by Lola StVil
What if I’m like this forever? What if this is our lives now? Why can’t I just forget about being raped? Why can’t I just let go? What’s wrong with me? Why am I so fucking broken?
“Hey, where did you go just now?” he asks as he studies my face.
I don’t reply. He knows where my mind was.
“If you want to wait to try again, we can. I can wait for you.”
“Maybe you can wait, Gage, but I can’t. I’m horny as fuck!” It was such an unexpected admission—we end up howling with laughter.
“ARGH!” I shout out loud as my laughter dies down.
“Hey, you really want to have sex right now?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“And you want me inside you?”
“Yes—so much.”
“Okay. Do you trust me?”
I look into his eyes and say “yes” without hesitation.
“What was the one overwhelming feeling when your ex assaulted you?” he asks carefully. Roger is the last thing I want to think about right now. I question Gage’s judgment, and I’m about to object, but then I see the concern in his eyes. He loves me. If he’s bringing this up, there is a point to it.
“I felt…like I was spiraling into a void,” I reply.
“It makes sense. Okay, what else?”
I inhale deeply. “I felt…small. Like he was going to reduce me to nothing,” I reply.
“It makes sense. It’s gotta be tough not knowing how or when the ordeal would end,” he says as he takes his hand in mine.
“Was that the part that stuck with you the most—feeling small and spiraling?”
“Yeah, I guess. But overall it was more…control. I had no control over what he was doing to me. And when you and I get close to penetration…that feeling of being out of control comes back.”
“Got it,” he says as he makes us both sit up. “Open your legs and straddle me.”
“So far, I like this.” I smile.
He laughs. “Get up here, woman.”
I do as he says. He looks at me and starts to kiss me. It doesn’t take much for me to start to get all hot and bothered again. Our kisses grow from a sweet expression of love to carnal lust. We let our tongues dance and intertwine in a feral dance. He nuzzles my ear, down to my neck, and kneads my breasts. I’m already wet again. Only Gage can do that to me.
He watches as my chest rises and falls. He swallows hard when I open my blouse and let him see my lace bra. He skims his lips over the top of my bra and causes my nipples to get so hard they beg to be released from the fabric holding them back. He reaches around back and effortlessly unhooks my bra. It falls down on his lap; he picks it up and holds out both of his hands as if he’s being arrested.
He says, “You wanted control; take it. Cuff me.”
I look at him, expecting to see signs that he’s in fact joking, but he’s dead serious. Something about the way he gazes at me turns me on. I bind his hands with my bra, using a sturdy double knot, and tighten it as hard as I can. There’s no way he can get out of it. I raise his hands high above his head. I lean in closer. I nibble on his ear and slide my tongue down his neck. I slowly make my way to his pecs. I flick his nipple with my tongue, and he swears.
He lowers his head so his mouth and my breasts are aligned. He pops one of them into his mouth and bites down—gently. The mix of pleasure and pain is delicious. My heart is pounding in my ears, and my toes are tingling. Damn this feels fantastic. I kiss him all over his chest, and with every passing moment, a dull ache of longing stirs inside me. He bathes me in hot, wet, seeking kisses, setting my body on fire.
I can feel his cock growing—hard. And just when I think it can’t get any more erect, it does just that. This is when I would get scared. Not this time. The control is still mine. I can do what I want with him. I reach down and wrap my hands around his cock. He’s big. But that’s okay. In fact, the girth and impressive length make me lick my lips in anticipation.
I stroke his cock over and over until he groans. It feels good to hold something so powerful in my hands. He’s so fucking masculine, and knowing that if he wanted to, he could rip the fucking bra off and split me in half with his cock isn’t something I fear anymore. It’s something I want. I lower my lips onto the tip of his cock and kiss it. I encircle the head and slide my tongue around it. It stands up, fully erect, and he inhales sharply. His chest is rising up and down as he tries to control his breathing.
