I collapsed onto my knees, gripping her leg and easing her foot onto the bed. I ran my thumb between the lace of her panties, scooting them to the side. She took in a deep breath when I slipped two fingers inside of her soaked center. She was drenched; I could feel her dripping down my fingers, her juices hitting my wrist.
I spread her legs farther on the bed. She groaned when I pulled my fingers out of her pussy and lowered my face to her soft folds. I started with one slow, easy lick, upping my pace when she gasped, and held her wobbly leg in place. I grinned against her pussy, my tongue driving wildly inside of her, and slapped her ass before grabbing a handful of it to bring her closer to my mouth.
“Don’t stop,” she muttered, harshly, rotating her hips, and melting against my tongue. I wanted to consume every piece of her, feeling her come apart on my tongue, in my mouth, and that’s exactly what she did. I held her in place, my fingernails biting into her skin, and she moaned out that she hated me again before coming undone.
I lathered up the excess juices trickling down her thighs, massaging her ass, and pulled away to look at her.
“Do you still hate me?” I asked, giving her a hopeful smile before teasingly licking my bottom lip. I wished I could read her mind, but she wasn’t giving anything away except the fact that she was turned on.
Her eyes were glazed over as she stared at me intensely. “It depends,” she said, a sly smile spreading over her full lips.
“On?” I asked.
“On whether you let me ride your dick or not.”
Fuck me. Was that even a question I had to consider? “Whatever you want, love. I’m all yours,” I said, pulling my shirt off.
Her smile was eager when she jerked out of my hold and slid up my bed backwards. I trailed behind her on my hands and knees, kissing her lips when I reached her. She devoured my mouth like she was losing oxygen and I was the tank reviving her.
“Pants off,” she demanded, cupping my hard and ready cock. I kicked off my shoes and dragged my pants off behind them. “And you’re still excited for me?”
“Always,” I said, lifting her chin up to kiss her again. “Always for you.” I tugged her panties off, ripping them in the process, and threw them across the room.
I exhaled when she pushed me down onto the bed and straddled my lap. She lifted up, grabbing my cock and rubbing it up and down her warmth, and then slammed down on me.
My back arched, coming off the bed, at the feel of her taking in every inch of me. I moaned, a fist going to my mouth and my other hand snatching onto her hips. She moved fast, riding me hard. Our bodies slammed together, our skin slapping against each other’s while our groans and sighs filled my bedroom.
“Your bra off,” I groaned out, flexing my hips to meet her every stroke. The room was burning up, my head going hazy while I struggled to gain my breath. Fuck, I missed this.
Her arms wrapped around her back and her bra was gone. I watched her breasts bounce with each grind. I felt powerless underneath her as she fucked me hard, finally falling down to rest her hands on my chest, and her nipples hung above my eyes.
I opened my mouth, moving forward to suck one. She looked down, giving me a faint smile, and slowed her pace as she fed it to me. She held it in place, allowing me to suck hard, and her stomach slid against mine as she kept riding me.
So much was going on – so many emotions, sensations, feelings, I was ready to bust open inside of her.
“Are you almost there?” She asked, her movement slowing down. Her breathing kicked, and she slammed down on me harder, surprising me with the noises coming from the back of her throat. She was getting her frustrations out with me like she had those other men.
My hands flew up, gripping onto her hips, and holding her down so she couldn’t move. “I’m not going to be one of those guys,” I said, nervously, meeting her eyes.
She shook her head, her voice strained. “You’ll never be one of those guys.” Her hips bucked, begging to be released so she could move, but I didn’t let up.
“Tell me you love me.”
Her face squished up, looking combative, and then turned soft. “I love you,” she whispered.
I pulled my hands away to release her, and she slammed down on me. And coincidentally, and weird as fuck, it was like her declaration had set us both off. I felt her spasm around me, my dick hitting every inch inside of her, and she shuttered her release. Then I happily joined her.
CHAPTER THIRTY- EIGHT
ELISE
My brain was foggy and I tried to catch my breath. My thighs constricted, brushing the outside of his legs, and I settled my gaze on him. He looked up at me, subdued, with half-mast eyes.
He’d just filled me with his cum. We were both coming down from our high, and I was about to puncture that exhilaration.
“How much?” I asked, forcing each bitter word off of my tongue.
He blew his cheeks out, his eyebrows smacking into his hairline. I slid off his slippery cock and fell down sideways with my back to the mattress. My chest felt heavy while I took in deep, slow breaths. My lungs constricted, burning with each exhale, at the realization of what I’d just done. I was so fucking stupid.
“What?” He asked, turning on his side. His chest moved in and out when he propped himself up on his elbow and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. His eyes penetrated mine while he waited for what was impending.
