by Sweet, Izzy
Laughing a ragged laugh, he says, “Look at this bastard as he fucks you, Sophia.”
His breath as fast and harsh as his thrusts, his dark eyes bore into my eyes. “Look at him as he gives you what you need.”
Glaring up at him, I try to fight the pleasure I was so eager to take from him just minutes ago. Willing my body to turn off. Willing my anger to help me overcome it.
But each smash against my clit reawakens that desperate, throbbing need to fill the emptiness.
Until my hips rise up on their own, hungrily meeting the slap of his.
Focusing solely on getting what I want out of this, out of him, I start to claw at his back as my pussy clenches and squeezes hungrily around his thick shaft.
Warm, almost electric, pleasure buzzing through me again.
“Fucking hell,” he groans over the little moans that start to slip past my lips. “You like that, huh? You like it when this bastard hits that little clit?”
Pulling my knee up higher, he pushes forward. Rolling his hips and thrusting even deeper, he grinds hard against me.
Unlike the slamming, there’s no room to catch my breath. There’s just constant pressure and sensation.
And there’s something downright… primal about the way he fucks me. Grunting and growling as he throws everything into trying to push me over the edge.
He’s so feral with the exertion on his face and the sweat glistening on his skin, my heart skips a beat at the sight of it.
The knowledge that this act… No, that I have made him like this is my undoing.
Both loving and hating what he’s doing to me, I sink my nails into his skin and explode around his thickness.
The walls of my pussy pulse and milk every ounce of pleasure I can get out of him.
A breath later, he’s cursing. Every swear word known to man spilling from his mouth as he swells up inside me.
For a few glorious minutes, we’re on the same plane of existence. Trapped together in soul-crushing bliss.
Then it’s over as quickly as it started.
Coming back down from the high, I become aware of his weight bearing down on me.
It’s both comforting and alarming at the same.
Then I become aware of my nails still digging into his back.
He jerks as I pull them away.
But otherwise he’s still. Almost too still.
Head dropped forward, I can’t see his face as he pants, catching his breath.
Laying beneath him, without a word from him, I have the unsettling thought that maybe I did something wrong…
That now we’ve done this, he’s going to walk away again.
Why I even care now, I don’t know.
But I do.
I squirm uncomfortably then groan as a little aftershock flows through me, causing my pussy to flutter around him.
His head jerks up.
The look on his face…
Grabbing my hair, he pulls my head up and kisses me with so much need, so much passion, my toes curl and my pulse starts to race.
Just as I start to melt beneath him again, my stomach growls loudly.
Nipping at my lips, James chuckles before asking, “Hungry?”
“No,” I tell him and shove my tongue in his mouth.
But it’s a lie. I’m fucking starving now…
For him.
My stomach growls again, louder this time, and James laughs into my mouth. “It sounds like two aliens are having sex in your stomach.”
Peeling himself away from me, he grins down at me, his eyes alight with humor and…
Happiness.
A happiness that makes him look younger, softer, and sweeter.
And freaks me the fuck out.
Shoving him off me, I hear him grunt in surprise as I jump off the bed. Running to the bathroom in the hall, I slam the door behind me and lock it.
“Sophia?” he calls out, a touch of worry in his voice.
Leaning against the door, I close my eyes and try to get my panic under control.
I did not…
With James…
We…
Shit.
A minute later, the doorknob rattles as he tries to open it.
“Sophia?” he calls out again.
I ignore him, until I remember he has a way with locks.
When he calls my name again, I tell him, “I’m cleaning up, go away.”
The door makes a slight creak, as if he’s leaning against it. “You know… I could help you with that…”
Truly flustered and afraid he’s going to try to burst in and do just that, I say, “No, that’s okay. I’m a big girl, I can take care of this myself.”
When he rattles the doorknob again, I blurt out, “I’m really hungry. Why don’t you warm up something to eat?”
There’s a long pause and I find myself holding my breath, hoping he takes my suggestion.
Then the door makes another slight creak. “Alright. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
When I hear him finally walking away, I let out the breath I was holding and close my eyes, trying to relax.
But no matter how hard I try, I can’t get my heart or breathing to slow.
Because I have no clue how I’m going to get him out of my house now. Not after having sex with him like a total dumbass.
7
James
Sophia carefully opens her mouth to take a bite of the warmed casserole I tried to feed her earlier, and as her lips close over the fork, her eyes widen just enough to show she’s surprised by the taste.
Damn, I want those pink lips wrapped around my cock. I want her fucking cramming that soft pink tongue back down my throat.
My damn cock hasn’t been soft since we fucked and it’s killing me.
She’s back to the baggy t-shirt and leggings, but I can still remember each and every curve of her body. I can remember the way her pale skin flushed when she was close to reaching her peak. The way her firm breasts seemed to swell as she tipped over the ledge.
Fuck.
It’s taking everything in me not to jump over the counter and fuck her senseless.
She pushed me though and that has me holding back. She pushed me as hard as I pushed her.
