by K. L. Savage
The water is nice and hot. Steam dances above the surface, and our skin is turning red from the temperature. Poodle doesn’t seem too concerned about getting his wounds wet; as a matter of fact, he doesn’t seem too worried about them at all. It worries me that he’s so okay with violence and pain. Being harmed shouldn’t be an everyday thing or something expected. The chunks ripped from his chest are an act of pure control and rage.
And yet, Poodle thinks he deserves it.
He acts as though it didn’t happen, that they’re just scratches, and he’s ready to move on to another day.
“What are you thinking about so hard?” he asks, bringing the warm loofah to my neck, and then he squeezes the water out of it so it rolls down my back. It’s sensual way the water flows down my body and how Poodle manipulates it to make sure it hits every contour of my spine.
I hum and close my eyes, enjoying every time he releases the water onto my chest, and I sink further into his embrace. “Just thinking about how good this feels.”
“Being with you does feel good,” he says.
“I meant the water. It’s perfect.”
“Brat.” He squeezes the loofah over my face, and I sputter, laughing as I wipe the water out of my eyes.
“I’m kidding. Of course this feels good; it’s with you, Poodle.”
“Don’t call me Poodle while I’m naked. Makes me feel…I don’t know…fluffy.”
“You’re anything but fluffy,” I mumble under my breath.
“What did you say?” He pinches my side, and my back arches to get away from him, and a gallon of water rolls over the edge of the tub like a tsunami. “Did you say I was fluffy? I am not fluffy.” He starts tickling me and I scream, kicking and crying out at the top of my lungs.
“No! No, I said you weren’t. Meaning you are anything but fluffy,” I say through uncontrollable laughter. I can’t breathe. Oh, my God, I can’t breathe. “Uncle. James! Okay, I’ll call you James.”
“And that I’m the sexiest man alive that you’ve ever seen.”
“Seriously?”
He lifts his fingers out of the water, wiggling them as a threat. “Tickle you until you pee serious.”
“You’re the sexiest man alive I’ve ever seen,” I mock and roll my eyes at his ridiculousness, but I refuse to tell him that he is actually the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Why does that feel so dishonest? That hurts.” He pouts, dropping his hand in the water to create a small splash.
“Have you never seen Jason Momoa?” I toss back at him, and that wasn’t the right thing to say. His hand plunges under the water, his finger finds the spot between my ribs, and he tickles me again. “Poodle! I mean, James!” I’m howling with laughter, and my stomach starts to cramp.
“I have better hair than him. Say it!”
“James!” Tears leak from the corner of my eyes, but it isn’t from sadness. My mouth dips below the water, and a rush of it flows down the wrong side of my throat. I choke, the soap bitter on my tongue, and the water is lodged in my throat.
“Shit, Melissa. Are you okay?” He hits the middle of my back0[ to help me expel the water.
I cough, my throat is raw, and I sound like I’m about to croak.
“Jesus, I’m so sorry, sunflower. I never thought that would happen. I should have thought about it. You’re okay? Can you breathe?” He spins me around until I’m straddling his lap, and my breasts push against his chest. He isn’t even looking at them. Poodle’s eyes are on my face, and his hands are as light as a feather on my cheeks. “Please, talk to me. Jesus, I can’t lose you too. I can’t.”
“James—" I manage to say through the spasm in my throat.
“I can’t. I can’t lose you too.” He’s frantic, placing two fingers over my pulse point of my throat, laying his palm over my heart to feel it beat. Even though he can see I’m alive, he lets out a relieved breath when he feels the steady thump of my heart against his hand. “Thank God, thank God,” he chants, pressing his lips against my forehead. He pulls me tight against him until his racing heart pounds against mine.
“James, I’m okay. It was just a bit of water. I’m fine.” I rub my hands up and down his chest, and that’s when I see the bandages aren’t just red, they’re saturated. Blood drips into the water, swirling like tendrils of ink. “Oh my God, you’re bleeding again.”