And suddenly all I want is to make him lose it. I want him to want me so much, it is pure torment. And just like that, the cock that I tried to run from is my only salvation. So I welcome it into my mouth. I take him in so deep inside I can feel his member coating the back of my mouth. He groans. And once my fingers start massaging his balls, he cries out, “Christ, babe! You feel so good.”
I can feel his orgasm boiling, ready to come to the surface. I suck harder.
“Oh fuck!” he growls as he thrusts his hips and digs his heels into the floor. Then without any warning, I do what I have wanted to do since I met him, I impale myself on his massive cock. He stretches me and fills every inch of me. It hurts. But I order my body to get past it. I adjust until it’s angled just right inside me. It takes a few moments, but now I’m starting to adjust to having him inside me. And now, I finally get to ride.
My hips move in rhythm to his thrusts. I wrap my arms around his neck and grind on him with a frenzy I’ve never known. He’s filling me, stretching me…healing me.
“Gage!” I beg.
“Let me go, babe,” he growls, desperate to touch me all over.
“No, more! More!” I grind on him and milk his cock while the room begins to spin. I can’t stop. I can’t.
“Release me,” he demands as he latches on to one of my nipples and greedily bites down.
“OHYES!” I moan as the sweet pain travels down to my core. My hips move faster and faster to receive him. I want to set him free, but I can’t think. It’s all too much. Gage is done with waiting. He rips his binding in half and throws me down on the sofa. I’m on my back, and he’s looking up at me.
His nostrils are flaring; his cock is ready to reenter and to take over. I’m ready. I’m so fucking ready. I’m not afraid of him even though his restraints are gone because I know that I belong to him and he is always going to belong to me. I know that the only danger Gage poses is to whoever tried to hurt me. He looks down at me, eyes wild with lust and fervor.
I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his torso. He plows into me possessively. He rams inside me and rocks my very foundation. But while his movements are firm and demanding, they are never cruel. He never takes his eyes off me. I see it right then and there—behind his eyes, I see for the first time just how much this man loves me. I milk him and call out his name. He hits my spot and over and over again until I am writhing under him. I hold on to my man, and although the ecstasy is a thousand times more than what I can handle, I keep going, keep loving him. We are forever. I know that now. And as we orgasm and lose control of our bodies, I hold on to the only man who has ever truly loved me.
She has curled herself into me on the sofa. She’s facing away, but her ass is right up against me. We’re covered in the throw I placed on top of us earlier. My arms are around her to keep her from drifting away from me. The heat from her body is too addicting; I keep her close as I kiss her bare shoulder. She coos in my arms and rubs her ass against me.
“Do that again, and we’ll never leave this house,” I warn her. She does it again.
“That’s it, come here,” I order as I pull her even closer. She looks over her shoulder and laughs.
“It’s not smart to tempt me. Now be a good girl and just stay still,” I reply as I start to drift off to sleep. She rubs her ass back and forth against my crotch.
Hmmmm.
She lazily sighs as if she has no idea what she’s doing to me. She behaves as if she’s just trying to find the right position to fall asleep. But she knows very well wh
at she’s doing. She’s stark naked under the throw, and that alone is enough to make me hard. But the way her ass is rubbing against me…
“You are so bad…” I growl as my cock grows still and eager in anticipation. Spooning on the sofa has never been this erotic before. Just knowing that her bare exposed pussy is only inches away from me make me hard as fuck. So, when she moans softly and rubs into my cock once again, I whisper, “I warned you,” into her ear. I grab her ass and pull her even further into me. I insert just the tip of my cock into her opening, not sure if she’s ready for me. But shit, she is.
“Babe, I love how wet you get for me.” I reach my hand around the front and play with her pussy. She’s already panting with pleasure. I want to take my time, tease her, torment her, make her beg but I can’t. Her pussy is too goddamn good to stay away from. I need her—now. I part her legs from behind and embed myself, balls deep into her pussy. In the meantime, my fingers continue to rub her clit. With my other hand, I lightly pinch her rock-hard nipple. Her pussy is so tight, so warm and so fucking wet, it sends me into a trance.
