Breaking the Seventh

by Allie Gail

  “Feels good, doesn't it? Yeah, I know you like this. I know what you’d like even better though. This tight little pussy would feel so much nicer squeezing my cock instead of my fingers. Don't you think?”

  My only response is a soft moan as I shiver all over, not from cold but from sheer longing. I want him desperately. This man brings me to heights of arousal I never would have believed existed.

  “Or maybe you don't think you can handle it?” he teases.

  My eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and when I turn my head I realize that he's stripped down to nothing as well. Yum. Naturally my gaze drops to the jutting erection he's sporting, and my hands develop a mind of their own. To hell with his rules.

  Shaking his head, he backs away just out of my reach while clucking disapprovingly. “You moved your hands.”

  “You usually like that,” I point out with a smirk.

  “Now, Melanie. You already know that you’ve been a very naughty girl. I'm afraid there'll be no screaming orgasms for you tonight.” Strolling over to the opposite side of the bed, he flops down on his back beside me and laces his fingers casually behind his head. “C'mere.”

  I take that as an open invitation to straddle his hips. He grins up at me, his eyes twinkling like stars in the night sky, and for one startling moment he looks just like the exasperating teenager that used to irritate the crap out of me. He hasn’t really changed that much. And I have to finally admit to myself that I’ve always found him handsome. Though back then, I’d sooner have swallowed a live scorpion than acknowledge that fact.

  “I’m not impressed with your willful behavior,” he announces, raising one eyebrow. “Not one little bit. I suggest you come up with a way to rectify the situation.”

  “What did you have in mind?” As if I didn’t know.

  “You could make amends by relieving some of this tension for me.”

  Smiling sweetly, I skim my fingers lightly up and down his erect cock. “And how exactly would you like for me to do that?”

  “I don’t give a damn how you do it, pussycat. Just get it done.” The mischievous grin broadens. “But as your punishment, you aren’t allowed to come. So keep that in mind.”

  Hey, now wait a minute here! That really is cruel and unusual punishment. “And if I do?”

  “Then I take all the batteries in the house and hide them. And you spend the night in the dark. Alone. How’s that strike you, little miss?”

  “You do realize there’s a light on my phone,” I inform him snarkily.

  “Think your cell phone battery can outlast this storm?”

  I decide it isn’t worth mentioning that I could just as easily recharge it in my car. Obviously he isn’t averse to playing dirty. Well, if it's stress relief he's craving, I’m pretty sure I can rise to the task.

  And when I take his full length into my mouth, the tightening of his muscles and the hiss that escapes his lips tell me that he won’t be tense for long.

  “Ahh…that’s it, baby girl…” He reaches down to work his fingers through my hair, guiding my rhythm with his hands. “That’s it. That’s a good girl. Take it like you mean it. Own me, baby.”

  I moan from somewhere deep in my throat as I slide my lips up and down his thick erection. The act itself is getting me hotter by the minute. He tastes so good, all warm and clean and male. He tastes like Shane, which is a flavor I’m growing to crave even more than chocolate fudge brownie ice cream.

  Using my tongue, I tease the sensitive underside of his shaft and mentally congratulate myself when he growls a curse underneath his breath. Clutching my head between his hands, he increases the tempo with rigid thrusts that indicate how close he’s getting already. Part of me wants to stop right now, because I am aching for my own release. I’m horny as hell, desperate to feel him inside me, filling me, fucking me, making me his.

  But another part of me revels in his intense pleasure. So I don’t stop. I keep going.

  Even when he warns me in a low, breathy voice, “Sweetheart…oh God…I’m about to come…”

  Even then I don’t stop. I don’t pull away. Even though it’s something I’ve never done before, at least not to completion. To me, the idea of having that in my mouth was always kind of icky. But I find that for him, for Shane, I want to. I want every part of him reaching every part of me. There’s nothing icky about it. Nothing weird or uncomfortable or unpleasant. It seems like the most natural thing in the world.

