by Hazel Grace
All I know is that I’m content with it. We haven’t spoken about last night, and it doesn’t bother me. I just hope she knows that if she wants to continue or not, I’ll accept it.
Fuck, at this point, I’d do a lot of shit to make her happy right now. Like a pussy-whipped bitch, and I didn’t even get to taste her yet.
“This is probably one of the most serene places I’ve ever been to,” she finally says in front of me. “And the most emotional for you, I’m sure. It must be hard always having it in your face.” My jaw ticks as my own events start to produce through my brain.
She isn’t wrong, I just don’t want to think about them. But without the occurrences that have taken place, within the darkness and rage that kept pumping through my veins, I never would’ve met Stormi.
And that alone, I couldn’t imagine not happening at this point.
She’s like a piece that I never knew was missing. It feels good when she’s around, warm even.
“It doesn’t always have to be,” I reply, stepping in line with her. “Things change.”
“They do.”
“Why did you come over here?” My voice is mild and genuinely curious as she wraps her arms around her body.
The coolness is starting to creep up through the late hours of the night, and I don’t have anything to block her from it but my arms.
“Because I was hot,” she states matter-of-factly then peers up at me. “And it looked like you needed a swim.”
The next thing I know, my body is hitting the chilly water before my feet hit the sandy bottom of the lake.
Breaking through the crest of water for air, I run my hands down my face to rid the water. When my eyes crack open, Stormi is on the deck, already lowered on her haunches, lofting over me.
“I’ve been wanting to push you in this lake since the day you tackled me on the grass over there.” She points down the shoreline, where I bear-hugged her and toppled us over onto the ground. “Figured I’d kill two birdies with one stone.
I perk a brow. “Killing now, are we, sweetheart?”
“Metaphorically, of course.”
“You mean when I took the brunt of the fall, and you had all your bodyweight on me and my injured shoulder?” Her face doesn’t show any remorse—it shouldn’t, I deserve way more than a knife and a tease of her body from last night.
“Serves you right, mister,” she confirms with a lift of her shoulders.
I swim towards her. “Why don’t you come in, the water is great.”
“Mhm—” She rises, not stupid enough to get within my reach to haul her in with me. “Looks like there are sharks in the water.”
I smirk. “I promise to protect you.”
“Says the shark to the little fish.”
“I dare you,” I deadpan, extending my arms and adjusting to the temperature. It’s not freezing, but I wasn’t hot in the first place.
“And what do I get?”
“Come in and find out.” I lean back, letting my body float on the surface and begin slowly paddling away from the deck.
I’m luring her in, I’ll admit it. The fact that I’m trying to make this look fun and casual is just to bait her to take a chance and jump in.
That and I want her against me again.
It’s all I can think about. It’s all I can feel, my body still reacting to the memory of her grazing her body against mine. Her soft lips coaxing and needy as I drive her into an orgasm.
I crave it more than any need to kill. This woman makes me feel like a battered wife, walking back into the throng of torment just to experience it all over again.
I meant what I said when she was doing just that. I don’t think anything else could compare to how she makes me feel. How she creates a sense of serenity that I haven’t felt in such a long time.
A small splash hits the lake, and I smile, repositioning myself to meet her jumping into the shark tank.
Because I’m starving.
“It’s freezing,” she exclaims, brushing away stray hairs from her face.
“Move around,” I tell her. “You’ll get used to it quick.”
She stands still, watching me loom closer as water trails down the side of her face and drips down her chin.
I think the moon has casted a spell or some shit because I’m hypnotized. I feel the pull and need to know how much I want to own her.
My hand extends to wrap around her bicep, and I pull her into me, lifting her by her ass so that her legs follow suit with circling around my hips.
“How did you plan on ending all this, sweetheart?” I ask her, studying how the light overhead casts down a blue haze over her skin.
“Ending what?” She props her arms on my shoulders for support that she doesn’t need because I wouldn’t let go if there was a gun to the back of my head.
“This suffering you’re putting me through. First last night...” I spread her ass cheeks apart with my palms. “And then humiliation by making me do a cartwheel.” She lets out a weak tsk. “Followed by similar payback by water, shoving me into this lake here.”
“It was...a friendly push.” Her voice is strained, and it does nothing to the strings of my rationality to not do something else more fun right now in this moment.
“Maybe I couldn’t swim.” I close in over her lips, waiting for her to pull, move, or push me away. “You gonna save me, sweetheart? Or watch me drown?”
I don’t bother waiting for a response because my lips already lock onto hers.
I don’t stop the emitted moan that escapes my chest. And I don’t trouble with telling my cock to chill out because all of this is futile. She pries something within me that begs to flourish and claim. It’s powerful and mind-consuming to where an alarm rings in my head to be careful, but it’s not loud enough.
And when Stormi opens her mouth wider for me to take—my ass can kiss that shit goodbye.
“We should stop,” I mutter against her lips, forcing the words to leave me like an exorcism. Everything about her possesses me into forgetting everything around me, us, everything that’s happened.
