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It feels wrong to be discussing death like it’s the weather, but I need to talk about what happened. Otherwise, it might eat me alive. A calmness blankets us, and I lean into Drew’s side, pressing my head against his bicep. Our fingers are laced together, and all I can do is stare down at them.
He’ll never hurt anyone ever again. It’s over. I’m bitter that his death was so quick when my own mother had to suffer for years through hers, but at least he’s gone.
I don’t even realize we’ve pulled up to my house until the car rolls to a stop, and Drew gives me a nudge on the arm. I sit up straight and give him a smile. He thanks the driver and opens the door, but he doesn’t let my feet touch the ground.
He grabs me by the waist and tosses me over his shoulder, carrying me into the house, and I don’t even object. There’s no point. He walks inside like he owns the place, and the guards don’t even blink in his direction. We make it to my bedroom at breakneck speed, and I let out a short laugh when he plops me down on the bed. He turns and slams the door closed behind him, flicking the lock into place.
“Now,” he says and turns back to face me before stalking back over.
Gently, he sets our phones on the bedside table. If I didn’t know him I’d be skittering away by the feral glint in his eyes. “I know there are a million things to be said, and that a lot happened tonight. I also know you’re mentally and physically exhausted, and that you’re most likely pissed off at me. I owe you answers, and an apology but I’m begging you. I’ll give you all those things, but please, right now, I need to touch you, feel you, to make sure you’re really here with me and that this isn’t a dream.” There’s a note of pleading in his tone, and I know this is something we both need.
I gulp hard, and give him a nod. “Oh, I’m more than angry, and we will have a conversation about how you can make it up to me, but for right now, you can start by touching me.”
He does exactly as I ask and roughly shoves my thighs apart, the gauze of the dress stretching across the space. I let out a gasp but am prepared when he throws back the material so he can step between my bare thighs.
My phone vibrates on the bedside table, and with an irritated huff, he snatches it up. I’m about to tell him my passcode when he enters it with a wink.
Of course he knows my passcode.
“It’s a text from Sebastian. He says the doctor is taking my mom back to the hospital.”
Immediately, I’m filled with concern. “Do you want to go? We can get a ride back.”
Drew shakes his head. “I can check on her in a little bit. There’s nowhere else she would be safer than in the hospital, and I’m not a doctor. Plus, all I need right this second is sitting in front of me.”
He quickly texts back and then tosses my phone on the far side of the bed. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let me look at you.”
I shove the worry and concern for his mother to the back of my mind and shift so he can access the zipper on the back of the dress.
He peels the bodice off from around my shoulders and down to my waist. Then shoves the bra straps down my biceps and tugs it off at my elbows.
Goose bumps erupt across my skin, and he rubs his hands up my arms to warm me. It’s not necessary, not with his fingers pressing into my flesh and his eyes locked on my bare chest.
“Look at you. Still so fucking beautiful even after all the destruction and chaos,” he whispers. “Do you have any idea how strong and amazing you are?”
As if he can’t get me out of the dress fast enough, he tugs it down, ripping the material in his haste. It doesn’t bother me. I’d be fine if he burned the damn thing. I never want to see it again.
“You too,” I whisper, grasping his tuxedo jacket at the collar to shove it off his broad shoulders. I tug at the loose bow tie until I can strip it away and start on the buttons in a long line down his chiseled chest.
He tugs his shirt out of his pants and I rip it off his arms leaving him in his slacks. His shoes and pants go next until he’s standing in front of me in nothing but black boxer briefs. Damn he looks good. He always has but now, now that I know how so completely he is mine, he looks even better.
I swallow hard and meet his eyes. “Touch me.”
He licks his lips. “I’ll touch you but we are going to do it my way. You trust me with your life, now trust me to give you what you need.”
I lean forward, hoping for a kiss, but he just flashes me a quick smirk and sinks to his knees in front of me. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life worshiping you, and proving how much you mean to me, and I can’t think of a better spot to start than right here.” He grabs me by the ankles and tugs me forward, roughly placing my legs over his shoulders. “Now be a good girl and let me please my pussy.”
Psh...I laugh. “Did you just say please your pussy?”
He smirks and it hits differently as I meet his eyes over the curves of my body. Damn he’s beautiful, and free. So free, like a bird escaping a cage. I speer my fingers through his dark hair, as he places a kiss to the inside of my thigh.
“Yes!” He whispers, almost to himself. “Mine. My pussy.”
There’s an urgency to his words, to the way he touches me, like he’s afraid I might disappear beneath his fingertips if he doesn’t hurry.
His fingers sweep through my folds, moving lower, and then all at once he enters me with two thick digits. I’m not quite wet enough for the rough treatment but the slight sting and the way he does it with absolute confidence means I take it anyway.
“Fuck...” I hiss out, throwing my head back, squeezing my eyes closed.
