To Hell and Back

by Leigha Taylor

  “I want you to know I’m absolutely sure about this. I feel so comfortable with you, so safe. I just want to be with you, even if it’s only for tonight or for this weekend. Even if it’s to the sound of drums,” I giggle.

  “Fuck, Angel. Even when you’re giggling you’re sexy as hell. Come here,” he growls at me. The careful touches and the fear on his face are gone. “That’s the last time I want to hear you talk about the end of us. I am with you for as long as you will have me. I don’t have to wait years or even months before realizing this is special. I know how I feel when I’m around you. I’m here because the day we met I felt a connection. I don’t want you to think I see you as a wounded bird, or that I’m only here to feel like some kind of hero. You’re the hero, Brie. You have survived a life with the Devil incarnate and come out on the other side. I’m just a guy who was in the right place at the right time. A guy who found the perfect girl hiding behind a million layers of armor; a girl with brick walls a mile high standing between her and the rest of the world. How do I know we’re right together? I see past the walls and through the armor. I see you, Brielle. I see who you are, and I see who you can be. I’m grateful to have the chance to stand next to you as you begin to see yourself the way I do. I’m crossing my fingers that when you figure out how wonderful you really are, you will still want to be with me.”

  “I can’t imagine ever changing my mind, Carson. Not ever.”

  I gasp as he picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. There are no more words, just us giving in to what our hearts and bodies are asking for. His lips are against mine and his hands are sliding up under my skirt to hold me. The thong panties I chose for tonight leave me bare to his hands. The feeling of his intimate touch on my body is foreign, but, my God, it’s hot.

  He carries me over to the bed and leans forward until I feel my back against the soft mattress; his lips never break contact with mine. Leaning back, he looks at my face, a dark expression in his eyes. He brushes my hair off my forehead and runs his hands down my body until they reach the tie at the waist of my dress. Still looking at me, Carson says, “If I do anything that makes you nervous or uncomfortable, I want to know. This should be all about pleasure, Brie. I’m learning about you as you learn about me. I want this to be perfect for you. Let me love you. Let me show you how good this can be.”

  As he talks, he undoes my belt. He unties the bow holding the panels of fabric together and exposes my stomach, my breasts just barely contained in the thong’s lacy counterpart. He draws in a breath and I’m pretty sure I hear him say, “God, you’re perfect,” just before his lips touch my belly button. He trails slow kisses up my body until he reaches my throat and spends some time making my neck and earlobes feel loved. The feeling I get from every kiss, every touch, is intoxicating. We’ve barely begun and I can feel my panties getting soaked. My nipples have become hard pebbles, straining almost uncomfortably against the binding fabric of my bra. I don’t even realize I’ve made a sound until Carson says, “Angel, that is the hottest thing I have ever heard. Everything about you is perfect. Thank God I found you, Brie, thank God.”

  He works his way back down to my chest and reaches around my back to lift me up a bit. I feel the slightest twinge in my ribs, but the adrenaline soaring through my aroused body makes sure it’s instantly forgotten.

  I raise up on my elbows as Carson unhooks my bra. I pull one arm, then the other, out of the dress sleeves and bra straps. I lean back and lift my lower half in the air so Carson can pull the dress from underneath me. Now, I’m lying here in only my panties, but the feelings of apprehension and self-doubt I thought I would feel aren’t there. Instead, I feel loved, cherished, and hungry for more.

  Carson leans over me again, my dress and his shirt now but a memory. Holding my breasts in his hands, his thumbs gently brush my nipples and I close my eyes, letting the incredible sensation wash over me. I gasp as his hot mouth closes over one; first he’s gentle and then the pulls are harder just before I feel his teeth scrape lightly against me. I feel a chill as his lips leave me, but soon the other is receiving the same treatment. I squirm and pant beneath him, the sensation from his assault on my breasts is felt throughout my entire body. Every pull of his mouth is like a cord, an intense shock, pulling directly on the nerves of my center. The core of me is becoming hotter and wetter by the second. I had no idea I could feel like this and it’s all before he ever reaches between my legs. For the first time, I feel like a living, breathing, sexual woman. I’m accepting that I have the right to be loved, to be touched in a way that gives me pleasure instead of pain. This doesn’t feel dirty or wrong, instead it’s incredibly sensual and liberating.