I’m not entirely sure I’ve ever been pushed to fuck like we just did, or if I’ve ever taken a virginity unwittingly like that.
In the back of my mind, I knew she was a virgin, but… It honestly didn’t come to the forefront until I had already thrusted past her hymen.
Before that, all my animal brain was thinking was me, her, and sex.
Taking a chick’s virginity isn’t something I’ve made a habit of. In fact, I prefer not to be the first. In my experience, there’s always too much baggage attached to the act. Affection, feelings, trust, and the eventual betrayal when they realize you’re not going to stick around.
I learned that the hard way back in high school when a chick keyed my car and dropped a steaming pile of dog shit through my moonroof. That BMW never smelled the same. Especially because it was a swelteringly hot day in the middle of Louisiana.
I should have thought about it with Sophia, though. Dammit. All I’ve thought about is protecting her… and I do this.
But she drives me fucking crazy. So fucking crazy I can’t think straight.
And she was pushing all of my buttons. Pushing them as if she knew exactly where each one is. And she tasted and smelled so damn good.
She smelled sweet, with the promise of something… darker. I can’t place her scent, honestly. It’s fucking heady and fills me completely whenever I’m near her.
After the months and months of isolation, of self-denial… I feel like this breath of fresh air I’m finally experiencing is as dangerous as can be.
I really don’t know what I’m doing beyond trying to cage her in as mine forever.
She’s got me all kinds of fucked up, and I’ve cooked for her. I’ve never cooked food for a woman I’ve fucked. I don’t do it because it only invites the same shit as
taking a virginity.
Shit.
Does she hurt down there? I seem to remember hearing something about the first time hurting for a woman...
And now I sound like a goddamn high schooler.
I need to get my shit together. Not that she’s even paying attention to me with the way she’s fucking scarfing down the plate I sat in front of her. That’s what happens, I guess, when you go however many days she did without eating something.
Standing up from the island in the middle of the kitchen, I head over to the fridge and peek my head in. It’s official, I’ll need to move us tonight no matter what. My cabinets are already stocked at home, and after depleting her food supplies, we need to boogie on out of here.
Sophia isn’t going to like it, either. Even after scratching that little itch among many itches, I know she’s going to throw a fit. It’s going to be rough as hell.
“Sophia,” I say, getting her attention.
“What?” she asks, finally looking up at me.
“We’re leaving here tonight.”
“No, we are not. There is no we doing anything,” she insists, slamming the fork down by her empty plate. “You go.”
If she didn’t look so damn cute when she did that, I’d probably be able to keep the grin off my face.
I can’t though, and her gorgeous blue eyes turn dark as fuck as I stare at her.
Raising my hands up in a placating manner, I say, “This isn’t up for debate. This house is no longer safe. Too many people know you live here now.”
“Because of you!” she screams at my face from across the island.
She’s so angry I can almost feel the heat rising inside her.
“No, because your father was a public figure. Because he had dirty sharks swimming all around him in the precinct,” I say as quietly as I can.
I’m trying to speak in calm tones, not matching anger with anger. That’s how you get people to calm down.
Sometimes that is.
“Because of people like you!” she bellows and picks up the fork she just slammed on the counter.
Looking from the fork to me, I can’t tell if she wants to stab me or throw it at me. I haven’t had a chick manage to stab me yet, but I’ve had a fork thrown at me a time or two.
I manage to say, “Sophia,” before I have to duck away from the flying fork.
Well hell.
Standing back up, I shake my head at her.
“Grow up,” I snip and turn to walk away, hoping some space will cool her down.
Hot coffee splashes against my back and a mug arcs over my shoulder a split second later…
Yep, she’s really pissed and isn’t going to make this easy.
Turning my head back to her, all of a sudden I remember standing in Lily’s kitchen. Peter and me. We’d just told Lily to pack her shit and get ready to move. She didn’t take that too well and I got a nice little burn on my neck from it.
Funny as fuck back then.
Now that it’s my woman throwing shit at me, not so funny.
Peter called Lily a Hellcat.
I wonder what he’d call Sophia if he was still around.
Damn. I miss him and Paul. Two men who were closer to me than anyone else. And both gone way before their times.
Sighing quietly, I turn to Sophia and say, “We’re leaving in an hour. Anything left will be packed and brought over later. Pack light.”
I just put the shirt I’m wearing on, but now it’s soaking wet. Pulling the shirt over my head, I toss it toward my bag in the living room.
Might as well get dressed to go.
I hear Sophia following behind me as I move through the room. Stopping behind me as I bend over and pull a fresh t-shirt and pair of jeans out of my bag. I don’t bother finding a different room to change in and I don’t bother to face her as I push my sweats off my hips.
Stepping out of the sweats, I drop them in my bag.
I hear her take a small breath to speak to me only to stop when I straighten and pull my jeans up my legs. Yeah, my naked back has a way of doing that to women. It’s mostly the scars. Well that and my fabulous ass.
“Your back…” she starts but stops to make a little choking sound. “You’re not wearing underwear.”
