by Kay Maree
His cock spasms and jerks inside me; the last of his come spilling inside of me while he continues to thrust gently, coaxing the last of my orgasm from my body. We're covered in a fine sheen of sweat, our joint releases spilling from my depths. My head rests heavily on his shoulder as we both fight to catch our breath. I don't know how long we stay like that, me wrapped tightly in Ryker’s warm embrace while he strokes his hands over my sides, my back, and my ass, whispering sweet nothings in my ear.
If it were up to me we would stay like this forever. That said, sex is messy, so it isn’t long before Ryker rolls us to our sides ad exits the bed to retrieve a washcloth to clean me up with.
“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” he says as he kneels at the side of the bed.
A wave of humiliation hits me out of nowhere, I shouldn’t be embarrassed, Ryker has just had his hands, mouth and cock on every inch of my body, but I can't help but feel more than a little exposed.
That’s when Ryker smiles at me, parting my thighs of his own volition and gently strokes the warm cloth over my oversensitive flesh. “Gotta take care of my girl, baby. You don’t know this about me but you’re gonna have to learn; you come first in all ways. In bed and out of it, I will always see to your needs. You’re gonna have to get over being shy, sweetheart because intend to do things to you that’d make a nun blush, and that’ll only work if you’re open to me and all the ways I can pleasure you.”
My cheeks heat but I can’t help feeling intrigued, which also happens to be my last coherent thought before I drift off to sleep cocooned in the safe harbor of Ryker’s arms.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She ~ Green Day
RYKER
It’s been a little over six hours since I’ve had the taste of my girl on my tongue and I feel like a fucking junkie craving a fix. Thoughts of Seraphina assault me as I lean back in my chair with my eyes closed and my head resting against the wall. Image after image of her body accepting all of me, her tissues stretching as I plunged into her tight, wet heat has my cock stiffening painfully. The taste of her sweat coated flesh with a hint of vanilla drove me wild, had me fiending to take her over and over again like an animal. Once was never going to be enough. I knew I should have taken it easier on her, allowed her body the chance to rest, to heal after taking me so beautifully, but I couldn’t control myself. And thank fuck for, Seraphina not wanting me to.
Flipping her over to her stomach, I pulled her up to her knees, face pressed into the mattress as I gripped her luscious hips and drove home. At first, I thought I had pushed her too far, gone at her too hard when a soft whimper slipped past her lips, but evidently I was wrong because seconds later, she followed it up with a throaty moan. Thrust after thrust, Seraphina’s body took everything I had to give until she seemed to be craving every savage thrust of my hips. And fuck me if that wasn’t a heady feeling.
Her demands for more was music to my ears. All thoughts of easy, soft, slow were obliterated when she begged me to claim her and make her mine. Didn’t she know she already was, that I do any-fucking-thing for her? Right that very moment, I promised myself if she didn’t she soon would.
My heart thudded at Seraphina’s easy acquiescence at my commands. It was a good sign that she loved what I did to her body and seemed eager for more. I knew I needed to introduce her to my predilections slowly, but I couldn’t be happier with her willingness to please and openness after she got over her initial embarrassment.
Post-sex discussion had, I went on to explain that nothing we did was shameful. Her wants, her needs, her desires and fantasies, nothing was off limits. I told her that there would be no boundaries between us, no act of intimacy we would try to ascertain what she liked and what she didn’t. As a novice, Seraphina was mine to teach, mine to cherish and mine to educate as to all the ways in which her body could be used to achieve pleasure so great it would make her head spin and her toes curl.
I explained hard limits, gently prodding to see if there was anything she was fervently opposed to. I asked if she would let me experiment with ass play, teasing her, stretching her open for me with the hope to one day fuck her there. Interested sparked in her eyes at the suggestion, but there was hesitance there too. I promised we would work up to it, go slowly until she was ready to take it further. To that, she readily agreed and goddamn if that didn’t make me the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet.