He wasn’t ready for this conversation. Hell, I wasn’t ready for it. I dreaded bringing it up, but it had to happen. It needed to be discussed or we could never move forward. We couldn’t go on like it never happened. Me lying naked in his bed didn’t mean we were back together and everything was forgotten.
His eyes dropped down to mine, flickering with gentleness and sympathy. He timidly reached out to push away the loose strands of hair falling in front of my eyes. He played with it in his fingers, his eyes slowly shutting, like he was afraid this was the last time he’d touch me.
The sweet euphoria that had been riding through me had come to an afflicting crash. My stomach clamped with self-disgust. He’d hurt me and what did I do? I jumped right back into his bed before deciding if I was forgiving him. I’d let him cum inside of me before we’d even resolved anything. My poor decision-making was still at its best.
“How much did he pay you?” I asked, the words slipping from my mouth slowly, my tongue resisting their release.
“Please,” he said, shaking his head. “Please don’t bring him up in here.” His tone was pleading. “Don’t bring him up in here ever.”
“Why?” I croaked out, my blood temperature rising. “It needs to be talked about. You asked me to give you the opportunity to explain yourself and hear your side of the story. Now, start explaining.”
His elbow gave out and he collapsed onto his back. “Nu uh,” he muttered, running his palm over his forehead and wiping away sweat droplets from our lovemaking. “Not here.”
“Yes here,” I said, through clenched teeth with a scowl. I bent forward, snatched the blanket at our ankles and jerked it up my body. I was suddenly feeling insecure and way too exposed.
“Tell me right now, or I’m getting up from this bed, calling Vincent and asking him to come get me. If you don’t tell me why you did it, we’re done. No more chances.”
He sighed loudly, and the bed caved in when he smacked his arms down. “I don’t want him in there, goddamnit!” He turned back around to look at me. “This is our place. I don’t want him to have the privilege of tainting our home, our bedroom. I don’t want that monster being brought up here.”
He wasn’t going to answer. He lied. “This should’ve never happened,” I cried out, draping my arm over my eyes in regret. “I shouldn’t be here.”
Stupid, stupid me. I should’ve never left with him. I damn sure shouldn’t have gone home with him and fucked his brains out. He was lying again. He’d played recklessly with my heart, leading me on like what he’d done was no big deal. I shouldn’t be here lying in his bed,
but I couldn’t find the power to get up and walk away from him.
“This should’ve happened,” he said, countering my words. I frowned when my arm was lifted and his face was hovering above mine.
I turned my head to the side, refusing to look at him. “I’m not supposed to be here.” I squeezed my eyes shut to hold back the fresh tears. “We’re not supposed to be together.”
He leaned forward to kiss away the tears falling down my cheek. After he cleared each one, he kissed my damp lips. “You’re supposed to be here.” I shook my head violently. “There’s no breaking us, baby.”
“You hurt me.”
“I did,” he said, in shame. “And I hate myself for it. I hate myself for being the person who caused you pain. I wanted to be the one who made you happy, the one you trusted, your hero, and I failed you. For that, I’m so sorry. If you give me another chance, I promise you I will never let you down again.”
He wasn’t disputing what he’d done or giving me excuses to justify his actions. He knew what he did was wrong and he was owning up to it. The sadness in his voice and the look in his eyes told me he regretted it more than anything else he could’ve said.
“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” I said.
A heavy numbness invaded me. I wanted to let him back in. I wanted to fall back into his arms, and for him to take me back to when he made me feel so happy and free. But as much as I ached for that, we could never go back to that. We couldn’t forget about what had happened. What he’d done, no matter how much time had passed, would never leave. It would haunt us forever.
“Let me prove it to you,” he begged. “I’ve never given you a chance to doubt my feelings for you. I know I made a bad decision, and I should’ve been honest with you about it, but not once have I hurt you after we reconnected. Not once have I hurt you since I’ve been in love with you.”
“Then tell me,” I whispered, my eyes heavy.
His chest expanded before he let out a rush of air. “Come on, then.” He left me, pulled a pair of shorts on, and came to me with his hand held out. “We’re not doing it in here.”
I wrapped the blanket tighter around me and let him pull me up. He followed me into the living room. I crashed down on the couch, my back hitting the armrest, and he fell down beside me.
“It was the day we met,” he said. “I went to the director after you told me you were raped. He told me to let it go. He said I wasn’t the first therapist of yours to come to him with that information and every time he looked into it, it wasn’t true. There was no supporting evidence to justify anything you said.”
“Of course he said that,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’m sure he was paid off, too.”
He gave me a look. “Sorry, go on.”
“The next day, he called me back to his office. Your dad was waiting for me. He reiterated everything I’d already been told. He even brought evidence that he’d called the cops and pressed charges against Peter. He told me you lied for attention and your false accusations would only hurt and break up families.”
He was right. Not about the false accusations, but about tearing families apart. If my secret had come out then, Weston’s family would’ve been over a long time ago.