“I don’t care,” he says. “I don’t care about any of it. I thought…”
“It’s going to take more than a mouthful of water to kill me, James. You don’t have to worry about that. Now, come on. Let’s get you down to Doc. You’ve opened your stitches.”
“I don’t care,” he repeats like a broken record. He tightens his arms around me until it’s hard for me to breathe.
“If you want me to live to see another day, you’ll loosen that grip, buddy,” I say, struggling to breathe.
“I’m just fucking everything up. I knew it. I knew I shouldn’t have touched you. Everything I touch, I ruin. Everything.” He places his hands on either side of the tub and lifts up, water gliding down his chest like a rushing river. I slide off his body, and my butt hits the bottom of the tub. I barely have time to see his naked body before he wraps an old tattered towel around his waist. “You’re better off just staying away from me, okay? Just stay the hell away from me.”
“No! You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to push me away because one accident happens, Poodle.” I rip the other towel off the silver bar against the wall. l and circle the scratchy material around me and tuck the edge by my breast. “I choked down some water, Poodle. I can do the same sipping a damn Coke. You can’t get afraid every time something minor happens.”
“Of course I can!” he yells at me. His eyes bore into mine, and that’s when I see the fear swimming behind those beautiful green eyes. He slams his fist against his chest, and his lips turn downward. “Of course, I can! Are you kidding? I held her, Melissa. I held Holly’s dead body, soaked myself in her blood; of course the most minor thing is going to scare me when it comes to you.”
“Why? It’s life, Poodle! Tripping over your own two feet, choking on water, getting a paper cut; those are all normal things. I wouldn’t have died in that tub until you personally held me down and drowned me.”
“I never would have done that.” He closes the space between us and kisses all over my face. “I’ll save you every time, even if it means risking my life.”
Blood drips in thick lines down each bandage, and I press a kiss in the middle of his sternum. It’s nearly dry from the bath water, yet salty with sweat. “I know you would have, Poodle. I thought … I thought for so long you hated me—”
“Hated you?” He tilts my chin up with his index finger, the ends of his hair are wet and stick to his shoulder. “I didn’t hate you. I’m fighting a lot of things for you, but it isn’t hate, Melissa. What I feel for you, I haven’t felt since Holly. It shakes my core, messes me up, makes me rethink what I had planned in life. Hate you? I could never hate you.”
“I understand now.” I think about all of the times we were near one another, and how he always avoided touching me at all costs; even staring at me for too long, he always got frazzled. My insecurity led to me to think he hated me, but the confidence in me realizes he wanted me and felt like he wasn’t allowed to want someone; not after what happened to him.
I reach for the edge of the towel that’s tucked around my body and yank it free, watching in delight as his eyes fall from my face to stare at my breasts.
“What are you doing?” he husks, his voice marinated with uncontrollable desire.
I lift the towel and clean the blood off his skin. “Cleaning up the blood. We need to get these changed so your wounds don’t get infected.”
“I don’t care about those right now. How about a do-over?” His palms slide around the flare of my hips and squeeze my ass.
“A do-over?” I say slowly and pat the area around each wet bandage. “How so?” My voice lowers to
a teasing, sultry flirtation.
He spins me around, and with a delicate push I fall onto the bed. I stare up at him with the best sex eyes I can manage as my lips form an O.
“Oh, is right. A do-over. You see now?”
I nod, biting my lip, and I rub my thighs together when he grabs his cock. It’s firm, tenting the towel with the impressive girth. The helmet of the bulbous plum tip indents the towel with a thick ridge.
He tugs the towel off his waist, and I suck in a breath. It’s the first time I’ve seen him naked and my god, it’s glorious. He’s kissed by the sun to give him that perfect glow. His round muscles, the trunks of his thighs, the long, hard cock curving over his belly button, the weighted sack hanging between his legs, and the cocky smirk tugging his lips, is a picture I have never seen before.
Not with him, not with any man.
And it’s a moment I’m going to remember forever.
Poodle has everyone believing he’s made of snow, melting from anything that can bring harm, but he’s made of steel.
