by Brooks, Anna
The tip of his hard cock with fluid pebbled at the slit peeks out from beneath the elastic waistband of the tight, white boxer briefs he’s sleeping in, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.
I should let him be and go to the kitchen to make breakfast or something, but my heart rate has kicked into overdrive, and I feel a flush spreading from between my thighs all the way up to my scalp. I feel like I need him in a way I’ve never experienced before, even when we were together. It’s visceral, and it’s so consuming I can barely breathe.
With how terrible things have been, I want something good. Want to feel something other than fear and anger and disappointment. I so badly want to just feel him.
I want him feel me.
I need to show him that I’m sorry for what I said. That I only was trying to protect myself because it’s all I’ve ever known. I’ve gotta be the one to fix what was broken because I was the one who broke it. I need to show him how much he means to me, no matter what terrible things I said to him in anger. I need to apologize for not giving him time to explain. I need to show him how much I love him taking care of me. I need to give him back something for all that he’s giving me, and the only thing that I can offer him right now is my body.
I want to give it to him, want him to take whatever he can from me, whatever he needs… whatever he wants.
Slowly, so slow, I slide my shorts down my legs, and even slower, I straddle him. Wetness drips down my shaky thighs from how much I want this man, how much I’ve craved him inside of me since day one.
How badly I’m ready to admit that I not only want him, but I need him.
I’m ready for more. For all of it. All of him… if he’ll have me.
With my eyes glued to his handsome face, and the glow from the hallway lamp casting the perfect shadow on his sleeping form, I slide my palm beneath his boxers and fist his thick girth.
His hips pulse up, forcing a pump into my hand. Just as he reaches for the body on top of his, and his eyes begin to flutter open, I align him with me, sink down on him, and a guttural groan rolls up his chest and through his lips.
Perfect.
My God, he’s perfect.
My world suspends for a moment before it explodes, bursts of light flash behind my lids, and I suck in a harsh breath at the realization that we’re absolutely perfect together.
“Oh my God.” I moan as I continue, inch by inch, my pussy walls clenching to take more, to take all of him. “God.” My body is reacting on instinct. Its primal urges are taking over, and it’s like I’m not even myself. His green eyes pop open, and I freeze. For the first time, I’m fearful I went too far and took him somewhere he didn’t want to go.
His fingers that are at my bare hips flex and release, then do it again. He does a curl up so he’s sitting, and it forces me down even more… deeper, eliciting a gasp from my throat. I never knew someone so big could fit all the way inside me.
But like everything else with him, it’s exactly how it should be.
He trails those fingers up my sides and stops at my breasts, then circles the hardened tips with the pads of his thumbs, and the sharp, tingling sensation travels at warp speed through my center. I quiver around him, and his jaw gets hard as I circle my hips. I force my gaze off his face and look down just in time to see him tear my shirt in half and watch as he feeds my nipple into his mouth and sucks.
My core spasms, and I grind into him, and when he switches sides, I can’t control that desperate mewl that escapes me as I push myself even farther onto him, into his mouth, wanting not even a centimeter between us… I want all of him inside me, and I want him to stay there forever. He pulls back and kisses between my breasts, then brings his hands to my face and tilts it down.
“Q, I…”
“Shh.” He runs his nose along mine. “I know.” His lips brush mine, and just the soft touch makes me want to cry tears of joy because he wants this, too. He wants me. “I know, Maddy,” he grunts and then nips at my lip. “Fuck, baby. Jesus Christ, that pussy…” His hips press up, and I actually whimper at how deep he is.
“You’re inside.”
“Yeah.” He grunts. “Fuck yeah, I’m inside.”
“All the way.”
He understands what I’m trying to tell him because his eyes soften, and he slides his lips over to my ear, gently kissing the lobe and then releasing a breath that tickles my heated skin. “All the way.” His teeth trail down the side of my neck, and in the process of him lying back down, his fingers ghost down the sides of my stomach and stop at the juncture of my thighs. His thumbs press against either side of my swollen clit, and my hips jerk.
“Q.” I moan.
Using the strength in the tips of his fingers to move me up and down, he grits his teeth. “You needed my cock inside you, and now you’ve got it.” He crosses his arms behind his head, and I marvel at the sheer beauty of him beneath me, and the power that I got him to this state without doing anything but sleeping beside him. “Take what you need, Maddy.”
“I wanna give you what you need.”
“You already have. You did… you do, sweetheart.”
“I need to give you more.”
He tips his chin to his chest to look at our connection, then lifts his head back up, and the flare of heat in his eyes is enough to undo me. “You wanna give me more, give me what I need?”
“Yes.”
“I need you to ride me; I need you to come, need you to milk my cock.” He licks his lips. “Maddy, baby, I need you to fuck me.”
So that’s exactly what I do. He watches me with fire in his eyes, and every time I slam into him so he’s impossibly deeper, the flames flicker. Burn brighter. His jaw is clenched tight, and the veins in his neck corded, his hands fisted so tight his knuckles are almost translucent. His body is like a playground, and I’m enjoying the hell out of climbing all over it. But more, I cherish the fact that I’m making him happy right now.
