Every Wound We Mend

by J. E. Parker

  Heaven, because it felt divine.

  Hell, because I wanted more.

  So. Much. More.

  Fingers lacing into his hair, his teeth grazed me, and I jerked, my center growing slicker as he curled his fingers into the crotch of my panties, his scarred knuckles skimming my wetness.

  Releasing me with a pop, leaving me aching and yet again craving more, he kissed my neck, his scruff both tickling and teasing me. “I hope you’re not attached to these.”

  He gave me no chance to respond, not that I could’ve, before jerking his hand down, destroying the flimsy fabric shielding me from his view in one go.

  Pushing up, he leaned on one hand and loomed over me, his stare dropping to the apex of my trembling thighs. Bearing his straight white teeth, he hissed, tracing a finger over the thin landing strip that led to my slick flesh. “Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better.”

  His finger descended.

  Holding my breath, I prayed my demons would remain locked away as he parted my lower lips, teasing the place I needed him to touch me the most.

  Thankfully, the fear I was afraid would make its presence known remained nowhere to be found.

  “You’re soaked and swollen.” Again, he hissed. “Tell me what you want first—my mouth or my cock.”

  I arched my neck, close to hysterical. “Por favor...”

  He chuckled, the sound maddening as he removed his torturous hand and leaned back, culo pressing against his calves. “I’ve got you.” Fisting his shirt behind his neck, he ripped it over his head, and dropped it to the bed beside him.

  My mind spun when he then slid off the bed and undressed, the jingle of his belt as he unfastened it, followed by the sound of his zipper as he tugged it down, making my head spin.

  Pushing to my elbows, I bent my knees, feet remaining on the mattress and parted my quaking legs, where I watched him remove his boots and socks, then shove down his unfastened jeans and black briefs to the hardwood in one move.

  My mouth fell open.

  His cock...

  I simply didn’t have the words.

  After all that I’d been through, the mere sight of it should’ve sent fear-driven chills racing down my spine, followed by the need to escape careening through my skull, but it didn’t.

  Instead, my hands twitched with the need to touch it, to feel its heaviness in the palm of my hand, as well as deep inside me, a place I’d never willingly allowed another.

  Just as my mouth watered to run my tongue along the throbbing vein lining the underside and sample the fluid beading on the swollen purple crown until I sated the gnawing hunger that roiled in my belly.

  Reading the want written all over my face, James growled, fisting his cock, which I wanted to have my name tattooed on, and pumped his hand along his length, pulling a moan from me.

  “You can touch me later,” he grunted, reaching forward with his free hand to capture one of my ankles. “But I’ve got other plans first.”

  “Si? And what plans are—”

  I squealed when he jerked me to the end of the bed. Releasing my ankle, he spread my legs wide, painfully so, and positioned both of my feet on the edge of the mattress.

  “Stop talking, baby, and sit up.”

  Teeth sinking into my lower lip, I did as he wanted and sat up, my arms straight, palms pressing against the peach-colored duvet for support. Smiling at my rare obedience, he sank to the floor, going to his knees before me.

  Is he—

  Hooking his arms around my thighs, he separated my bare pussy lips with his thumbs, erasing all rational thoughts. Lips parted, his face delved closer, the heat from his deep breaths mixing with the cool air teasing my wetness.

  “You keep your eyes on me.” I nodded, not daring to argue. For once. “Good girl. Now watch me make you scream.”

  I expected him to go slow, to start easy as his tongue touched me there for the first time. But is that what he did?

  Absolutely not.

  Choosing to baptize me into the world of pleasure by fire, his thick tongue slashed my swollen, needy clit on the first stroke, sending electrical currents through my limbs and making my eyes clench shut as I screamed—loudly.

  It was a mistake.

  “Open your eyes,” the wicked man before me demanded, his gruff tone one of warning. “And look at who it is that’s making you scream.”

  Close to madness, I gasped, my hips lifting, searching for the pleasure he’d only given me a small taste of as I forced my eyes to open and lock back on him.