“Boss,” an irritated Jack growls as he stands in the doorway of my office, looking at me like I kicked his puppy. Biting back a chuckle because I know exactly why he’s pissed off - bitch duties will do that to a man, especially a narsisistic one - but ask me if I give a fuck. He deserves everything he has coming to him and then some, and while I may not be able to fire his privileged ass that doesn’t mean I have to be nice to the prick.
“What,” I snap, unwilling to deal with his piss poor attitude today.
“The boys are ready for the morning briefing,” he grunts before turning and stomping off.
Fuck, was I really that lost in my memories of last night and my breakfast this morning whereby I laid Seraphina out on the kitchen counter and licked syrup off her delectable tits? Damn straight I was. That’s no excuse for forgetting where I am though, or maybe it is. Who knows, I’ve never had a woman worth risking distraction for before. That said, I really do have to get my ass in gear and finish reading last night’s shift report and follow up with the tear down and clean up from the picnic yesterday.
Running my hand across the back of my neck, I exhale heavily, relatively certain that today is going to be a long fucking day that will test the limits of my patience. All that and it’s not even ten o'clock yet.
“Motherfucker,” I grumble fully aware that I need to haul ass and put the boys to work inventorying the trucks and rechecking the equipment. Just because we aren’t out fighting fires doesn’t mean we haven’t got shit to do. In actuality, time spent at the station house is usually busier than being on site. Paperwork, strength training, cleaning, re-calibrating the SCBA - self-contained breathing apparatuses - online refresher courses, all of that has to be done in the downtime we have before the tones inevitably drop.
My cell vibrates in my hand as I go to stand. Flipping it around, I smirk seeing Seraphina’s name flash on the screen.
*Seraphina: Are we still on for dinner tonight?*
*Me: Depends, are you on the menu or should I pick something up?*
It takes a few seconds but the little dots on my screen start bouncing up and down indicating she’s writing back. I chuckle when the dots stop then start again twice as if she doesn’t know what to reply. If I were a better man, I’d say something to save her from the embarrassment I know she feels at my blunt question, but I have to admit, part of me, the smug part kind of wants to see how she handles herself. Because let’s be honest, a few suggestive text messages is a far cry from what I intend to introduce her to when the time is right.
After a little more time my phone vibrates again and I can’t hold back the laugh that rumbles through my chest. Her first reply is full of blushing emojis before another response follows quickly on its heels.
*Seraphina: Um...I hadn’t planned on being, but maybe for dessert if you play your cards right.*
*Me: I’ll pick you up at 7. Chinese takeout and a movie at my place work for you?*
*Seraphina: I can pick something up if you tell me what you like.*
Yeah, that isn’t happening. I like providing for my woman in all ways. Be it food, flowers, making sure her gas tank is full, I plan on catering to her every whim whether she appreciates it or not - something Seraphina will come to learn and hopefully accept about me given enough time.
*Me: I’ve got it, baby. Just text me what you want and I’ll pick it up when I’m done here and meet you at home.*
*Seraphina: Fine, caveman. I’ll be waiting with bells on.*
*Me: Sarcastic doesn’t suit you, babe. Be ready at 7 and pack a bag. You’re sleep
ing in my bed tonight.*
Pocketing my phone, I have to stifle a laugh at what I can only assume is the look of shock on her face when she read my demands. What can I say? I know what I want, and I refuse to apologize for not pulling any punches on my path to get it. After having Seraphina in my bed and her waking up warm and pliant in my arms, there’s no way in hell I’m spending the night without her. Not tonight. Not any night from here on out.
I flick the light off, shutting the door behind me heading for the bays where the guys are no doubt gathered and waiting impatiently for me to get this show on the road.
“Why are you smiling like the cat that caught the canary?” Reuben smirks from his position reclined against engine three.
“Are you as dumb as you look, or just stupid?” Kael questions, shoving his shoulder hard enough to have Reuben sliding across the highly waxed side of the truck.