His hands wrap around my ankles, and he tugs my legs apart, baring my pussy to him. I gulp and block out all of the things that have happened in my life to only focus on Poodle. He slides his rough calloused hands up my thighs, and a low rumbling reverberates off his chest when the pressure of his fingers cause my skin to turn a different shade of white. He settles above me, his hands on either side of my head, and lowers himself down on his elbows.
And there it is again, the intense stare. My body comes alive as the energy builds, the heat and want. I drag my nails up his abs, and his stomach tightens from the touch. Poodle presses his lips against mine, delicate and soft. He cups my heavy mounds and groans. “I fucking love these tits.” He breaks the kiss and sucks each nipple into his mouth. “I want to fuck them.”
My eyes roll back from the thought. I’ve never had a man do that to me. “Do it.”
He growls, biting the right bead too hard, and I cry out from the pain, wanting more of the sting. “No, you deserve more than to be treated like that,” he says, pushing my breasts together, and then he shoves his face in between them, inhaling as he practically suffocates. “Fuck!” He rears his head back, and his nostrils flare. He reminds me of a man who just did a line of cocaine off my chest, high and fucked up, only there is no drug here.
He really just loves my tits that much.
“I … I trust you, James. I want you to do it.” I watch as his eyes shift from angel to demon. They’re dark, and imposing as he crawls up my body, and I know I’m at his mercy. I don’t like being at a man’s mercy. It’s terrifying, the things they can do knowing you’re weaker. It’s a horror show.
I don’t have that feeling with James. I’m at his mercy, but he’ll never hurt me.
Not unless I want him to.
He fists his cock, stroking all those inches as he hovers over me. “Push your big fucking tits together, sunflower. I can’t wait to feel the soft skin against my cock. Look what you’re doing to me,” he says, swirling the tip around my nipples and soaking me with dollops of pre-cum. It’s sticky, and when he pulls away from me, the liquid stretches into a tight string before breaking and falling onto the top of my stomach. “You aren’t pushing your tits together.” He grips my chin and paints my lips with his cock. I gasp, flicking my tongue out to taste the salty treat he gives me.
I do as he says and push my tits together, and he sits on his haunches and slides between the tight valley I made for him. He groans with pleasure, and his muscle ripples as he shivers. I’m not sure how this feels good for him. It only heightens my arousal to see him so turned on. He rocks forward, then back, forward and back, and then his hand reaches behind his back and dips between my legs. He pinches my clit, and my mouth falls open, a guttural moan escaping me. I arch my back, forgetting to keep my hands on my tits.
He stops flicking the sensitive nerves between my legs, and I cry out in frustration. No one has ever paid attention to me like that before, and I never want it to stop.
“Push your tits together or I won’t make you come, sunflower. My pleasure brings you pleasure, and vise verse. Now, do us both a favor, and squeeze my dick with your tits.”
I whimper and do as he says, wanting nothing more than for him to make me come. The velvet glide of his skin against mine has a gush of hot lust
soaking his hand.
“Oh, you like this, don’t you?” he asks, using my nectar to rub his fingers between my folds. With every thrust between my breasts, his fingers push into my pussy.
I wait for panic.
The fear.
The memories when I feel him inside me.
None come.
I only want more of Poodle, more of James, more of the man I’m falling in love with day by day.
He has silenced the nightmares inside me, and my body is at peace.
The way his hips move makes me wish his cock was inside me.
“You feel so tight. So wet.” He pulls his fingers out of me, and I let my hands fall to my sides. He said my pleasure brings him pleasure, and if I’m not getting it, then I’m not going to give it. Poodle slides his fingers around his shaft and wets it with my slick. He reaches for my swollen clit again, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m warmed up from all the teasing, but I feel the low burn of my orgasm in my bones.
“Jam—” Right as his name leaves my mouth, the crown of his cock silences me by pushing between my lips for a split second before he rocks back.
I barely have enough time to recover before he’s pushing between my lips again. The curl of his hips are faster, and so are the pumps of his fingers. The wet sounds echo in the room from my desire leaking onto his fingers. My walls spasm, and his hips stutter.