  “I’m not giving our demons a chance to take this from us,” he said, stern voice calmer, but only by a bit. “Not tonight, and not ever.”

  Tears threatened.

  Thankfully, I held them back.

  “I won’t let them. Prometo.”

  He kissed my inner thigh. “Good.”

  Then, before I could prepare for the intensity I’d learned his mouth could bring, his tongue found my clit once more.

  First licking, then sucking the sensitive nub between his firm lips, he drove me closer to full-blown madness with each movement.

  Fighting to ground myself against his onslaught, I sunk my fingers into his inky black hair, holding him to me. He growled again, unintelligible curses falling from his busy lips as his movements sped up, and I screamed even louder, begging him never to quit.

  Fisting the duvet, I ground against him, unable to stop myself as my head thrashed side to side and my curvy hips bucked, pushing back against the pleasure that multiplied with each swipe of his talented tongue, propelling me closer to something I’d never felt, along with something I’d never been.

  Free.

  My center fluttered as his thick middle finger breaching my body, tunneling its way inside me. An unspoken question danced in his pupils when he looked up, his mouth never leaving me.

  “I want more,” I answered.

  My legs locked, thighs tensing, the ability to remain partially upright nearly vanishing when he slid in a second finger and hooked them both, hitting the spot deep inside me that made my vision waver and my toes curl.

  “Oh my”—a gasp fell from my lips as he nipped my clit—“James!”

  With no warning, my orgasm hit.

  Releasing the fabric, I sunk a second hand into his hair and locked my legs around his head. He pumped his fingers harder, thrusting deeper, each skilled movement sending me to a place I’d never been, where monsters didn’t exist, and pain wasn’t a possibility.

  Only bliss.

  Scream after scream tore from my lungs when he stood, pushing me flat on the bed, my legs still wrapped around him, and further buried his face against my slit, lapping down everything I gave him as I rode the wave of pleasure he’d sent me on until it crested, then crashed, leaving me a boneless mess.

  Breathless, I released him.

  Unwinding my legs from the headlock I had him in, I lifted my head and watched, half-dazed, as he leaned over me, his wet lips pressing gentle, heart-stopping kisses to each of the scars covering my belly.

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, raw agony lining each word. “I know we’re putting this shit behind us, but you’ve gotta know...”

  I pushed myself to one elbow and cupped his cheek. “Si, I know.” My thumb wiped away a lone tear that spilled from his eye. “And you’re right, we’re putting it behind us.”

  Dropping my hand, I trailed my finger down his left arm and over the back of his hand. “So how about you zip those tempting lips and give me what I want?”

  That wicked smile returned. “And what’s that?”

  My tongue rolled over my bottom lip, and I sat up completely, forcing him to move back and give me room. My bare chest caught his gaze when I climbed to my knees, my heavy breasts swaying with each movement as I moved to cup his broad shoulders.

  “Your cock.”

  Snarling like the beast I joked he was, he slapped my culo with both of his meaty hands, the sting biting, as his fingers dug int
o my flesh where they remained. “Wrap your legs around me.”

  He lifted me without effort, and I did as he said, anchoring myself to him as he moved back off the bed and turned, walking me backward until my shoulder blades hit the wall with a thud.

  Adjusting me, he grunted when the head of his cock tapped my clit, eliciting a whimper from me as the simple touch sent heat throttling through my core, and my center pulsated, begging for what he’d soon give me.

  “Grab my cock.”

  Eyes meeting his, I hesitated.

  “My hands are busy, beautiful.” His panty-melting southern drawl had thickened, making my painted toes curl when he bent his head and pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead. “So help me out here, yeah?”

  Pushing his hips forward, he nudged my slit with the head of his dick, the tip slick with his arousal. “Wrap that pretty little hand around my cock and put me inside you.” He shifted, moving his mouth to my ear, and biting it gently, then growled once more. “Now, baby.”