“Stupid as my middle name in high school when I let that chick with braces go down on me behind the bleachers, but I’ve outgrown that phase unlike some people,” he retorts.
“Jesus, I forgot about that. She tore your shit up and you whined like a bitch for days.”
“You would’ve too. My junk looked like the victim in a slasher flick for fucks sake.”
Kael chuckles at his description as do Matt and Braydon. Andre remains silent but it’s evident he finds their banter hilarious if the look on his face is anything to go by. It’s only, Jack who appears disgusted with Reuben’s story, but that’s no surprise. Jack’s sense of humor leaves a lot to be desired on the best of days.
Just as I’m about to hand out today’s assignments a series of tones drop, signaling a two-alarm fire. It’s a common mistake to make that that’d mean two station houses are being called into action, when in all actuality it just means that a blaze is big enough to require two engines.
“Suit up. Kael, Andre, Jack, you’re on engine two. Me, Reuben, Braydon and Matt will take engine three. Kael, secure the north side of the scene. Use the truck to block traffic if you have to. We’ll meet you there” Without hesitation the boys gear up and mount up, both engines rolling out of their bays within two minutes of getting the call.
Both trucks pull up to the residential house fire ten minutes later. Located on the border of Lubbock and Wolfforth counties the new development is packed full of cookie cutter homes and young families. The affordable price tag, good infrastructure, newly erected elementary school and ease of access to I62 has made it a popular with those wanting to purchase their first home and put down roots. It also makes it a fucking nightmare in times like these.
People are gathered on their front lawns, phones in hand filming as their neighbors house is reduced to a pile of ashes. Kids peer out windows, the curtains parted, their noses pressed to the glass. Thank fuck they’re inside, though. It wouldn’t be the first time we showed up to a scene where kids were right in the midst of the action.
“Engine two’s in place blocking Wisteria Ave northbound,” Kael informs me. “I’ve got Andre on containment while bitch-boy talks to the neighbors either side.”
“Good,” I nod. “Braydon’s got the hose. Reuben’s doing the sweep. Once Bray’s got it under control, I’ll get a hold of the investigator on call and get him out here to do his inspection.”
Kael stares at me thoughtfully. “No way this isn’t arson. The oldest house in this development is barely three years old.”
“You won’t get an argument from me, but we’ve gotta do our due diligence. State policy requires us to call them out, so that’s what we’ll do. I just hope that fuckwit, Hudson isn’t on duty.”
If it wasn’t bad enough, what with the Mayor being Jack’s old man and all, the Chief Fire Inspector also happens to be his Uncle. It wouldn’t be so bad if the asshole, Albert Hudson wasn’t such a lazy motherfucker, but I’m yet to see him do a goddamn thing besides show up and throw his weight around. More often than not, it’s us doing his job for him. We find the point of origin. We determine if an accelerant was used. We backtrack the progression of the fire. In short, me and the boys do it all and he simply signs off on whatever the fuck we write in our reports.
“Preach it brother,” Kael fist bumps me before heading back to corral the boys.
My job as Captain of Station forty-four isn’t as hands on as I’d like it to be. Gone are the days where I’d suit up and run into burning buildings alongside my guys. Now, I sit my ass behind a desk dealing with bullshit politics and red tape, coordinate rosters with training activities. The times I do get to respond to fire alarms it’s more observational than anything else. I determine the extent of the fire, condition of building, danger to adjacent buildings, and locate the water while directing the crews onsite. On the rare occasion - there’s been two such times in the last eight months I’ve been Captain - that my turnout gear gets a workout, I’m not on the front line. I go in behind one of my two Lieutenants and assess the situation without any of the fun of actually battling the blaze.
“Cap’,” Andre addresses me, coming to a stop beside me with a furious expression on his face. “Some of the witnesses saw a dark truck, dual-cab parked in front of the house for twenty minutes or so before the fire started. They didn’t recognize it or get the tag number, but they did confirm it didn’t belong.”
