by Alexa Riley
It’s been so long since she let me touch her. I hate what drove her into my arms today but I’m glad that she’s here. That even if she was pissed at me she knew I would take care of her. I would always be there for her.
I’m on my knees in front of her washing her long beautiful legs when she looks down at me. “Tell me you love me,” she says.
“I love you, Jeanette.”
This has become our thing now. I didn’t know how she would react the first time I wanted to say it, so I held it in. I didn’t want to scare her off, so I just kept it to myself and tried to physically show her how I felt. Instead, my sassy Mama gave me the cockiest look I’ve ever seen and said “tell me you love me”. She knew exactly what I felt and wanted to make me admit it. It was a crossroads for us. Either I submitted to her and said it or I held my ground. I didn’t have a single doubt in my mind which path I would take. If I had to crack open my chest and give her my heart, that’s what I would’ve done.
She hasn’t said it back to me and I don’t know if she ever will. It’s not in her nature to give something up so easily, so I know if the day comes, she’ll mean it.
I keep washing her legs, and she starts running her fingers through my wet hair. I close my eyes and enjoy her attention while reminding myself of what could have happened, and how lucky I am she’s here with me.
“I think my heart died about a thousand times while we were searching for you,” I tell her.
“Good thing it didn’t. I happen to really enjoy our shower time together, so try to keep that ticker going, okay?”
I rest my forehead on her lower stomach and kiss the smooth skin there. I take a deep breath and wrap my arms around her. “I grew up living with my grandmother,” I say, and I feel her stiffen. It takes a second before she relaxes again and goes back to stroking my hair, and I keep talking. “My mother was a prostitute and had no clue who my dad was. She got into drugs when I was little, and at some point my grandmother found out and came to get me. My mom would visit when she could, which wasn’t much. But I remember she always loved how I could make her laugh. So every time she came over, I would do whatever I could to get her to smile. I remember thinking if I could make her pain go away, or make her forget for even an hour, then that’s what I needed to do.” Jeanette remains quiet as she plays with my hair and the warm shower steam surrounds us.
“The last time she came to see me, I was 12. I tried all day, and I couldn’t get her to crack a smile. Nothing worked, and when she told me goodbye, she cried a little. I knew that would be the last time I would ever see her, and it was. She killed herself the next day and it broke my heart.” I look up to see Jeanette gazing down at me and we lock eyes. “I blamed myself for a long time for that, but I know there was more to it than me. It took me years to understand that it wasn’t my fault, and it was her choice. Maybe there’s still a little part of me that will always need you to laugh and smile so that I know you’re okay, but no matter what, I need you to stay with me. Got it?”
She gives me a sad smile and nods her head. She touches the side of my face with her palm, and says, “I got it, Michael.” I know when she says my real name she means business, and I’m so relieved.
I stand up and help her out of the shower, drying her off first and then myself. I go over and she wraps her arms around my neck and I lean down grabbing her ass and picking her up. Jeanette wraps her legs around me and I silently carry her to the bed. When we get to the edge, I let her down and I kneel beside it in front of her. I put my forehead to her stomach again and wrap my arms around her waist. I hug her like that for just a moment before I lean back on my heels and look up at her. “What does my Mama want?”
“Get on the bed on all fours, Saint. I need to feel control right now.”
“You got it, baby.” My cock is already hard and pointing at her. My piercing is like a star on top of a Christmas tree, just waiting for praise. I stand up and she looks down at it with a big smile. She knows all she has to do is look at me and I’m done. Anytime, anywhere, I’m hers to play with.
I crawl on the bed and get on my hands and knees.
“Spread your legs a little. I want to see everything from behind.”
I spread my knees further apart and feel her get on the bed behind me. I’m nervous about exactly what kind of mood she’s in, but I know whatever it is, I would give it to her.
I feel her hot breath on the backs of my thighs and then her warm, wet tongue licking there. Her hands come around and rub my legs, slowly working her way to my cock.