  “Ah, fuck…Melanie, baby…”

  He is panting shallow groans as he erupts against my throat, and the intense spasms are yet another turn-on for me. I suck him zealously, relieved that the taste is not as bad as I anticipated. Actually, it doesn’t really have much of a taste. The thick texture is the hardest thing to get past, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.

  When I’m satisfied that he’s good and spent, I lift my head with a complacent smile. He is gazing at me, but in the darkness it’s hard to interpret his expression.

  “Would you say I’ve made adequate amends, sir?” I ask coyly.

  He pulls me into his arms with a soft laugh. “Above and beyond, dearest. Above and beyond.”

  “Good to know. And from here on out, I promise I will never again question your methods of discipline.”

  “Good to know,” he repeats, sounding amused.

  I snuggle into him, resting my head against his chest so I can feel the pulse of his heartbeat. Lucky bastard. He is nice and relaxed, while I am left frustrated and still highly aroused.

  I distract myself by listening to the tempest outside. The rain seems to have subsided for the time being, but I can hear the wind even through the storm shutters. It’s whooshing through the trees, shaking and battering the branches. I hope Shane was right when he said there are none close enough to fall on the house. I don’t relish the idea of being squashed in my sleep.

  “Will you stay with me tonight?” I ask quietly.

  “If you want me to, yes.”

  “I want you to.” Hesitating, I add, “If you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “It’s just…you know. This weather makes me kind of nervous.”

  “You don’t have to be. You’re safe here.”

  I breathe a sigh, relieved to know that he won’t leave me alone. “How high do you think the winds are right now?”

  “Mm…I’d say it’s gusting about forty. Fifty, tops.”

  Only forty or fifty? It sounds so much worse. If it’s this rough now, what will eighty-mile-per-hour winds be like?

  I don’t have much of a chance to dwell on it. All apprehension vanishes when Shane’s fingers slide between my thighs to caress me lightly. Arching my back, I bite my lip with a blissful whimper. Yes! He isn’t going to leave me hanging after all.

  I instinctively reach for him again and to my surprise, he’s already semi-erect again. A thrill of desire overtakes me. It’s exhilarating to know that he lusts for me as much as I do for him.

  He rubs me in slow-moving circles, deliberately keeping my looming orgasm at bay. I’m right on the threshold, but it’s as if he senses that and backs off just before I can get there. I swear if I don’t come soon, I’m going to spontaneously combust. Now I know what a case of blue balls must feel like.

  He stiffens quickly in my hand, and I spread my legs eagerly when he moves to position himself on top of me. Finally!

  Taking his cock in one hand, he rubs the satiny head against my wetness, taunting me, and I feel like howling with carnal desire.

  “Do you want me, naughty girl?” he murmurs, brushing his lips against mine.

  “Yes. I do. So bad.”

  He flicks his tongue out and licks me playfully. “Mm. I don’t know. You’re still being disciplined, remember?”

  “Shane, so help me God, I will smother you in your sleep…”

  “Shh.” He presses a finger against my mouth. “I might consider deferring your punishment. On one condition.”

  “What’s that?
”

  “Earlier today you made it perfectly clear to me that you belong to no one. I happen to believe you were mistaken. Therefore, I’d like to hear you revise that statement.”

  Raising my eyebrows, I blink at him in astonishment. “Uh. Come again?”

  “Sweetheart, coming again is a given. But I won’t repeat myself when we both know you heard what I said.”

  What sort of coercion is this? Of all the dirty, manipulative tactics! I am all set to protest when he leisurely pushes his way inside me and frankly, at this point I am prepared to offer him my bank account, book copyrights and firstborn child.

  I wrap my legs around him and lift my hips, but he remains resolutely still.

  “Tell me again. Who do you belong to?”

  “Dammit, Shane…”

  He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back into me, and my cry of ecstasy betrays just how easily I will be swayed.

  “Let’s try this once more.” Pumping his hips, he orders me between forceful thrusts, “Tell. Me. Who. You. Belong. To!”

