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“I’m not kidding,” she says. “I want to get mine… the way you choked out that guy for disrespecting me… I want to be the one doing that next time.”
“I hope for his sake it never comes to that,” I say.
Hearing her talk like this strikes a special chord of death and destruction in me. One better left untouched.
“It will come to that,” she says. “And I’ll be ready. Thanks to you.”
“Wow, I created a monster,” I say, and I can’t deny it makes me happy.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” she says, the bad grammar sounding a little odd coming from her, but perfect nonetheless.
Then she stands on her toes and kisses me again. For real this time. Ferocious like her words.
Before I know it, we’re naked again, my back in the dirt as she rides me like her life depends on it. Her head is thrown back, hair streaming behind her in waves, keeping rhythm to her body’s undulations as she takes my cock and then some.
I’m harder than I’ve ever been. And I’m so close I can practically taste the orgasm again. Her pussy is the best thing I’ve ever felt, past, present, future, forever. But I won’t come yet. Not before her.
She’s close too, I can feel it in the tensing of her muscles, the shudders that vibrate across her body each time she takes me deep. Hear it in the moans that sound like they’re coming from the very center of her.
Her pussy clenches on my cock and goes perfectly still, a primal scream escaping her mouth, and echoing off the trees and the hills. I’m sure it can be heard all the way to the ends of the earth.
I come too. Harder than I thought I could. And the best part is, the good feeling lingers even after she’s lying on top of me, in my arms. And I know better than ever that I’ll give her anything she wants. Even if it ends up being the ability to kill anyone who messes with her. If that’s what she needs…
After all, I am the guy who has a notch tattooed on my arm for every man I’ve killed, and it’s a long list. I stopped adding those tats after I met her, but what the hell… if that’s what she needs, I’m her man.
24
Ariel
I did remember to text my mom not to wait for me last night, but clearly, they all did anyway. They’re by the pool again as I let myself in through the garden gate and it’s clear they’re not there just to enjoy themselves.
“What happened to you?” my mom asks, jumping to her feet and wincing because the motion must’ve aggravated the pain in her hip.
Veronica is looking at me with very wide eyes and even Dad looks tense. Mom walks towards me, her lips pursed, her eyes full of worry.
“What’s all this in your hair?” she asks as she starts pulling twigs from it. “Did someone hurt you?”
On the contrary, I want to say. Or shout it at the top of my lungs, more like. Scream it just as loudly as I screamed when I came for the second time and then later, twice more. Something broke in me last night. Something deeply anchored was let loose. But in a good way. And I want everyone to know just how good I feel. Only, I don’t know how to tell them, because I’m sure they’d never understand.
“No, nothing happened to me, Mom. I’m fine,” I say and smile at her. “Better than fine, actually. But I need a shower now. And some sleep.”
Mom steps back and lets me pass, her eyes and her mouth open wide. I can feel that same surprise radiating off my sister and my dad too.
Veronica follows me to the guest house and closes the door firmly behind us once we’re inside.
“You weren’t at Happy Paws all night,” she says and it’s a statement, but also a question.
I shake my head. “Nope. I was with Ruin. It was very nice.”
She gasps and I can just see her fighting with herself not to say the wrong thing. She’s constantly doing that, never wanting to hurt me in any way, not even with words. But it’s time they stopped treating me like I’m made of crystal or something even more fragile.
“He took me to the seediest biker bar I’ve ever seen,” I tell her. “And then we made love under the stars.”
I want to say “fucked” but that’s not really what we did. Made love isn’t either. It’s more like, we found our souls and joined them. And that joining healed me. Filled what severed and fixed the rip caused by all I’ve been through, all that was done to me and made me whole again. But I don’t think I can explain that to her. I can hardly find the words to make sense of it in my own mind. It’s just a feeling I have. I wonder if she’d even understand, since she never experienced the kind of severing I went through. But I’m sure she won’t understand it right now. Not when she’s looking at me like I just destroyed her favorite toy.
“You have to be careful with him,” she says. “He’s a killer.”
“Aren’t they all? Isn’t Chance a killer too?”
