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“Yes,” she mutters through gritted teeth. “Fuck me, Noah.”
I do, slamming into her at a harsh pace. I nip at her lip, enough to draw blood and coat my mouth with the coppery taste. I let my hand drift to her throat, gripping around the delicate skin. I can feel her pussy clench around my cock at the action. She’s turned on, letting herself drift onto the line between pleasure and pain.
She’s moaning beneath me and squeezing my cock perfectly with her pussy. I can see it in her eyes, how fucking close she is to breaking, letting herself tumble over the edge and shatter beneath me.
I pump into her, letting the friction of our bodies so close together stimulate her clit as I continue. When she finally comes, her eyes roll back and she screams my name on repeat.
“Fuck, baby,” I moan as she slowly begins to reopen her eyes. I love the look on her face when she tumbles off the edge, breaking beneath me as her orgasm crashes over her.
So fucking beautiful.
An exhausted and deeply satisfied Mikaela sleeps in my bed. There’s a wash of pride that floods over my body seeing her there.
My girl.
Her eyes flutter as I wrap the soft blanket around her, tucking her into my bed. “Where are you going?” she asks hazily when I don’t lay down with her.
“Shh,” I whisper, “Just back downstairs to see the boys out, I’ll be back.”
She hums an incoherent sound and turns, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself and drifting back to sleep.
I head back downstairs, finding the boys in different stages of post-nut. Beckett is leaning back into the couch, eyes closed and arms slung along the top with his shirt missing. Vaughn is back on the chair, fully clothed, but looking ready to pass out. Pax is also missing his shirt, his inked torso and arms on display while he stands in the center of the room running a hand through his black hair. He looks more peaceful though, a rarity for Pax.
Their eyes float to me when I hit the bottom of the stairs. “Passed out?” Beckett asks, talking about Mik.
She’s been stuck in her head, reliving memories since the minute she got here. She needs to take a break from the chaos, her mind can be a hellish space. She needed to breathe again.
Other than the occasional cigarette, I’ve always tried to stay clear of drugs, but Mik has been drawn to weed since I met her. It’s a love Beckett and her have shared, both of them trying to soothe their demons.
“Yeah,” I tell him, “Knocked out.” Mik’s sex euphoria normally puts her right to sleep. I, on the other hand, get energized. On another night I’d end up in my office, getting shit done, but tonight I’m aching to get back upstairs and feel her warm body next to mine.
It’s been so long since she let down her walls, let me in. I want to take advantage of every moment of it, in case she decides to build them back up again.
I take a seat on the loveseat across from Beckett. Pax finally stalls his pacing, instead moving to sit on the edge of the couch where Beckett is. All eyes are on Beck waiting to hear how his conversation with Mik went.
Of the three of them, Mik has always been most likely to open up to Beckett. Maybe it’s the lull of the weed or his pretty smile but either way it worked.
He sits up straighter, taking a breath for sharing. “She still doesn’t remember.”
Even though it isn’t news to me, relief still sparks in my chest. It’s been a whole year and Mik has barely even attempted to remember that night, to relive everything that happened. Even with all the pressure, with everyone begging her to say something, know something, she doesn’t try.
She goes to therapy, but I don’t think that has pulled anything out. No hypnotists. No doctors. Nothing else to try and recover what she’s missing.
I’m relieved though, I’d rather keep those memories gone forever.
“What else?” I ask.
Beckett breathes in deeply only to puff it out quickly. “She asked what I knew, I told her nothing. And she asked if I thought you did it.” He chuckles softly. “I told her you didn’t.”
I stand up, walking over to clap him on the shoulder. “It worked,” I tell him. “You did it.”
Beckett smiles and turns his eyes down, avoiding meeting my gaze. “She’s still fucked up, ya know.”
I know. I know better than anyone else what that night did to her. It took the woman I planned to marry and turned her into a shell of herself. Just a broken girl trying to figure out how to live post trauma.
Mikaela was never the type of girl who had her entire life planned out. She was barely trying to make it the next minute. She wore demons on her sleeves even though she had the type of life that should have made her happy.
Her demons matched mine in that way.