  “You!” I gasp, teetering on the brink. “I’m yours. I belong to you. I belong to you, Shane Becker.”

  “That’s right,” he whispers. “Don’t you forget it.”

  I tangle my fingers in his hair, welcoming his tongue in my mouth as he kisses me deeply, and every molecule in my body screams in a frenzy of rapture as I succumb to a mindblowing, staggering orgasm. I’m coming like I’ve never come before. Wave after wave of the most incredible, intense pleasure rocks through me, curling my toes and quivering my thighs, pulsing and throbbing, going on and on and on for longer than I would have ever dreamed possible.

  Don’t you forget it.

  His own gratification doesn’t lag far behind. I tighten my legs around him, squeezing my internal muscles, milking him of every glorious drop of him as he throws his head back and growls my name into the darkness.

  Laughing quietly, we slide beneath the covers, kissing and clutching one other even in our exhaustion.

  Outside, the wind grows stronger. But safe in his arms, I sleep the peaceful slumber of the dead.

  Peaceful, tranquil and serene.

  That is, until the nightmares return.

  “Are you ready yet? The movie starts in half an hour. We need to get going.”

  Madelyn’s distant voice floats to me through the eerie silence of the house. I groggily turn my head to search for her. She is just across the room from me, but she sounds so far away.

  The repetitive ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer is unsettlingly louder than it should be.

  Everything else sounds muted, as if my ears are plugged with cotton. Penny, the five-year-old Madelyn is babysitting for the night, is charging from one end of the house to the other, pretending she’s a horse. Her small feet clomp lightly against the hardwood floors. Back and forth she gallops. The muffled sound fades in and out.

  Back and forth.

  Back and forth.

  Gallop. Gallop. Gallop.

  I have a foreboding sense of déjà-vu. This has all happened before.

  “Where are Mom and Dad?” They should be here. We are all supposed to be going to the movie theater together.

  “They’re coming,” Madelyn assures me. “They just went to get you a caramel macchiato. It’s your favorite, you know.”

  “Are we ever gonna go?” Penny halts her cantering to complain. “I’ve been waiting to see this movie for-EV-er.”

  I can feel my forehead break out in a cold sweat. Something is wrong. We can’t leave. I don’t know why, but we can’t. There is a reason we shouldn’t go outside but I can’t seem to remember what it is.

  There’s something out there. Something terrible. I don’t know what it is, but I know that it is bad. And I’m afraid. I’m afraid for all of us.

  We will all die if we go out there.

  “No,” I tell Penny hoarsely. “We can’t go outside. We need to stay right here.”

  “Let me just get my purse,” Madelyn says, ignoring me.

  A sudden violent banging startles me. The front door shakes as the Something-Bad pounds on it from the other side. My heart lurches sickeningly against my chest. The bad thing is trying to get in. I am trembling and sweating in terror. My legs are weak, threatening to buckle beneath me.

  “I’ll get it,” Penny sings, and she skips through the foyer towards the door. Her curly blonde ponytail bounces behind her. It is tied with a blue ribbon. She is so small. So innocent. So trusting.

  “No!” I try to reach her but I can no longer move my feet. They are impossibly heavy, like they’ve been encased in blocks of concrete. I have to stop this, but all I can do is plead desperately, “No! You aren’t supposed to open the door! Please, you can’t let it in…”

  Madelyn shakes her head in annoyance. “It’s time to GO, Melanie. Aren’t you ready yet?”

  “Don’t – you can’t, you don’t understand…” I fall to my knees, sobbing in despair. Because I already know that it’s too late. We have all been condemned to death. Why wouldn’t anyone listen to me? “Please…don’t…”

  Penny slides the deadbolt back and twists the doorknob with both hands as I close my eyes and scream.

  “DON’T OPEN THE DOOR!”

  ~ Chapter Twenty ~

  “Uh-uh. No…”

  The soft mumbling drags me out of hibernation, and I force my groggy eyes open just enough to peer through my lashes at Melanie.