“If you want to,” she voices, still clinging onto me like a baby koala on a tree, and I’m not about to knock her off.
Even though I should.
“Don’t leave the ball in my court,” I counter. “This is...” Her lips gently graze mine, sending another jolt of lust to my groin. “Stormi, you’re fucking killing me here.”
“Wasn’t that what you said I could do?” Her tone drips innocence loaded with sugar and sweetness, but I notice she has something more unruly developing in her pretty head.
And I’m dying to know what it is she wants.
“You don’t have anyone to save you, sweetheart. We’re alone this time.”
She bobs her head. “I know.”
“And the things I’ve imagined doing in my head with you...let’s just say they’re not habitual.”
“You don’t want to do them?”
Christ.
My eyes fall shut because I do—I do want to do them.
I just don’t know if I can deal with regret outlining her features if we take this another step forward.
Emric’s face looks pained as he closes his eyes and inhales a deep breath that brushes along my breasts.
He’s treating me like a fragile doll and not a woman he wants to screw because he thinks I’m attractive.
We had a very odd and dark meeting, yes, he didn’t court me, and I didn’t fall for his corny lines. And maybe it’s because I’m not loud and have the confidence of a leper who could’ve bought more fitted clothing on our Walmart run. It could also be that he doesn’t want any strings attached because when this is all over, I go back to my life.
Whatever that’s going to consist of and something that I really need to start thinking more about.
However, in this exact moment, I’m in Emric’s massive arms being held up by him and gazed upon like I’m some fallen star out of the sky. That he wants to own and ravish for
only tonight, and I’m down for it—all of it.
I’ve kept myself composed and safe within relationships and life, never exploring too much out of the box. I want to discover what lies under one night with a killer who has a soft exterior beneath.
Emric’s eyes flutter open, and I’m met with mixed emotions on how this is going to play out.
I’m not sure of his fears, I’m not going to ask about them, but I am going to put my foot down. Even though my heart wants to leap out of my chest and my stomach is beginning to form a massive knot, I don’t want to let this point of time go without giving it a shot.
“Tell me you want me, sweetheart,” Emric finally says, squeezing my ass for emphasis. “And I’ll show you a few things that have graced my mind over the course of the last ninety seconds.”
Unwrapping my legs from his waist, he immediately lets me go as my fingers find the waistband of my sweats and underwear. Emric lets out an unsteady exhale, believing that I changed my mind because he can’t see what I’m doing underneath the water.
Sinking lower into the coolness of the lake, I ditch both articles of clothing and stand, watching Emric watch me through discouraged eyes. But when I leap towards him, he catches me immediately, grasping my naked butt.
His eyes widen in surprise. “Oh shit.”
“Your turn.” One of his hands promptly goes between our bodies as he begins to undo the button of his jeans. I kiss the rough and prickly stubble on his cheek, working my way to his ear to see if I can make him feel the same way I do when he whispers in mine.
Clasping my lips around his lobe, I feel his chest still as he continues moving his hand, his knuckles grazing my inner thigh as he attempts to make quick work of his clothes.
My inner fortitude keeps shoving me forward to keep working, using my tongue to tease as I drag my teeth down his soft cartilage.
“Fuck,” he growls, as his other hand pulls at the collar of my t-shirt. Exposing my skin, he gently sinks his teeth into my shoulder, following it up slowly with a lapse of his tongue then lips.
Retaliating his move, like we’re back at playing cards, I start a trail of kisses down the column of his neck.
Then he wins the hand.
The hardness of him grazes my clit. The velvet skin provoking me to let out a cracked moan as I tuck my face into the crook of his nape.
“Your turn,” he recites in that gruff tone that I was just talking about. It tickles some part of my brain that makes everything in me want to melt and swoon.
I draw back, ready to—I’m not sure what—when his fingers seize my jaw and haul me into his lips.
The kiss is raw and hungry.
It’s a battle of wills and morals.
An apology, forgiveness, and desire all combined into one mesh of tongues, lips, and teeth.
Emric feeds on every insecurity that I’ve ever had about a man or being wanted in general by the opposite sex. He implores that life doesn’t have to be me locked up in my bedroom and half-dreaming that someday I’ll be something I’m proud of.
It brims with possibility.
It’s made up of mistakes, chances, and going with the moments that are given to you.
Finding the flip side of the coin with someone you never thought in a million years you’d be with now.
Because never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be in the middle of a lake in the dead of night with a man made of tattoos and muscle as he drove me insane with his body.
A dude that, at one point, wanted me dead.
A mystery in so many ways, but yet we click like I’ve known him for years. When my self-doubt begins to kick in, he sucks it away with the way he looks at me.
Like I’m the best thing he’s seen in years.
Emric’s cock presses into the entrance of my pussy, and I hold my next exhale until nothing comes.
Instead, he begins walking towards the dock, nipping my bottom lip with his teeth. I’m suddenly lifted into the air, plopped onto the wooden boards, and leaning back as Emric demands my space.
