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When my fingers are clean, Teigan pulls away, a satisfied smirk on her face. “That was fun,” she says with a giggle.
I lean in and capture her lips with mine, loving the fact I can taste us both on her tongue. As I pull back, her eyes are swimming with lust all over again. I roll onto my back, pulling her into my side, so she rests her head on my chest before throwing her leg over my thigh.
“Why don’t we have a little nap, and then I will feed you. You need to keep your strength up. It’s not even lunchtime, and I don’t plan on letting you leave this bed at all today,” I reply, my voice deep and husky.
Her body vibrates on top of me as she chuckles. “Promises, promises,” she sings, before leaning up to press her lips against mine.
“Oh, Angel, you know I always keep my promises. But only if you show me what a good girl you can be. If you’re a good girl, I will make your pussy crave my cock, and ruin you for anyone else.”
“You’ve already done that. I’ve always been yours, Evan.”
The words hit me straight in the heart, and no matter how hard I try, I know there’s no coming back from this. I may have never wanted to let anyone else in again, but I don’t think I have a choice here.
I’ve always belonged to Teigan. I just have to trust she treasures my heart the way I do hers.
Ican’t believe it’s been almost two months since I arrived at the safe house. There’s a part of me that feels like I’ve been here—with Evan—forever. Yet there’s also some aspects that seem to have passed by so quickly.
It’s been almost two weeks since we finally gave in to our feelings, and we’ve never looked back. Things between me and Evan have just gone from strength to strength, and I’ve never been fucking happier.
It took me almost three days to finally convince him to let me get up out of bed for any longer than to use the bathroom or to grab something quick to eat. Not that I’m complaining though.
Living together in such forced proximity can either make or break your relationship, and for us, it’s made us stronger.
Both of us have a tendency to run away from the hard stuff, as we proved the first few times we kissed, but being stuck togetherin the same house means there’s not too far we can run, and so it’s made us confront things we maybe wouldn’t have done as quickly under different circumstances.
Don’t get me wrong, I still have some major secrets that I’m not quite ready for him to know about, most of which includes the time I spent with The Sheriff, and Evan’s never pushed me on that. Just like I know there’s aspects of his job that he doesn’t talk to me about, and I don’t ask.
We’re both aware we are not the same kids we once were, and we’ve seen and done more things in the time we were apart than we could have ever imagined—changing us both beyond belief—but there will come a time when we have to talk about those things. For now, we’re quite content living in the moment, and just taking the time to relearn each other.
In a way, there are parts of Evan that still remind me of the boy I once loved. When you break down the walls he’s been living behind, and get to know the guy beneath the grumpy mask he wears, he’s still so incredibly kind and caring, he’s funny, and fuck me is he sexy.
When we first had sex, it was phenomenal, and I was so unbelievably proud of myself for even being able to do what I did, without the memories of what I endured and witnessed being triggers for me. But what surprised me most of all was the way I so easily slipped back into the girl I used to be.
We talked a lot after that first time, about how in the heat of the moment things slipped out. He talked dirty and lavished me with praise, and while I was turned on, I called himSir.
There was just something so inherently easy about it, and it felt natural. After that, we decided to just do what comes natural to us, knowing that either of us would use the safe word or sign if we felt uncomfortable.
We even managed to work up from vanilla to rougher stuff. He encouraged me to take the lead a few times, riding him,pulling my own pleasure from him in a way that made me feel fucking invincible.
With each orgasm, and new things we tried and conquered, my self-confidence grew. Not just in the bedroom, but out of it, too. I started to believe that maybe I really can heal, and that the utterly broken feelings I had when I came here might go away totally after all.
A couple of days ago, I finally confessed to Evan that I felt ready to take things a little further sexually. In the past, I used to get a lot of pleasure from being completely dominated, punished, and degraded. But the thing I loved most was having Evan be in control of my breathing. The feel of him pressing on my carotid artery, restricting the blood flow in a way that makes my head spin, is an indescribable feeling.
Although there were a lot of aspects I still wasn’t ready to experiment with—blow jobs being one of them—I did want to try breath play again, to see if it was something I could handle.
The feeling of him holding my ability to breathe in his hands, pressing harder as he pounds into me, my lungs burning, as I beg for him to give me air with just my eyes—it’s a fucking heady experience. And I knew from the first time we tried it that I still loved it just as much as I used to, as did Evan.
What I loved more than anything was seeing the look of pure pride on Evan’s face when he realised I trusted him enough to literally hold my ability to breathe in his hands.
It may have taken me a few days to be sure, but I think, even when I thought I hated him, there was a part of me that still trusted him. The way he hurt me a decade ago was so incredibly not in keeping with the boy I knew, and as I look back now, I’m screaming at myself for not challenging what I was told. For not knowing the letter was fake.
Even as a dumb eighteen-year-old, I was so fucking sure he would never hurt me, yet when I was faced with the possibilitythat he had, it was easier to believe that he couldn’t choose me over his family, than for me to look at it more closely.
A part of me has always known Evan would rather destroy everyone around me than cause me even the slightest bit of pain. I’ve always been his priority, and I should have believed in that more when we were together. Sometimes my insecurities had more of an effect on things than I thought.
As I lay here in his arms, looking at the way his face peacefully relaxes when he sleeps, I can’t quite believe how lucky we are to have found our way back to each other. Things could have turned out different in a heartbeat, and I hate to think where I may have ended up had Evan not won the auction all those weeks ago. I’d be with The Baron in his Dollhouse, and that thought alone makes me want to vomit.
A soft buzzing pulls him from sleep, and I watch with a smile on my face as Evan blinks a few times, trying to work out what the hell woke him up. As soon as his eyes focus, and his gaze lands on me, his rumpled forehead smooths out and he gives me the most panty-melting smirk.