I shake my head. “Any other specifics?” I ask distractedly, watching as the house some poor family busted their asses to make a home is reduced to a pile of rubble.
“Needle in a haystack,” Andre says, confirming my suspicions.
“Since every second vehicle in Lubbock county, fuck, in the whole state of Texas is a fucking truck, I’d say that’s a vast understatement.”
“I’ll keep asking around, but that’s the consensus so far,” he offers.
“Ask the parents if you can talk to their kids, they might have been more observant than their folks,” I suggest.
Andre tips his head in ascent. “On it.”
Making my way toward, Reuben who’s just exited the house via the rear entrance, I signal for him to hand his helmet over. “That shit,” he goals, gesturing to the burnt remains, “is eerily fucking familiar.” I don’t speak, instead I let him go on sans interruption. “The point of origin was five-feet from the back door and whatever accelerant was used it burned hot and fast. Whoever set this fire intended it to do maximum damage in the least possible time. House in Coronado, office fire on Memphis Ave, another house in Chapel Hill, that storage facility off North Cedar, the apartment fire near Mackenzie Park last week, now this one.I hate to say it, Ry, but if we look at the pattern my gut tells me we’ve got a serial arsonist on our hands.”
Motherfuck me!
Experts might say differently, but I can tell you from experience that there is no one more dangerous than a serial arsonist. Especially this one, if that is in fact what we’re dealing with here. This guy, whoever he is has absolutely no regard for human life. The fires he set weren’t at times of the day where the owners or employees were absent from the premises. In several of the instances Reuben mentioned, one if not more people were inside when the blaze began. Thankfully, the residents managed to escape unharmed but it could have easily been a different outcome altogether if they hadn’t been diligent in replacing the batteries in their smoke detectors.
“Gentlemen,” Albert Hudson addresses us both as he sidles up to us.
“Al,” Reuben replies fully aware Hudson fucking despises nicknames.
“Mr. Sommerfeld,” he dips his chin at Reuben, a scowl firmly affixed on his pudgy face. “Captain Storm, I assume you have everything under control here?” He says condescendingly.
“Reuben is in charge of downgrading the scene, but it’s safe to say that unless the homeowners have a meth lab or a cache of explosives in their non-existent basement, fire’s in decay.” My response is brusque. But what does this asshole expect? He’s useless on a good day, and I don’t fucking appreciate him talking down to my men.
Ignoring me completely, Hudson turns to Reuben. “Would you agree with this assessment Mr. Sommerfeld?”
“Growth was fast. Fire was almost fully developed by the time we got here. Doesn’t help that the homeowners were out and the neighbors didn’t call it in straight away, but it’s not the first time it’s happened, either.”
Reuben speaks the truth. You wouldn’t believe the number of incidents we’ve attended that could have been contained with far less damage done to the property if it was reported sooner. Don’t ask me why they weren’t because I don’t have the first fucking clue, but needless to say they weren’t, which in most cases meant the dwelling ended up being a total loss.
“Well then,” Hudson huffs out. “I can only hope my investigation is in line with you assumptions.”
See, fucking asshole.
Cutting him off at the knees before he can dig himself an even deeper hole with my volatile friends, I suggest, “Your nephew’s around somewhere. Get him to walk you through the scene and then tell him when he’s done to come find me.”
Hudson sneers at me before waddling off to find Jack which should hopefully keep him busy for a while because fuck knows where that idiot got to.
“He has a death wish,” Reuben states matter of factly.
“No, he’s an entitled asshole with a superiority complex. For pricks like that, us little people don’t factor so they figure they can talk to us however the fuck they like. His brother’s the same way,” I reply, referring to Mayor Anderson Hudson.
“Maybe so, but after what he did to Amity a few days ago, my desire to curb my homicidal tendencies is at an all time low.”
Genuinely curious, I ask, “What’d he do?”