Both of his arms straddle my body, keeping me in place as his tantalizing licks at my tongue has me clenching my thighs together. He hauls out of my personal space and spreads my legs, sandwiching himself in between them.
One greedy lick from my pussy to my clit, and I’m already climbing to my own fireworks show. One hand kneads my breast while he works me into a mess of tingles and shattered breaths.
“Emric,” I whimper, raking my fingers through his thick hair, encouraging him. The hand that massages and brushes my nipple comes up to my mouth.
“Marty,” he states, straightening his spine to align his eyes with mine. “Say my name.” His thumb pulls down my bottom lip and releases it.
His stare is unclad and vulnerable, creating a missing thud in my chest from my heart.
He is the most complicated and perplexing man I’ve ever met, and I feel as though no one has seen him like this in a long time—possibly never.
“Marty,” I repeat gently.
“And that’s the name I want you screaming when I make you come, sweetheart, got it?” I nod, excited, scared, and so not ready, but I’m holding this—us—with a death grip.
Emric—Marty, heaves me up into his arms and strides back into the lake until it has engulfed most of our bodies. My legs wrap around him again, and he positions himself underneath me, and slowly, eyes locked to my blue enters me.
My jaw slacks on its own with how he stretches me.
It feels good, Earth-shattering and, in an odd way, it makes me feel different.
Marty coaxes my lips open for his, sinking deeper inside me as I cling onto him for dear life—again.
Talk about coming full circle within weeks, it creates the thought that maybe I was meant to go through all of this for a reason. Marty was sent to give me an epiphany of some sort, and I can’t imagine myself ever going back to what I used to be.
“How is it possible that you feel better than I could’ve ever made up in my head?” Marty croons. “I have a pretty damn good imagination, baby.”
“It’s part of my plan,” I convey. “Sucking your soul and making you my slave.”
“Sex slave, I hope.”
“I don’t know—” I kiss the tip of his nose. “You haven’t shown me all you got yet.”
“I got more.” He sweeps his lips against mine, then slowly begins to thrust in and out of me. “A lot more.”
I arch my back so he can see my puckered nipples and have him hit a different angle within my body. “God...”
“Marty,” he counters, leaning forward to lick one of my nubs through my wet t-shirt before impaling me to the hilt. “Shit, Stormi.”
His speed and rhythm become erratic, our exhales blend together off moans and other guttural noises that I can’t describe.
We’re causing our own waves as Marty’s hand finds my back, pulling me closer so that he can look into my eyes while he screws every bit of the old me out. It’s the most intimate juncture of my life, and I don’t think there’s a chance of ever going back to so many different things in my life.
“We’re not done after this,” he growls in my face. “I’m going to fuck you every single way tonight until I’ve had my fill, and even then...I’m going to want you again.”
My body convulses from the intenseness of his tone. How he’s working me into a mix of pleasure and me about to lose my damn mind. How he craves me even before we’ve finished our first time together.
“Tell me you want it, sweetheart. You on all fours while I fuck you from behind. You underneath me, so I spread your pretty legs wide open to fuck with your clit.”
I bob my head, squeezing my legs tighter around him. “I want it. I want you to show me what you’ve thought about.” I press my forehead against his. “Everything, Marty.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t show you everything. There’s not enough time.”
Time.
It hits me like a slap to the face, jerking my head a
side and reminding me of what we are, who we are without each other, and what’s coming down the line for me in the future.
“Then give me something to remember you by,” I whisper.
He doesn’t speak anymore, neither of us do. Together we take what we can, riding out on each other to receive our fill.
Marty sends me nibbling kisses as he fucks me hard and without abandon as I hold on to what we have now.
And when we crash, he holds me tightly, keeping himself within me as though he never wants to leave.
I don’t want him to, but the aftermath starts to creep up the back of my head, reminding me of what’s to come.
I don’t regret him.
I think I’m starting to fall in love with him.
Cracking my eyes open, I stretch my legs and peer over my shoulder to look at Marty sleeping next to me.
Except I’m met by rumpled white sheets and an empty space.
The sun beacons beautiful light into my room as a smile begins to work it’s way up my face.
Last night was amazing, epic, something I’ll never forget as long as I live. Marty was nothing but a crazed animal, kissing, licking, biting, and fucking me until he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He whispered things in my ears that I never would’ve imagined being strummed through them.
He was still my tormentor.
But in a way that made my body sing and hum. He made me feel beautiful for the first time in my life. That someone actually wanted me for no other reason, but because of who I am. Marty didn’t hide his imagination. He wasn’t afraid to display and show me all the things he dreamt up in his head. And he didn’t hold back on anything he said.
Sitting up, I’m sore between my legs but welcome the ache that Marty left there. I throw on some clothes—a pair of jeans and a purple tank top—and make my way downstairs, anxious to see him.
Visions of him standing shirtless in the kitchen hit my brain, making breakfast and greeting me with that heart-melting smile. That alone works my body into a vicious cycle of need to where I’d hand him over anything.