I pull the new t-shirt over my head and down my torso. “I rarely do.”
“Oh,” she says as if she’s a little surprised, and then I can feel the atmosphere get heavy all of a sudden. “I’m not leaving here.”
“You are,” I say, then growl quietly to myself when my phone starts blaring.
Looking at her over my shoulder, I say, “You. Pack. Now.”
Pushing the connect button on the phone, I put it up to my ear. “What’s going on?”
“You’ve got incoming company. We tried to head him off, but that Trent guy is coming down your street right now,” Uriel says.
“Fucking hell,” I growl louder and glance at Sophia. It’s obvious she’s still very pissed off and raring for a fight. “Alright, moving the timetable up. Get some interference ready and I’ll call you as soon as we’re out.”
I end the call and focus all my attention on Sophia. “Your old boyfriend is dropping by soon.”
It takes her a moment to figure out I’m not continuing our fight.
Then she asks, “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Trent Morrison,” I say and drop to the couch to put my shoes on.
“Trent?” she says with a roll of her eyes. “He was never my boyfriend. And what do you mean he’s dropping by?”
“We’ve got guys outside, driving around. Remember?”
“Yeah, but… Dammit, can you get rid of him?” she asks me with a small sigh.
“Yup.” I stand and point at Fluffers. “Pack what you need and get your cat. We gotta move.”
She shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest. “No. You can go and take Trent with you.”
“Not happening, babe,” I say then look over at Mitzy. “Time to go home, girlie.”
Still laying on the old recliner, Mitzy’s head pops up. She looks from me to Sophia then puts her head back down.
“Don’t even start acting like you’re going to stay, missy,” I growl at my princess before devoting all of my attention to Sophia again. “We need to move, now. If Trent is coming, whatever shit he’s got going on is going to follow in his wake.”
“What does that even mean?” she asks in a huff.
We’re wasting precious time but I look at her evenly. “It means Trent and TO Dickers are dirty as fuck and I don’t trust them.”
Narrowing her eyes at me, she growls, “How do you even know that? Trent’s just some glory hunting cop, he’s not dirty.”
“Bullshit,” I spit out then march my ass past her, heading for her bedroom.
“Where the hell are you going?” she demands, following after me.
“If you’re not going to pack for yourself, I will,” I explain and can’t help but smirk. “I’ll make sure to only pack your thongs.”
Screeching out at me in wordless anger, she races past me, but stops short when a loud pounding on the door breaks through our little slice of hell.
“Fuck,” she groans. “Is that really him?”
“Yeah, I guess online shopping and movers will have to do.”
Turning back around, I make a quick stop at the bag in the living room to pick up my Glock.
No sense in dealing with this shit unarmed.
“What are you doing?” Sophia hisses at me.
“Making sure you’re safe and he doesn’t get any stupid ideas,” I say calmly as I shove the gun into the back of my pants and head to the front of the house.
Yanking the door open mid-pound, I see surprise register on Trent’s face.
Neither of us say anything for a full minute.
I know Sophia is somewhere behind me, to my left, and that’s good for two reasons. He can’t see her and she won’t be in the way if I have to shoot him with my right
hand.
“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Trent finally bellows at me and reaches for the gun on his hip.
The fucking dickface isn’t in uniform though, and I don’t see any other identifying items stating he’s police. Now that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s not on duty, but it’s enough for me to assume he won’t just shoot me.
Well… at least I don’t think he will.
I gotta give Trent credit for whipping his gun out as fast as he does. I wouldn’t have been able to get mine from the back of my pants as quick.
But I don’t need it right now.
Not with the ways his hands are shaking.
The stupid fuck also has his safety on.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean against the doorframe and smile at him. “Howdy.”
Aiming the gun at the middle of my forehead, he yells, “Where’s Sophia?!”
“She’s inside. Cleaning up after…” I trail off and smirk, letting him think what he wants to think.
Now I’ve seen people turn some ugly ass red colors before, especially when they’re being tortured or something. But this guy’s as red as anyone I’ve ever seen. Like a tomato that’s too ripe.
And I bet his head is going to explode any second.
“Get down on the ground now, asshole,” he snarls at me.
“Nah,” I say and uncross my arms.
Marching up to me, he puts the barrel of the gun right up against my forehead. “On the ground now!”
I’m sure he’s done this before with a uniform on, and the person probably dropped quickly to their knees.
But that shit ain’t happening here.
“Oh my god!” Sophia screams as she steps around me. “Trent, what the hell are you doing?!”
“Stay out of this, Sophia, dammit!” Trent yells right back while stupidly taking his eyes off his target.
Moving my hand up, I grab his wrist and yank down and forward. Then I pull it under my armpit and slam my other hand under his elbow.
There’s a nasty loud popping noise quickly followed by a gut-wrenching screech of pain.
Trent drops to the ground, clutching his now broken elbow.
Stupid fucker never identified himself as a cop, was on private property, and had a deadly weapon pointed at my head. Not a damn prosecutor in the state would try to charge me. Especially since we own just about every single one of them.