Jeanette’s tongue works its way up to my ass cheek and suddenly she bites me there.
“Fuck!”
“God, I love your ass,” she murmurs, and I can hear the smile in her voice. She bites me hard, but it feels so good to have her mouth on me.
I feel her kisses move and then she licks my balls. “Goddamn, that mouth of yours,” I breathe. I feel her hands on my hard shaft. She works my cock with both of her hands and sucks my balls from behind. I leak precum all over the bedding and I’m so scared I’m about to blow a load in under sixty seconds.
I feel her mouth move and the warm tip of her tongue is tracing my asshole. “Jeanette!” I shout, but she doesn’t stop. She loves pushing my boundaries, and allowing her to do that makes her feel like she has the control. I close my eyes tightly and give myself over to the sensations. They are so foreign because no one has ever done that to me, and it feels so good. She’s gives my ass tentative licks and I start to shake. Suddenly, she uses her fingers to pull on my cock piercing, and I can’t think.
“Mama. Oh God, Jeanette. I’m gonna…”
I’m unable to finish the sentence before cumming all over her hands. Big, thick, streams of cum coat her fingers and I hear her giggle of satisfaction at my undoing. She fucking loves to make me cum on myself.
I collapse in a heap on the bed and I feel her climb over my body. “Get it back up, Saint, my pussy needs some attention.”
I laugh and roll over on my back showing her my still-hard cock. “Please. Like this thing ever goes down when you’re near me. Plus, I haven't had you in months. I’m sure the thing will stay up all night for you.”
She gives me a sad smile, as if remembering that she’s been fighting me.
“True. I do love that magic stick of yours,” she says and winks lasciviously at me. She glances over at the nightstand and I know what she’s thinking. I clench my teeth to stop me from telling her “no” but she reaches over, opening the drawer and pulls out a box a condoms. How they got there I have no fucking idea, and I want to curse whoever put them there. I haven't fucked anyone since I laid eyes on Jeanette, and I sure as hell never fucked her with a condom. The only woman I’ve ever had bare is her—my woman. Not that I slept around a lot before I met her, but every now and then when I did hook up, it was quick and just for one night.
She grabs my cock, slips on the condom and hovers over it before plunging down on it in one swift motion. “Fuck, yeah, I love this big cock,” she moans and starts to ride me hard. I pull her body down to mine so I can suck her nipple rings. I know just how she likes it and I feel her honey coating my dick in satisfaction. I claim her mouth and grip her hips, helping her get what she wants.
Suddenly I can’t stand it anymore and I lift her up off my cock.
“Saint, what are you…”
I switch positions so she’s on the bottom and I’m on top, and I move down to her pussy. I have to taste her so I can have her smell on my face when I fuck her. It drives me wild.
Her pussy is swollen with need and I know she’s so close to cumming. “Just a taste, Mama, you know I’ve got to have you on my tongue when I’m fucking you.”
I dive into her pussy and get it all over my face. I lick and suck her fast because my cock is dying to get back inside her.
“Oh, fuck! Saint, get in me! Now!”
I pull back and sit up, rip off the condom, and then line my cock up at her entrance again. I send my dick home
in one long thrust, and she shouts out my name. I fuck her hard because it’s exactly what she needs right now. She needs to feel the excitement and adrenaline. Jeanette wants a reminder that she’s alive and in control, and I’m all too willing to give it to her.
Her hands come up and grip my hair. She counters my thrusts with hers and we fuck like our lives depend on it. I lock eyes with her and she nods her head. She’s close, but doesn’t want to ask me for it. She just wants me to do it. And I will. If my Mama wants to cum, she gets to cum. I won’t tease her unless that’s what she wants. With me, she never has to ask.
I reach down and strum her clit with my thumb. It takes three strokes before I feel her orgasm start and her pussy begins to squeeze my cock. Her legs lock and she throws her head back, shouting her release. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than my girl getting off.