  I feel Carson’s fingertips brush across my hipbones and then gently tug at the elastic of my panties. I lift again, but, once I’m completely bared to him, I instinctively press my legs together.

  Carson moves his hot hands outward and gently pulls my legs away from one another. He kisses the inside of each thigh and looks up at me, saying, “Open for me. I want you to relax. Don’t think, just feel.” I comply, and as my legs fall away from each other, he stokes the outer layer of my sex. “My God, Angel. You’re amazing.”

  His fingers are replaced by his tongue; the gentle touches are followed by a long, slow lick up the center of me. I gasp, jerking off the bed a few inches at the sensation. When his tongue reaches my most sensitive area, his mouth closes over the swollen bud and sucks gently. Electric sparks shoot through my body I’m sure that even if I opened my eyes, I wouldn’t be able to see. Carson pulls back and dances his tongue across my clit again and again as the heat inside me intensifies. His tongue slides down into me and then back up. I feel his mouth leave me for a moment, and then his finger is at my entrance, sliding slowly and gently inside me. He waits a moment before hooking his finger against the upper walls of my flesh and pulling it back out. He repeats the motion and, at some point, his mouth rejoins the thrusting digit. I feel another pause, and the fit of his finger inside me seems to have tightened. I realize he’s slowly adding another finger, and the intensity I’m feeling is dizzying. I start to feel a sort of soaring feeling and my breathing deepens. Carson must notice because the pressure and speed of his tongue increases dramatically. There is a pressure building inside me and then, suddenly, it’s like fireworks are bursting in every inch, every nerve, of my body. I fist my hands in Carson’s hair and, almost as though I’m somewhere above us, I hear myself scream his name.

  I’m not sure how long I lie there with him, not saying a word. He’s moved up to press himself against my back and wrapped his arm around me. I can’t think, let alone talk. I have no words. Carson kisses my temple and says something I don’t quite understand. I realize then that he has taken care of me, but I’ve done nothing for him. I roll to face him and put my hands on either side of his face, kissing him deeply. I smile at this wonderful man who has given me such pleasure before pushing his shoulder down, urging him to lie on his back.

  I slide down his body and unzip the jeans he’s wearing, careful to avoid the bulge of his sensitive skin below. Carson says nothing, but watches me intently as I explore his body for the first time. I pull the faded denim over his hips and down, removing them completely. I stare for a moment at the ridge of hard flesh still covered by his boxer briefs. I lick my lips, breathe deeply, and uncover the treasure I’ve been waiting for. It’s bigger than I thought, and I’m intrigued by the ridges and veins running along its length. There is a drop of moisture at the tip and I can’t help but taste it. Carson lets out a deep groan when my tongue touches his flesh and as I pull back, the moisture strings from my mouth back to its origin, connecting us. I’m not really sure how to do this, but I lick up the underside of his glorious cock and, judging by his reaction, it’s the right way to go. Again, I capture the head of his shaft and this time I suck it fully into my mouth. I wrap my hand around the spit-moistened column of skin and stroke slowly, keeping the tip in my mouth. Incredibly, his skin tightens a
nd the already firm length grows even more rigid. I continue this way as Carson’s fingers find their way into my hair. His grip doesn’t cause me any pain, but the possessiveness of the gesture increases the fire within me. Seconds later, he tells me to stop. I look up at him without removing my mouth from its contact with him, questioning his request with my eyes.

  “Angel, please. If you don’t stop, I will come in your mouth. You feel incredible and I’m losing control.”

  I wink and give him a small shrug before going back to what I was doing before the interruption. Carson’s breathing quickens and his hands grow more insistent in my hair. His entire length begins to pulse and he growls my name as my mouth fills with a salty substance. I don’t find it unpleasant at all… it’s like a seductive gift from my love and I swallow before smiling up at those baby blues.