I ride him, slow and fast, soft and rough. He encourages every move, tells me how good I feel, how beautiful I am, how perfect, how close he is. I love every second. I love him.
My head falls forward, and he reaches up with one hand and grips my hair. It’s going to destroy me. Every climax that he seduced out of me was enough to make my eyes cross, but this one is going to render me blind with ecstasy. He holds my mouth to his while I cry my orgasm against his tongue. “Fuck. Too good… can’t wait, Maddy.” He murmurs the words against my lips, and then he holds me steady with his other hand while he empties himself inside me.
And I love it. Love feeling him as he comes down, the twitches, the wet from our orgasms trickling out. I love his vulnerability, giving me a glimpse of the man I thought he was… the man I so quickly fell in love with, the man I hoped he’d be. I see him. The real Q.
We take our time, although I could lay like this forever. For me to even catch my breath and get enough strength back to lift my head requires more effort than I thought it would. But when I do, I open my eyes to find his on me. They’ve lost the fire in them, and what he looks at me with, I don’t know. Not regret, God I hope not regret.
“Q…”
“You good, sweetheart?”
I smile. “Uh. Yeah. Are you?”
His brows flicker. “You’re honestly asking me that?”
“Well, I, uh… kind of didn’t ask you before I, you know…”
I feel his lips tilt against mine before he falls down to his back. “Before you climbed on my dick?”
I playfully slap him.
“Second best morning of my entire life,” he whispers against my lips.
“When was the first?”
He quickly flips us over so he’s on top, and I shriek, my hands going for his biceps so I have something to hold onto. “The best morning of my life? The first time I woke up with you in my arms. Christ, I looked down at you, and it almost hurt, knowing I wasn’t going to be able to keep you but wanting so desperately to find a way. I have a photographic memo
ry, and I burned your face into my brain so whenever I closed my eyes, I saw you.”
“Well, I don’t have a photographic memory, and I still saw you whenever I closed my eyes.”
“Smartass. It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” He kisses my nose. “I’m assuming by all of this, you’re trying to tell me something? I can guess, but I’d rather not. I wanna know exactly what’s going through your mind right now so I can do whatever I need to in order to make sure you keep looking at me like you are right now.”
I know I need to give him something, but I’m afraid to tell him everything that I’m feeling. It’s so powerful it scares me, and I’m fearful that if I told him, it’d be too much. “I’m sorry.” I start with. “I was so mad that I didn’t give you a chance to explain. I… I’ve spent my whole life protecting myself that it’s all I know. I missed you. I cried myself to sleep every night. I was so mad at myself for the things I said to you, but I was too stubborn to pick up my phone to call and tell you that. I was afraid you’d still be angry and not want me anymore, so to save myself that inevitable heartache, I masked it with hostility. And you’ve done so much for me, and I didn’t know how to tell you how much it means… how much you mean, so I…” I trail off and shrug, too shy to say the words.
An irresistible grin overtakes his features. “So you showed me.”
“Yeah.” I bite my lip, thankful he doesn’t embarrass me for being so… aggressive. I’ve never done anything like that in my life with any other man I was with, but with Q, I’m experiencing a lot of firsts.
“Well, I’m glad you did.”
His phone rings, and he curses under his breath. “I’ve gotta get that. Too much going on for me to miss a call.”
“Okay.”
He slants his head, presses his lips to mine, then pulls his head back and studies my face as he slides out of me. My lips part, and I breathe his name.
Q
My bones are jellified, but I manage to stay steady on my feet as I jog down the hall to get my phone from the coffee table where I left it last night. Brodie’s name flashes, and I grab my cell and answer. “Hey.”
“I have something for you.”
“Fuck.”
“Allen White turned up dead this morning.”
That’s information that I knew was coming. Quicker than I thought, but still not shocking. I’d say it’s tragic, too, but anyone who can beat on their kid like he did doesn’t deserve mercy. “That was fast.”
“Yeah, doesn’t look like he made it too far after we kicked him outta here yesterday. One to the head, so it was quick at least.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised.”
He chuckles. “No shit. Danny don’t fuck around.”
“Appreciate the info, but who the fucking fuck broke into her goddamned apartment?”
“Prime suspect is still one of Danny’s men until we get evidence of something else. We’re diggin’, Q. You know it’s network right now, so you’ve got every man here doing what they can.”
I do know that. And I appreciate it. Networks are when there’s an inevitable threat, a life-or-death situation that needs as many hands on it as possible. We normally don’t call one for something like this, but because she’s mine, everyone is all in without me even having to ask.
I hear her walking down the hall, so I cut the conversation short. “I’ll be visiting him later and will shoot you a text when I need you here so I can squash this shit with him.”
“For sure. Later.”
I hang up and turn around to find Madeline wearing one of my hoodies, the hem stopping mid-thigh. Her fingers toy with the hem. “I hope this is okay. I only grabbed a pair of pajamas and school clothes, and since I’m so tired I can barely walk straight, I just called in to work. I was hoping that I could maybe just stay here and sleep all day if that’s alright by you.” She goes over and sits on the couch where she crosses her legs, making my mouth water.