  Not one to argue when I was naked and so close to having him inside me, I grabbed him like he’d demanded, positioning his broad crown at my entrance. “James...” Dropping my hand, I whined for what felt like the millionth time. “Por favor...”

  “Please what?”

  “Just—”

  “Eyes on mine,” he snapped.

  Shaking and needing him inside of me worse than I’d ever needed a fix of heroin, I looked up, obeying. Frustrated and teetering on the precipice of losing my mind, I palmed his thick neck. “Would you shut up and just give me your—”

  I lost the ability to both speak and breathe when he pushed his thickness into me, forcing my tight flesh to yield to him.

  Memories, ugly ones, instantly took hold.

  Fighting to stay in the moment, I panted as he grunted, then shoved forward, burying himself deeper, battling to shatter the mental chains holding me prisoner.

  “You still with me?” he asked, nose brushing against mine as he stilled, allowing me time to adjust to his formidable size, in addition to the emotions swirling in my chest.

  Unable to answer, I dipped my chin.

  He pulsated inside me, twitching the slightest bit, and my vision grew blurry thanks to the tears filling my eyes. I tried to blink them away, to hide them as best I could, but with his full attention locked on me, James still saw them.

  “Pixie—”

  “I’m okay,” I interrupted, speaking truthfully, the pleasure of having him inside me numbing the pain of the memories he would soon replace. “I just need... Just make love to me, si?”

  Lifting me higher, he banded an arm around my lower back and touched his lips to mine. “I love you,” he whispered against me. “And I swear on my life that no one will ever hurt you again, baby.”

  I believed him.

  With my entire healing heart.

  “Y te amo.” And I love you...

  Leaning back against the wall, I circled my hips, moaning when my nipples hardened once more, the pleasure I’d gotten a hint of seconds before roaring to life, carrying the promise of something earth-shattering with it. “Now move.”

  He didn’t need to be told again.

  Lifting me higher, he pulled back, sliding his cock almost free before pumping back into me, ripping a scream from deep in my chest. The pleasure—Cristo, his sinful mouth had brought so much of it, but the feeling of his cock wedged deep inside me, caressing nerves I hadn’t known existed?

  It was wicked magic.

  Pure Voodoo.

  And after one stroke, I was addicted.

  “Guapo...”

  His name on my lips was a plea for more when he rocked back inside me, causing my back to arch, breasts jutting toward him.

  Lost in the feel of him, I grasped his shoulders again, holding on for the ride I knew was coming as he groaned, the speed of his thrusts increasing each time he plunged forward, bottoming out.

  “My fingers dug into him as he unwound his arm from my lower back, one hand still holding onto my culo, and licked his thumb before pressing it to my aching clit.

  “James!” I yelled, legs shaking around his waist. Coaxing me to another orgasm, he bit his bottom lip when I screamed, his muscles bunching erratically beneath my palms. “Harder!”

  He cursed beneath his breath, his thumb drawing quick circles, pushing me closer to the edge and erasing one nightmarish memory after another as he gnashed his teeth and fucked his cock in and out of me, root to tip.

  “I want your lips,” he said, leaning closer, chest nearly touching mine.

  Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead to my chest as I joined my mouth to his, tongue delving deep, earning a satisfied groan from the base of his throat, which I swallowed down, wanting to possess everything he gave me.

  Needing air as much as I needed him, I broke the kiss we shared seconds later and gasped, head growing light as tension built in my lower belly, so close to snapping.

  My center clamped down, tightening around his cock as the explosion I’d sensed was coming, and one I was terrified would wreck me, drew closer, and then, before I could suck in another breath, struck like lightning, fast and scorching.

  And like glass, I shattered.

  Between my legs, James plowed into me one last time, burying himself to the hilt as I moaned, the erotic sounds and indecipherable words pouring from my mouth foreign to my own ears as he came, my greedy body draining him of every drop.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Burying his face in my throat, his heaving breaths danced across my sweat-slicked skin. “You are mine, Carmen,” he said, speaking a truth we both knew aloud. “And if you ever leave me again, I will burn the whole fucking world down to find you.”

