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God, I'm such a selfish dick. Here I think she wants to talk to Mason because she already regrets her decision in choosing me. No, she wants to ask about her family. Of course, that is what this is about. Fuck, I need to get my shit together. I have never been so insecure, and I hate it. This isn’t me. I get what I want, and if I don’t, I take it. That’s how things started with us. She pushed, and I pulled because she would be mine no matter what, but now I find myself conceding to her every request.
I’ve just sat down on my leather sectional facing out toward the main window wall, bourbon in hand, when I hear her ask, "Can you put my mom on the phone?"
I study her body language. She is tense, and her body is clearly riddled with stress and anxiety. If the conversation I overheard her have with Mason is anything to go on, I imagine she's also feeling pretty lonely since the one person she used to run to isn't here.
"Okay, thanks, Mace. Thanks for everything." Her voice sounds weak and defeated, but I can tell she's trying to force warmth and gratitude into it all the same.
She simply stands there looking out the window after she hangs up, lost in thought. I'm about to ask why he didn't let her talk to her mom, but then she turns around, and when her eyes meet mine, I can't help but take a moment to admire her.
In front of me stands a strong woman who has pushed aside her own insecurities, which have undoubtedly formed her into the person she is today. I know choosing me meant burying the fears that held her back from putting herself first. I'm not the safe route. Unlike Mason, I'm new and untested, and I represent all the things she swore would be her ruin.
Gianna thinks she hides it well, but it's clear her basic physiological needs were always inadequately met. The woman is beyond beautiful, but I know she struggles with eating. The few times I've seen her eat, it's always a snack, never a meal. Whether that's due to a lack of availability or self-induced due to stress, I'm not sure, but now that she's with me, that will change. Her episodes are not normal. In training, it was a granola bar for breakfast, lunches were scones, and in the few dinners we've shared, she mostly pushed the food around her plate. Since she didn't even speak to her mom just now, I know her emotional needs are just as deficient. She is just barely holding herself together.
Standing before me, wearing my t-shirt with her long hair framing her tear-soaked face, I can't help but notice how vulnerable, how bare, how exposed she is to me right now, and I'm in awe. She is choosing to give me her trust and let me take care of her when she has nothing left to offer, and I want nothing more than to be that man for her.
When she starts to walk my way, I brace myself for the hit my senses are about to take. When she's near, I can't help but smell her, feel her, taste her, but right now, I want to be the man she can confide in, the man she trusts, the man she leans on.
I set my glass down on the coffee table before settling back into a comfortable lounge position. My goal is to look approachable and open to listening. Talking hasn't been our strong suit, but I want her to feel safe and cared for. I've just outstretched my arms over the back of the couch when she throws her leg over my lap, straddling me. Before I have time to process that move, she’s pressing open mouth kisses down my neck.Fuck.
"Baby, don't take this wrong, but I think maybe we should talk." I keep my hands on the couch because I know all hope of talking will be lost if I touch her. Any chance I had at being a better man will go to shit.
"I don't want to talk right now. I want to forget. I want the pain to stop. Please make it stop." She buries her face into my neck and then whispers in a shaky, sad voice, "Please touch me."
Bringing my arms up, I wrap them around her back and hold her. I'll keep her forever if she lets me. Every moment with her has been nothing short of genuine. I've never had a woman with whom I've felt such a soul-deep connection, who I couldn't bear the thought of not having. She is the one real thing in my world full of fake.
"Baby, if you don't want to talk right now, that's fine, but let me take you to bed. We need to get some sleep."
She nods in agreement, and I wait for her to stand, but she doesn't. A few more seconds pass before I realize she is not going to let me go, and that thought makes me happier than it should. I should be thinking about all the other things threatening to fuck up her life, all the things that already have, but my selfish ass can only focus on how she wants me right now.
Bringing my arms down her back, I sit forward with her on my lap, readying myself to stand while holding her. When I slide my hands under her ass to lift, I discover she's not wearing my boxers. I'm gripping her bare ass. I take a deep breath and try to calm my racing heart. This woman unravels me, she's everything I could have asked for, and because of that, I'm taking her to bed to sleep, nothing more.
Walking down the hallway toward the master with her wrapped around me, my hands still gripping her perfectly plump, bare ass, I try to ignore my arousal. The problem is she is making that close to impossible, especially when she nuzzles into my neck and places a kiss on my throat.
As soon as we enter the bedroom, I quickly place her down on the bed and pull the covers back for her to get under, but she stops my hand.
"August, you're already what I want. Can you please be what I need?"
Without hesitation, I answer, "Always."
The word leaves my mouth before I even have time to process it because nothing has ever been truer. I would do anything for her. Releasing my hand, she says, "Please." Before she slowly starts to lift her shirt off. With that, the last of my resolve is shattered.
Tearing my hoodie off over my head, I throw it behind me before making my way to her on the bed. I push her down gently and settle on top of her before kissing her long and slow. This is a moment I want to savor because, at this moment, she turned to me. At this moment, she trusted me with her heart. I've never seen Gianna as anything but beautiful inside and out. I would have never known how deep her scars ran were it not for the fact I wanted her to be mine.
If kissing away the pain also kisses away the self-doubt, uncertainty, and years of mistrust, I will gladly do it. I want her to see what I see. The strongest steel is forged by fire, and the hellfire she has endured has made her nothing short of a warrior.
Trailing kisses down her neck, I make my way toward her breasts, where I take a nipple in my mouth before she arches into me, forcing me to take more of her into my mouth. Looking up, I notice she has thrown her head back on the bed, and her eyes are closed. That just won't do. Releasing her nipple, I say, "Baby if you want me to keep going, I'm going to need your eyes on me. I want my girl to watch me take care of her."
What I said is only partly true. The main reason I want her eyes on me is so that she can watch me love her.
Once her eyes are back on me, I swirl my tongue around her other nipple in slow, methodical circles until I feel her hips buck against me, seeking friction. Smiling against her breast, I take the bud into my mouth and suck hard. She gasps, and I release her breast with a pop before kissing my way down her stomach until I reach my desired destination. Slowly I spread her thighs and place a kiss on the inside of each one before looking up and meeting her heated gaze. With my eyes locked on hers, I run my tongue right up her center. I watch as her eyes roll back, and she lets out a raspy, "God, yes."
Her legs start to tremble as I work my tongue in and out of her tight hole, and I know she's close. I add a finger and feel her immediately clench around it. Sucking her clit into my mouth, I gently bite down, pushing her over the edge, screaming my name through the throes of her orgasm. I continue to pump my finger into her as she rides out her orgasm while I lick up her sweet juices.
When I feel her start to come down from her release, I fully intend to look up and find her lying on the bed with her eyes closed, but she's not. Her eyes are still locked on me, hooded with desire.
Fuck me if that's not hot. She didn't just want me to make her feel good. This beautiful woman wants me, all of me. I get to my knees, shove my sweats down, and line up my throbbing cock with her soaked pussy. When I look down, I can't help but tease her and watch as I rub my tip through her wet folds before dipping into her warm heat.
"Baby, please," she begs, and my eyes snap to hers. That term of endearment from her lips directed toward me is all it takes to make me move. I’ll always give her what she asks for. Immediately I begin to sink into her, one delicious inch at a time. Slowly pushing in and pulling out to gain more depth as she acclimates to my size. My lips hover right above hers, and our eyes are locked on each other when I fully seat myself. We both moan out our shared ecstasy at the feel of me being buried so deep. I swear every time with her is like the first, and I have to do everything in my power to stave off my impending orgasm.