Her orgasm triggers my own and I spend inside of her. Jeanette’s hungry pussy sucks every drop out of me, and I can’t hold my weight off of her much longer. Once I come back to earth, I roll to my side and immediately pull her to me so that we face each other.
“Thank you,” she whispers, barely loud enough for me to hear. I play with her hair and pet her body as she drifts off to sleep in my arms.
JEANETTE
It’s been too long since I’ve woken up in Saint’s arms. That feeling of being utterly safe—I haven’t felt that since I lost my parents. I roll over to see his face. He looks like he’s been thoroughly fucked. I guess he has been. I can’t remember how many times we went at it through the night. I would attack him only to be woken up hours later with him pulling me back on top of him. One time I passed out on top of him with him still inside me, only to be woken when he started thrusting in and out again. I wanted to imprint him on me. I almost want it so I can’t run from him again.
My Saint. He was nothing like I was prepared for and everything I could have dreamed of. He would come into the library while I was working. He would just brood in the corner. I didn’t know why he came in all the time, and he seemed so out of place. He was dark, and held an edge to him. Every time I looked at him, my nipples hardened. That was all it took to get me going: one look.
He was the kind of man I went for. Well, the kind I went for now, anyway. I thought I had him all figured out. It drove me crazy at first when I couldn’t get his attention. I made frequent suggestive comments to him but he never reacted. He was always so focused on his laptop, working away for hours on end. And then, like clockwork, he would look up and scan the library. His eyes would pause on me for a moment, but then quickly moved on. His gaze never lingered on me long enough to make me think he wanted more.
Little did I know he was well aware of me. It became quite evident when he grabbed me one afternoon, pushed me up against one of the bookshelves and asked “Do you wear those fucking skirts to drive me nuts?” I simply pushed him back against the stack of shelves behind him. I reached under my skirt and pulled my thong down my legs. I handed him the fabric, but before he could respond, I walked away. “I won’t tell if you smell them,” I tossed over my shoulder. I saw him from the corner of my eye as he put them to his nose. Dirty fucker.
We had plans for a date soon after.
Lays told me I should watch out for him. She said he looked like a man who would keep me if he wanted me, regardless of my thoughts on the matter. But I don’t let men keep me anymore…or so I thought. What do moms tell their daughters? To stay away from those bad boys. Even my own mother told me that. The difference between the bad boys and the good boys is the bad boys show you who they are. They don’t hide their true nature behind a suit, impeccable manners and a few college degrees. Nope. You know what you’re getting with them. All I ever wanted was a good time, to show myself I was free after I got out of Nick’s grip, but Saint made me want more. I got a taste of it with him, and those dreams I had pushed down for so long started to rise again. Saint made me think I could have what I always wanted, what had been ripped away from me. And then, when some of the truth came out, I thought I’d been tricked once again—tricked into believing something that wasn’t real, something I could never have.
I felt gutted when I realized he’d entered my life under false pretenses. I went and fell for another man who was hiding who he really was. This time the betrayal hurt worse because I actually loved Saint, and I wasn’t supposed to be that dumb girl anymore. I was strong now, independent. I used men. They didn't use me. I always liked the sweet, smart guys. It’s why I went for Nick, but with Saint, I got it all: the bad boy who was so good to me. I didn’t even know how to react to the things he did for me. And talk about smart. Saint was as fucking sharp as a goddamn blade.
I don’t know how he did it. He bulldozed into my life while still letting me feel like I always had control. How he does this I have no idea. I tried to shake him loose at first, but then he started throwing those “Mamas” and little jokes at me and he had me caving every time. But when I found out he was in my life because he was watching Lays for Carter, I lost it. I wanted him gone. I didn’t want to look at him because it reminded me of all of it—of how I was made a fool of once again. But the worst part was that it drove me crazier when he was gone. And then I only got madder.