“Of course it’s fine. You can use anything of mine whenever you want, and you’re more than welcome to stay here fore—” I almost say forever but catch myself since that’s definitely too much too fast, especially with all that’s going on in her life. “For as long as you want, but for sure until I’m sure you’re safe.”
“You know who my mother is.”
She states the obvious and changes the subject abruptly. I go sit next to her because she clearly wants to talk about this and I know how hard it is for her. “Yeah, sweetheart.”
“Do you know how old I was when I figured out what my mom did for a living?”
“I don’t.”
“You really don’t? Or you know but you’re telling me you don’t?”
I raise a brow. “You wanna have that conversation now, too?” She shakes her head. “Good. ’Cause my answer is the same. I don’t know how old you were when you found out what your mom did for a living.”
“Twelve. I was twelve years old, sixth grade. My twelfth birthday party that I organized myself, to be exact. I can’t remember why I went outside, but it was after a couple of my friends’ fathers dropped their daughters off.” She stops talking and rolls her eyes. “I can see you know where I’m going with this.”
“I’m just listening to you.” And yeah, I know exactly where she’s going with this.
“I walked outside and overheard two dads talking about her and saying really awful, disturbing things about her fucking other men, and what they want to do to her, and just… just terrible things. I remember, like I physically have the sensation right now that I had then; my skin was prickly and my stomach was spinning, but I think a part of me was in denial as well. But not because I didn’t believe it, but because I didn’t understand it even though I somehow knew it was really bad.
“After that party, my friends started disappearing and instead of sitting with me at lunch, they’d sit at a different table and point at me and laugh. I asked my mom point blank if she had sex for money Christmas morning that same year. She said yes, and that was it, no explanation or anything. The safety I had as a child left me at that moment. It was like since I knew, and it was out in the open, not only did she stop trying to hide it anymore, but she almost flaunted it. Men started coming over and—”
“Did they ever touch you?”
“Yes.”
I drop my head. “Dammit.”
“It was never sexual from the guys my mom brought around for whatever reason, but it was weird. I felt uncomfortable around them. It was just… strange and a lot scary. They made me feel very unsafe.”
“Where was your mom during all of this?”
I shrug. “Sometimes there in the room. Sometimes she’d tell me the guy was my babysitter. Sometimes she’d go into the basement with a couple of other guys to”—I make air quotes—“fix some things.”
These little things are all details that Roxy conveniently left out when she hired us. There was no doubt that Madeline had a difficult childhood because of Roxy’s profession, but the fact that she didn’t shield her from that makes more sense as to why Madeline hates her so much. Coupled with the fact that she basically wanted to pimp her out, and I don’t anticipate any love lost there.
“Anyway, things spread, and in middle school, they do so alarmingly fast. So that meant everyone knew who my mom was before the summer of seventh grade. I walked in on my first day with no friends when the year before I had a ton. I’d catch teachers looking at me… just looking. I never knew what they were thinking, and frankly, I didn’t want to. Girls laughed at me, and boys were stupid boys who tried to be funny by making fun of me with something sexual. And that only got worse as I got older. And got boobs. High school was the worst. I can’t tell you how many times I got grabbed—”
“Grabbed where?”
“Breasts, butt, my crotch a few ti—”
“Names.”
She rears her head back. “What?”
“Write down their names.”
“Q.”
“Write down their fu
cking names, Madeline.”
She leans forward and holds my face in her tiny hands. “I love that you care, but—”
“Fuck yes, I care, and I don’t give a shit that it was over ten years ago. Little boys who do that grow up to be men who never stopped being boys. Give me their names.”
“Why?”
“So I can teach them a lesson.”
“Q.”
I can’t take the pain in her eyes and stand. Looking down at her, I feel the anger bubbling in my gut. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“I know. That’s why my mother and I have such a bad relationship. All that was happening to me, and there’s so much more to it, so, so much more, but all that was going on and she didn’t care. She didn’t try to shield me or protect me from any of it. But yeah, that’s why. She didn’t care that my life was a living hell because she fucked on camera, and I… I… I hated her for it.”
“That’s understandable.”
“You really didn’t know any of that, did you?”
This isn’t going to continue happening. “We’re not having that talk yet, but I’m gonna tell you now, no more lies. You’ll never get that from me ever again. You were the one who climbed on, understanding exactly what sinking down on my dick meant. I told you why I didn’t take us there before because I wanted you to know who I really was. And you know that now. So when I say I didn’t know, I’m not lying. We clear?”
Her chin barely dips, but I take that as an affirmation.
“Good. Now, what do you want for breakfast?”
After I make her some eggs and toast, we shower together and then go right back to bed. I really need sleep, but I can’t get it now. More important things need to get dealt with, and the first is Danny fucking Dakota.
My place is rigged tighter than a military base, but I still have Brodie come over while I head out. I highly doubt she’s going to wake up, but on the off chance she does, I wrote a note and stuck it to the inside of my bedroom door so she’d know to expect him and not me. The last thing I want to do is scare her or to have her come out of the bedroom looking like she did this morning for another man’s eyes to see.