“You’re mine, aren’t you, baby?” I ask.
She groans with excitement but doesn’t answer. She wants me to make her say it. She wants me to claim her, the same way she’s claimed me. I grab a fistful of her hair, careful not to hurt her.
“You’re mine. And I’m yours. Say yes,” I beg. She stares at me. Lust and mischief cloud her eyes. “Say it,” I instruct.
She doesn’t.
I pull out of her—just enough to make her think I’m pulling out entirely. And then I ram my cock into her and hit her g-spot.
“OHSHIT!” she cries. I hit it again. Gripped by ecstasy, she reaches back, digs her nails into my thigh, and claws at me. I stroke her spot again. Again. Again.
“Okayokayokay, I’m yours! Oh, god…I’m yours, baby. I’m yours…fuck!” she says as her orgasm takes hold. I’m not far behind. We lie there exhausted and drained of all life. I pull her close and hold her against me as beads of sweat make their way down her forehead. I kiss her temple as she quivers in my arms. “I love you, Shelby.”
“I love you, Agent Hunter.”
We drift off to sleep once again.
***
We’re in the car, just outside my mom’s place. I’m watching my future wife check her makeup in her compact for the millionth time. She looks fantastic. I told her that—also a million times. But she looks in the mirror yet again.
“I think I’m having a ‘bad pore’ day. We should come back when my pores clear up. It’s better that way,” she suggests.
I try to suppress my laughter because something tells me she wouldn’t appreciate it.
“What?” she says, reading my expression.
“Wonder, your skin is literally the most perfect thing I’ve ever encountered. You glow even before you put makeup on. Makeup that you don’t even need. Baby, you look beautiful. My family is going to love you.”
“What if they don’t? That’s a deal breaker, right? Crap, I think I should have gone with a different shade of eye shadow.”
“No, you look perfect. I’m not lying to you. I don’t know anything about the beauty industry. But I know people. And when we walk into a restaurant, a bar, anywhere, people are actually taken aback by you—even before you speak. I’ve never met anyone as striking as you. Now, get your ass out of the car so we can go inside.”
She takes one final look at herself and then puts her compact away. I get out of the car, go around to the side, and open the door for her. She steps out looking like a billion bucks. I get a look at her ass as she walks by me. I swallow a growl.
Damn.
I’m wondering why the hell we left the house in the first place. She must be able to hear the lust in my voice because when I call out her name, she says, “Don’t even think about it. There’s no time for that.”
I pull her in close before she can get past me and whisper, “When this is over, I want you ass naked, in our bed and bent over. Got it?”
She pretends to be upset as she scolds me, “Focus, Agent Hunter.” But I can see behind her act. She can’t wait for us to be alone either.
“Gage, I’m meeting your family. You should be nervous too.”
“Well, I’m not because I know they will love you,” I promise. We make our way towards the front door. She comments on the lavish exterior and vast structure. Once we walk inside, she notes the ceilings, the marble floors, and the accent pieces. The first person we encounter is my dad. He tells us my mom is getting dressed and that she should be down soon. Then he turns all his attention towards her with a grin on his face.
“So happy we finally get to meet you!” he says. She’s taken aback by his friendliness. She eventually breaks into a smile and hugs him back.
My dad looks like one tough son of a bitch when you first meet him. Life in the Army did that. But in truth, he’s a good guy.
“Dad, this is Shelby Rush.”
“Well, let me get a good look,” he says as he holds her at arm’s length.
“You’re pretty, intelligent, and well-mannered. I can’t figure why you chose to end up with that one over there,” he jokes, signaling towards me.
She blushes and says, “He’s not that bad. He’s growing on me.”
“Yeah, well if you change your mind, I’ve got four other boys, much better looking, much smarter, and all-around nicer.”
“Really, Dad?” I groan.
She laughs and says she’ll keep that in mind.