  Pulling back, he peered at me.

  “You understand me?”

  Past the point of exhaustion and fighting to keep my eyes from rolling back in my head, I nodded. “Si, I understand.” I blew out a shaky breath. “And you’re mine too. As for that”—I dropped a hand from his shoulder and pointed at his cock, which was still wedged deep inside me, throbbing with a heartbeat all its own—“that definitely belongs to me.”

  He laughed, deep and boisterously. “I’ll concede to that.”

  I didn’t care if he conceded to it or not. I said what I said, and I meant it. He knew it too thanks to the look I shot him, which left him grinning like a loon and shaking his head.

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Well,” I said, fingers lacing together at the back of his neck. “You could start with putting me to bed, because I’m exhausted thanks to you. Plus, I’ve missed sleeping in your arms. Mightily so.”

  He pinched my chin. “Yeah?”

  I nodded, eyelids drooping.

  “Then I guess I should get you tucked in.” Still inside me, he turned and carried me back to the bed, where he set me down and pulled his body free of mine.

  Possessiveness gleamed in his gaze as she stared at where his come leaked from my slit. Pushing to my elbows as I’d done earlier, I tilted my head, watching him.

  “If you’re worried about bebés, don’t be,” I murmured. “I can’t get pregnant. Not after all the damage he did to me.” I refused to speak the demon’s name aloud and ruin such a moment. “And I’m clean too.”

  After all I’d been through—repeated rapes and dirty needles included—the latter was a miracle, one that I was thankful for.

  James froze, his mind seizing on only one thing I’d said. “We’re not talking about that motherfucker tonight. But just know, he’s going to get what’s coming to him. No matter how much it costs me.” Confused, my brow furrowed as he nodded toward the headboard. “Climb up, baby, because as much as you want to fall asleep in my arms, I want that too.”

  I sat up. “I need to go—”

  He shook his head and clasped my shoulder, not giving me a chance to stand. “I’ll clean you up in a minute. Now get your pretty little ass under the covers.”

  Lips pursing, I turned, do
ing as he said—when did I become so obedient?—and climbed between the silk sheets that felt like Heaven.

  Eyes nearly closed, I listened half-heartedly, my mind at peace, as he walked into the bathroom and wet a washcloth with warm water before coming back and cleaning the mess we’d created from between my legs.

  The act was sweet but unneeded.

  I enjoyed having him on—and in—me.

  Still, I loved how he cared for me.

  Tossing the soiled cloth into the corner, he climbed into bed next to me and pulled me into his arms, positioning my head on his chest, where the feel of his steady heart bled into me.

  Nuzzling into him, I sighed in contentment. “Te amo, Guapo.”

  “Love you too, Pixie. Now sleep.”

  I smiled, the sound of his deep drawl and rumbling chest bringing me a level of comfort I hadn’t felt since I was last in his arms. Within minutes, as his fingers stroked my hair, massaging my scalp, I did just as he’d commanded.

  I fell asleep.

  18

  James

  My son-in-law looked ready to kill me.

  Eyes narrowed, he glared to where I was leaning against the metal frame of his open office door, my arms crossed over my chest, awaiting an answer to the request I’d just made.

  To my dismay, I didn’t get one.

  Instead, Anthony, dickhead that he’s always been, stood from behind the paper-covered desk where he’d been sitting. “You want me to do what?” he snapped, setting my teeth on edge with only half a dozen words.

  If he didn’t watch his step, along with his tone, I was liable to strangle him with the chain that hung from his neck, his Toluca PD badge clipped to the bottom of it.

  I loved the asshole like the son I considered him to be, but he and I were oil and water—we simply didn’t mix well.

  And that led to us butting heads.

  Often.

  Temple throbbing with the start of a headache, I stood straight, ready to lay all my cards on the table before I tossed him out the double paned glass window to his right and earned an ass-whooping from my hot-tempered daughter in return.

  I didn’t have time for his shit.