  She’s facing me, still curled up by my side with her eyes shut – at least I think they are. It’s hard to tell in the darkness. The digital clock on the weatherband radio reads 7:17 A.M., but the shutters covering the French doors prevent the early morning daylight from coming through. Not that there’s likely to be much light in this shitty weather.

  Blinking a few times, I adjust to the room’s dimness and confirm that yes, her eyes are closed. She must be talking in her sleep. I hope she managed to get more shuteye than I did. I must’ve been jerked awake half a dozen times during the night by Elliott, who is by now pitching an all-out conniption fit. Every time his angry winds pick up a stray object and send it flying into the aluminum storm shutters, the clang reverberates in my ears.

  How in the world is she sleeping through all this?

  Stretching carefully to avoid waking her, I roll on my side so I can study her at my leisure. Fully naked, her hair splayed out over the pillow, she’s breathtakingly beautiful. There’s something about seeing her in this vulnerable state that brings out my protective nature. She looks so fragile and innocent. Even though I know she's always been a tiger in a kitten’s body, I have the craziest urge to wrap her in my arms and shield her from the world and all its perils.

  Funny, considering I used to be one of those perils. I once put a mousetrap in her desk, for God’s sake. Nearly broke her finger.

  Boys do stupid things when they’re in love.

  Her eyebrows twitch into a frown, and she mumbles something that sounds like, “Nuh. Don’t…”

  Don’t what? I sure would love to know what she’s dreaming about. Maybe I should try asking her a question, just to see if she’ll answer.

  I'm contemplating the entertainment value of this when her eyes fly open, and suddenly she’s staring at me in disoriented alarm.

  “S’okay, baby.” I put a reassuring arm around her, figuring the wailing tempest outside must have spooked her. “Sounds worse than it is.”

  Jerking out of my grasp, she pushes herself upright and looks around, her wide eyes darting from one corner of the room to another. That’s when I notice the way she’s breathing. Faster and heavier than normal.

  Concerned, I sit up and rub her back lightly. “Melanie? You all right?”

  “I have to get out of here.” Her voice sounds robotic, and I wonder if she's still half asleep.

  I reach for her hand and she pulls it away, but not before I notice that her cold fingers are trembling. “You just had a bad dream, baby. It’s okay.”
r />   For a minute she doesn't respond. I'm just about to suggest that we try and get some more sleep when she throws back the covers and hops out of bed, muttering, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  “Here. You'll need this.” Reaching beside me to grope for the lantern, I switch it on and pass it to her. Distracted, she takes it and hurries away.

  She's back in less than two minutes, wrapped in a terrycloth bathrobe and making for the hallway without so much as a backward glance.

  “Mel?” I tumble out of bed while making a grab for my jockeys, nearly tripping over them in my attempt to yank them up and catch up to her at the same time. “Wait a second! Hang on. I can't see.”

  She does wait for me in the hallway but when she turns her head to look back, her agitation is obvious. The rapid heaving of her chest indicates that she is also on the verge of hyperventilating.

  “Honey, look at me.” I cup her chin in my hand gently. “Tell me what’s wrong. Did you have a bad dream?”

  She lifts her gaze and I give her a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t matter. Her blank eyes don’t even seem to see me.

  Spinning around, she takes off in the direction of the living room. “I have to get out of here.”

  “What? Melanie, wait!” Following at her heels, I have to jump in front of her to keep her from snatching the front door open. Her knuckles are white from clutching the lantern’s handle in a death grip. “Where do you think you’re going? Stop for one second and think!”

  Wetting her lips, she shifts her weight nervously from one foot to the other. Back and forth, like a jittery little girl who can’t be still.

  “Listen. What do you hear?” I point to the small panes that flank the front door, the ones that were too small to worry about covering. “Take a look outside. Tell me what you see.”

  She doesn’t bother looking. When she replies her mouth literally quivers, as if she’s about to cry. “I know. I know. I just have to go outside for a minute. Just for a minute, okay? I can’t breathe.”