  “Get up here!” he roars at me. “You have no idea how hot that was. None. If you could read my mind right now, you’d probably be running for the door. The things I want to do to you, with you, for you…” He trails off as I slide up next to him again.

  “What are you waiting for?” I ask him quietly. My voice betrays the sudden nervousness I’m feeling despite the bold words.

  “I’ve got you, Brie. I can’t promise this won’t hurt, but I can promise I’ll do whatever I can to make this good for you.”

  Carson reaches for his pants, which I’ve left on the floor, and pulls a foil packet from his wallet. He’s already hard as a rock again, and I watch intently as he rolls the thin barrier over his skin. I have goosebumps everywhere as I lie back and he covers my body with his. He kisses me deeply, intently, the flavors of our mutual pleasure mingling between us and I begin to relax. I know this is completely right when I feel no fear as his tip nudges the entrance to my body. Pressure grows between my legs as he slowly moves forward into me. At first, there is no pain, but as he stretches me further, I gasp at the intensity of the sensation. He pulls back a bit and moves forward again, letting me get used to his size.

  “Look at me, Angel,” he says. “I’m so sorry for this part, but just look at me and know I’m taking care of you.”

  He presses forward again and I feel a huge increase in the pressure along with a jolt of pain that spreads through the center of my body. I don’t make a sound; I just breathe in and keep my gaze locked on Carson’s as he continues to slowly move back and forth. My muscles adjust to him and although a dull ache remains, the initial sharpness is gone. Carson reaches his hand between our bodies and rubs the hooded nub he finds there. Warmth and pleasure are replacing all the other sensations and I close my eyes, riding the new feelings. The pleasure increases and builds in my core only to suddenly release in another, although smaller, burst of fireworks. Carson kisses my neck and within a few strokes, I feel his size increase before he stiffens, the name “Angel” bursting from his mouth. He is still for a moment before slowly pulling back, ending the connection of our bodies.

  He brushes my hair from my face, staring at my expression, waiting for some sign that I’m okay. I smile broadly at him and, before I can stop them, the words “I love you” rush from me. I clap my hand to my mouth and hide my face in his chest. I’m so overwhelmed with new feelings and sensations and I honestly didn’t know I was going to say that out loud. I’ve been hearing the phrase over and over in my head for a while, but saying it is something different.

  “Brie, look at me.”

  I slowly lift my gaze to meet Carson’s eyes. I open my mouth to speak, but he puts a finger to my lips. “Angel, I love you, too.”

  “Carson, you don’t have to say that. I know it’s too soon, and…”

  “Brielle Douglas, I love you. I think something inside me recognized you the moment we met and I’ve loved you ever since. It doesn’t have to make sense; it doesn’t have to be the right date on some calendar. It just has to feel right to us. Nothing in my life has ever felt more right than you and me, together, right now.”

  There are tears in my eyes and I blink heavily, taking in the sight of this man, this room, this night. It has been a long time since I had a moment I wanted to remember as much as this one, if ever. As I drift off to sleep in Carson’s arms, I finally feel like everything is going to be okay.

  Chapter Twelve

  Brielle

  Waking up with Carson still wrapped around me is surreal. I wish he could be here every day, but I know that isn’t possible. We only have two days together before he has to return to the set, and I resign myself to another week of virtual solitude. I appreciate everything Mrs. H has done for me, but this cocoon I’m in is beginning to feel like a prison. I’ve known scared and I’ve known lonely; I’m ready for freedom.

  Carson stirs and a smile crosses his face before he even opens his eyes. He pulls me in for a good morning kiss before pushing back the covers and turning to get out of bed. I sigh loudly and he laughs as he stands there in all his naked glory. He stretches his muscles and shows me every bit of the body I’d like to get my hands on again.

  “I know, Angel. I’d like nothing more than to stay in bed with you, inside you, all day long. But,” he extends a hand to help me up, “we have things to do.”