Saint couldn’t win either way. He’d show up and I’d give him hell, or he wouldn’t show up and I would just be more pissed the next time I saw him. I was miserable and I wanted him to be miserable with me. But every time I tried to hurt him, it was like he didn’t care. It wasn’t that he didn’t care because he was done with me, but because if I wanted to throw blows, he was more than happy to take them for me. All this did was make me love him more. See? Sharp as a fucking blade.
Stretching one of my arms, I can’t tell if my body is sore from last night’s marathon fucking or because of the hits I took yesterday. It doesn’t really matter. I enjoy the burn. The aches Saint left on me might be sweeter, but the ones I earned yesterday reminded me that, this time, I fought back. I didn’t run.
Slinging my leg over Saint’s body, I move closer into his embrace. When he found me yesterday, when I saw he came for me, I knew it was time to stop fighting him. It was time to stop hurting us. Life is too short. Saint is nothing like Nick. He wanted to save me from pain not cause it. For a moment I thought my life was splintering apart again, that the loss of control was slipping through my fingers once more. There’s nothing like thinking you have no power. It’s an all-consuming fear. But deep down I know Saint would pick up my splintered pieces and put them back together again. Or help me put them back together if I let him. If I let him in. I can see now I’m fighting the inevitable. Because I think he would wait forever for me.
“You look like you’re thinking really hard, Mama,” he says, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“You knew you would get me back, didn’t you?” I whisper, not looking up at him. He knew I would be back in his arms.
“I’m pretty sure I told you that the first night I had you, or rather you had me.”
I can’t help but laugh at the reminder. I did have him. With the bad boys, they don’t like when a woman takes control in the bedroom. I’m normally okay with that because, hell, it’s only one night. As long as I cum, what does it really matter? Not Saint, though. His surrender was real. I told him to get on my bed and hold the headboard because I was going to fuck him, and he did it without pause.
He’s also right about being his that first night. At first I thought they were words said in the heat of passion, but come daybreak, Saint’s naked ass wouldn’t leave. It became impossible to kick him out because he would drop to his knees and growl, “Mama,” before shoving his mouth between my legs. Then I found myself saying it was time for him to go just so he would do it again. The joke was on me.
“I love you,” he whispers. I know he does. I also know I’ve never said it to him. Climbing on top of him, I straddle his hips, look down at him, and finally say it. “I love you too.”
A smile pulls at his lips, a
nd crinkles the scar on his cheek. “I know you do, Mama.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, playfully slapping his chest.
“Can’t make someone tell you they love you.”
“I make you tell me all the time.”
“Different, Mama. Everyone knows I love you. Ain’t no hiding it.” True. Saint seems to have no shame when it comes to me. I love that about him. Never do I have to choose my words with him, or pretend to be something I’m not. He would never cut me down or make me feel less than I am. It’s ironic that, while Saint might be on his knees for me, he’s the one with all the strength.
“We’re going to do this aren’t we? The whole babies, marriage, happily ever after?” I say, getting serious again.
“Told you that the first night too. Only thing now is you gotta let me give it to you.”
He’s right. It’s time. He told me about his past, and it’s time for me to tell him about mine.
“You know, I don’t have parents anymore either.” I feel his hands tighten. I never talk about my past. He knows what’s coming.
“They died when I was nineteen—my sophomore year in college. Car crash. The cops told me they died on impact.”
“Oh, Mama,” Saint murmurs, and starts to rub my legs.
I can feel the lump forming in my throat start to rise. All these years and it’s still hard to talk about.
“They were wonderful, Saint. Perfect. It was just us. Both of them were only children and their parents passed when I was a kid. We were this perfect little family, just the three of us. Then I was all alone. It was hard at first, but I had friends who helped me get through it. My family wasn’t rich by any means, but they did okay. I was set up after their deaths. I could stay in school, not have to worry about working. But I was lonely.”
Leaning down, I lay my head on Saint’s chest. I don’t want to look at him for the next part.
“Nick was perfect too…in the beginning.” Saint wraps his arms around me and holds me in place.