“Damn it! I’m going to come all over you. Oh fuck!” he shouts into the room, and the first spurt lands on my chin. He pulls back slightly, and my orgasm takes over, convulsing my body into a magnitude of earthquakes. I almost buck him off me.
Almost.
Instead, he uses the opportunity of my open mouth and marks me there too. His creamy seed flows down my throat, and I whine, wanting more, but he releases the rest all over my tits. His eyes are focused, and an evil grin twists his lips, as if he’s satisfied with his workmanship.
He rubs his come into my skin and then shoves the same fingers he had inside me into my mouth, and I taste the sweetness of me and the salty cum of James.
If this is intense, I can’t imagine what sex will be like. I knew it would be like this, just from the stares we’ve shared over the last few months. The heat grew and grew, and it’s still growing. This barely releases the built-up sexual tension.
“Holy shit!” He flops down beside me and gasps for air. He turns my head and kisses me senseless. “Sunflower.”
I smile against his lips when I hear my endearment instead of Holly’s name. This is how it’s supposed to be.
He yelps and flies over me, sliding over my body because I’m slick with his come. “What’s wrong?”
“Lady! You do not put your nose there! No ma’am, bad girl. That’s not cool, Lady. Not fucking cool.”
Lady growls, then barks, lolloping her tongue out of the side of her mouth. She’s grinning.
A fit of giggles has me in tears. “Oh my God, I forgot she was here. Do you think she watched? I’m scarred for life.”
“You? You didn’t just have her nose sniff your—”
I throw myself at him, plastering my stickiness against his chest as I kiss him. “It’s like having a child. We’re going to have to have someone watch her when we want alone time. I can’t mess around with you again knowing she’s watching.”
“Great. My dog is a cock block.” He lays back against the bed and tosses his arm over his eyes. “Worst nightmare ever.”
“To be fair, she didn’t block while it was happening,” I say as I jump out of bed and clean myself off.
“I’m just going to dirty you again,” he says as he walks toward the door. I hide
behind the dresser so no one sees me. “Skirt!” he shouts. “Watch Lady and take her out for me.” Lady prances out the door, and Poodle slams it shut and locks it.
“Aye, I got it. Can ye two keep it down? I’m watchin’ my Scottish soaps me auntie sent me, and yer banging around and moanin’ is ruinin’ all the good scenes.”
I cover my mouth with my hands, mortified that he heard us.
“Yeah, sorry, Skirt. We, uh, we’ll keep it down.”
“Hey, Melly. If he sucks in the sack, come take a roll in the hay with a Scotsman. I’ll show ye how it’s done,” Skirt says on the other side of the door.
How does Skirt know I’m in here?
Poodle bangs his fist on the door. “Hey, fuck off.” Skirt’s loud laughter bounces off the walls, making me chuckle.
“Oh, that’s funny?” Poodle comes at me, and I have nowhere to go. He wraps his arms around me and throws me on the bed.
Exactly where I want to be.
16
POODLE
I wake up in the middle of the night with Melissa’s body wrapped around me. Her head is on my chest, and the tendrils of her hair act as a blanket on my arm. Crap, how long have we been asleep? I rub my eyes and lift onto my elbow to check to see if Lady is in her bed, and she is. She’s on her back, belly up, looking rounder than ever.
Which I’m still sour about, but I’m a little excited about the puppies.
Melissa turns over onto her side, and her bare back greets me. The sheet pools at her waist, and cold goose bumps pebbles her skin. I lift the blanket higher to cover her, so she stays warm. She’s so beautiful. Everything about her. Her mind, body, her spirit. I want to immerse myself in her. The more we give into one another, the farther I sink into her, the farther I pull away from Holly.
I finger the necklace around my neck and carefully slide out of bed, so I don’t wake her up. My feet hit the floor, and my hands grip the edge of the mattress. I peer down to the foot of the bed where the chest sits, and that familiar pressure in my heart starts to build, the agony, to exempt the weight holding me down. It’s violent one.