“How was the reunion?” she asks my dad. I told her about that in passing; I’m surprised she remembered.
“Good, but everybody there got so damn old! Well, except for me.”
“I can tell, what’s your secret?” Shelby asks.
“Whisky.” He laughs.
“Oh really? In that case, I might look really good too when I get older.”
“Now, wait. Are you a whiskey drinker?” he asks.
“I have to say, I am a fan,” she admits.
“Oh well now, I think if you come with me, you won’t be disappointed,” Dad says.
“I can’t just take off with you and leave Gage here—unless what you’re offering is better than your son’s company,” she teases.
“Macallan. 1926,” Dad counters.
“What? That’s a seventy-five-thousand-dollar bottle! You never let us open it. No matter how much we begged you!” I protest.
“Well, you’re not Shelby,” he counters. I smile.
“And what’s so special about her?” I tease.
My dad leans in and whispers, “She made that happen.” I’m not sure what he means at first but I follow his gaze towards the mirror—he’s looking at my reflection. And I see it; I’m smiling. I haven’t done that in a year.
“Now, shall we?” he says to her. She takes his hand, and the two of them enter the library where my dad keeps his premium bottles and rare books. I follow—not that anyone asked me to come along. I always loved the way this room smells of old leather, and Shelby agrees. My dad has her sit in his chair—and none of us ever got to do that—and we sit across from her.
The two of them drink and discuss everything from politics to popcorn. In the middle of the conversation, Dad hands out cigars and she takes one. At first, I thought she was just being nice, but then she lit that thing and put it in her mouth like it’s something she did every day. It turns out she loves them and allows herself one a few times a year.
I’m also surprised when Wonder tells my dad that she brought him a gift. She didn’t tell me she was bringing anything. I look over at her, and she whispers, “It’s rude not to bring a gift. Everyone knows that, babe.”
She goes into her handbag and takes out an elegantly wrapped gray-and-black box. My dad unwraps it to find a rare piece of metal taken from his favorite fighter jet. He’s a collector, and I mentioned to her that he’s been looking for a piece for a long time. My dad loves it. In fact, before they move on, he makes it a point
to have the metal encased among his other warplane memorabilia.
“I’ll be right back; I have to check on your mom. Son, don’t screw this up!” he says as he takes off to find my mom.
“How the hell did you find that thing?’ I ask as I lean over to her.
“I’m Shelby. I find things.”
“Well, you made his year, you really did.”
“He’s so sweet,” she replies.
“Yeah, to you. But to us, he was to be feared for just about anything.”
“He was that stern?”
“He didn’t want us to be lazy and spoiled, so he worked us damn hard to make sure we were self-reliant.”
My dad comes back, and the easy smile he had before is gone. He looks worried and on edge.
“Dad, what is it?”
“Your mom…she gave up on trying to get dressed. She put her nightgown back on and got back into bed. She’s crying herself to sleep. We’re gonna have to postpone tonight. I’m sorry, Shelby,” he says. My heart sinks. My mom never stays down too long, but Rose’s death is killing her.
“I’ll go up and talk to her,” I reply, not sure what I’m going to say.
“I don’t know if it will help. Your brothers have all come around and tried to reach her. She puts on a brave face but as soon as they are gone…I don’t know what to do. I can’t lose your mom after losing Rosy. I don’t know how I could keep going if I lost them both.” I place my hand on Dad’s shoulder. This is eating away at him too.
“Hey, I know it’s a strange request” Shelby begins, “But I’ve looked at most of your family’s photo albums and well…you can tell a lot from a person judging by their fashion history. Also, I’ve attended most of the functions she either chaired or attended. I know it sounds crazy, but can I talk to her?”
I make my way up the steps as my hands grow cold and my stomach tightens. It’s one thing to meet your fiancé’s mother, but it’s an entirely different thing when that woman is grieving the loss of her child. I don’t have any illusions about how much I can actually help. But I’m hoping—if she opens the door—at the very least she won’t be in there grieving alone.