever could have imagined.

  “Open your eyes, Paris.”

  I forced them open, trembling.

  “There’s something you should know about me,” he growled. “I’m a jealous son of a bitch. I don’t share. Never have. I don’t play nice with others. When I want something, I want it all to myself, now and forever. And you…you’re like nothing else I’ve ever had before. With you, the need to have everything is more intense. It’s clawing at me. I don’t just want you now. I want you from years ago. I want your whole life. Do you understand me? I want you to belong to me so completely that it’s like you’ve always been mine. The thought of another man even looking at you makes my skin crawl. I’m a flawed man, and this is one of my deepest, but it is what it is.”

  He paused to look deeply into my eyes before continuing. “The thing is, I can’t and won’t force you to accept those terms. I meant it when I told you that I’m not your prison guard. Your old man may have taken away your choices, but I’m not him and I won’t do that. So you need to decide right now. You can stay here, with me, on my terms. Or you can walk out the door and go anywhere you like. It’s your call.”