  “We do?” I’m not sure what he means. All I know is that in my attempt to avoid falling on my face, I’ve had to let go of the sheet that I was holding around me. He may have seen it all last night, but there is something about the bright morning light streaming in the windows that is making me feel a little insecure.

  Carson runs his hands down my arms and around to the small of my back. “I’ve seen every inch of you and I loved it all,” he whispers. “You never have to hide from me.”

  I feel a blush warm my cheeks and quickly change the subject. “So, what exactly are we up to today?”

  “It’s moving day!” he announces grandly.

  “Moving day? I’m not sure I follow…” I trail off.

  “Brie, I don’t want to live another day without you near me. I know a trailer on a movie set isn’t an ideal living situation, but I’d love to have you with me every day. What do you think?”

  “I think I want to be with you, wherever you are.”

  It takes all of five minutes to pack my things. Carson calls Lucy, telling her I’ve said yes and that she will need to pick us up. I can hear her whoop of delight from across the room.

  “Lucy already knew?”

  “She knew I wanted you to come back with me; she encouraged me to ask you. She said a beautiful young girl like you shouldn’t be cooped up in the house all the time. I couldn’t agree more.”

  “I’ll have to remember to thank her.”

  From the smell of things, Mrs. H has made her banana nut muffins this morning. Two place settings are laid out on the dining room table and Mrs. H can be heard humming in the kitchen. When she bustles through the door, she sees the bags we’ve set down along the side of the room and her expression turns sad. “I thought you two might be leaving today.” She shakes her head as she places a basket of golden brown muffins on the table. “I’m so very happy for the both of you, but I sure did like having you around here.”

  With tears in my eyes, I rush forward to hug the older woman, thanking her for everything she has done for me.

  “You just hush and eat now, Brielle,” she replies gruffly. Clearing her throat, she straightens up, saying, “The least I can do is send you out of here with a full belly.”

  ***

  Carson

  What Mrs. Hanley considers a full belly, I call “Thanksgiving-stuffed”. Brie and I practically had to roll ourselves out the door when Lucy arrived. There were more hugs and thank yous exchanged before we finally made it out to the car. I’ll miss Mrs. H and my room at the B&B, but it’s a bad idea for Brie to come back to Marshall any time soon. It might be best if she never sets foot in this town again.

  It’s snowing lightly and the wind is bitterly cold, so Brie doesn’t seem out of place at all with her hat pulled low and a scarf obscuring most of her face. An
yone driving by will know that guests were leaving the Bed and Breakfast this morning, but won’t have a clue that the woman they saw was Brielle Douglas.

  The weather begins to clear as we drive and the sun peeks out from behind the clouds. Brie is sitting next to me in the back seat of the Lexus while Lucy sings along with the radio from the driver’s seat. Everything is happening so fast; in the past twelve hours, I’ve made love to my angel, told her I love her, and asked her to move in with me. I should be completely terrified right now. Instead, I’m ecstatic.

  When we reach the security gates set up outside the makeshift lot, Brie begins wringing her hands nervously in her lap. I reach my hand out to hold hers still. She stares out the window, taking everything in.

  “It doesn’t look the way I thought it would,” she muses. “I thought it would be, I don’t know, bigger or something.”

  “I think you’re picturing one of the big time production lots in Hollywood,” I laugh. “This is just a small, independently made film. It’s not one that will make millions or be in every theatre in the country, but it’s a great project.”

  Pointing out the window on my side of the car, I tell her, “That warehouse is where most of the filming happens. It’s broken up into sections and each section is a different part of the set itself. There are also a couple of offices and a crew lounge in the building. The parking lot is also in sections. Most of the people working on this film are staying in a hotel nearby, so there aren’t a ton of trailers. The white one near the front of the lot, closest to the warehouse itself, is the hair and makeup trailer. The one they’ve set up for me is at the far end of the lot over there.” I point again, this time out her window. “The other two are for the director and the writers. Adam and Kate Alexander, the writing team, are a married couple, so they share. They generally only stay in theirs if they’re here really late.”