He shook his head. “Wow, now that I say it out loud, I really was an idiot for believing it.”
“He offered you money to keep your mouth shut and you caved,” I said.
He nodded, his brows bumping into each other. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to lose my job, and I had student loans racked up. I wanted to start my own practice and I wasn’t thinking.”
“How much?”
He looked me dead in the eyes. “One hundred thousand.”
“One hundred thousand dollars?” I yelped.
Repugnance filled my throat. My dad was willing to fork out that much money to save his own reputation. He was willing to pay out that number so I’d remain a spineless pawn in his sick game.
I bowed my head down. “Thank you for being honest with me.”
“I regret it every day of my life. I know it’s not an excuse, but I was young and dumb. I wanted to do my job, to help people, and he convinced me he’d ruin me if I went against him.”
I wasn’t exactly content with his answer. It was long overdue, but I was relieved I’d finally gotten the truth.
“Okay,” I said, softly. “So where do we go from here?”
“That’s your call.”
My call. My call to decide if I wanted to get dressed and make a run for it, or stay and see where we could go. My call to whether I wanted to open my heart back up and trust him again.
“I don’t want to lose us, but I can’t just run back to you and act like this never happened.” I paused, and signaled between the two of us. “This can’t happen for awhile. I need some time.”
He grabbed my hands and cupped them in his. “Anything,” he said. “You’re calling the shots. Whatever makes you happy makes me happy.” He stopped as if something dawned on him. “Unless you being happy is not being with me, then no, it doesn’t make me happy. I’ll accept it, but I won’t be happy. You’ve pretty much turned my world upside down. I told you I wanted Wale’s death to mean something and that’s happened. He brought us to each other.”
We were both giving each other something we needed. He made me see I could be free and love myself the way he saw me. I made him see that his brother’s death did give people happiness, including him.
“Baby steps.” I gave him a small smile. “But I’m not leaving.”
He wrapped his hand around my neck and brought my lips to his. “Thank God, I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
He clapped his hands together. “Now, moving on. Let’s talk about the topic of you loving me.”
The room heated up, and I clenched the blanket around me tighter. Me and my big mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, trying to hold back a smile, but failing miserably. I wasn’t able to hide my emotions around him.
“You do.” A big, obnoxious smile spread across his face. “And don’t try to deny it.”
I shook my head, letting a smile pop. “One should not be held responsible for what they say when they’re naked and on the verge of coital bliss.”
He threw his head back, laughing. “Coital bliss? Really?”
I smacked his shoulder. “Yes, really. So you can’t hold anything I say, or do during my moments of pleasure against me. I’m like a loose cannon when you’re devouring me. You use your tongue, and all of … that.” I grew red and threw my hands up to gesture towards his bare chest. “And it makes me crazy.”
“I will use it against you when it works in my favor. Remember that.”
I chirped up, faking a glare. “I believe I also said I hated you.
“Nu uh. You said you hated me when you were tearing my clothes off my body and also when your hand was wrapped around my cock.” I shoved his shoulder again, harder this time.
“You love me,” he teased. “Don’t be embarrassed about it. The feeling is mutual, love. But I’m sure you already know that.”
I believed him. There was no way a man would act that crazy and beg to prove himself, if he didn’t love me.
As fucked-up as it sounded, I knew he loved me because he looked at me the same way my father had looked at my mom. He might’ve been a horrible person, but he was head over heels in love her. Even the most dark and twisted people had a place inside of them that’s capable of love when they find the right person to fill that hollow part of their soul.
“I’ve never had anyone love me before,” I said. I’d had men proclaim their love and infatuation to me, but they were all lies. Fake. I wasn’t even sure love existed until Weston. I didn’t think people believe in love until they actually fall in love. You don’t think it’s real until it hits you in the face and you realize you don’t feel complete without the other.
His face lit up and he wrapped his arms around me, pullin
g my blanket-covered body into his arms. “Then I’m honored to be your first, your last, and I promise you that you’ll never lose my heart.”
CHAPTER THIRTY- NINE
ELISE
I blew out a breath of exhaustion as I clutched two grocery bags in my arms and walked down the hallway. I’d developed an anxiety that my poor coordination would get to me and I’d drop one. The bag would bust open at my feet and everything inside would go flying in all directions.
And it happened. Boom! Like I could sense him, a bag fell from my grasps and smashed onto the carpeted floor. I gasped as items rolled down the hallway in what seemed like slow motion. Of course he’d found me. He kicked a leg out and stopped a can with the sole of his three thousand dollar shoe.
“You need to get the hell out of here,” I said, coldly. “Or I’m calling the cops.”
“I only want to talk,” he said, his dark eyes swallowing me in. He was slouched down, his heavy body resting against the wall, and sitting next to my front door. There was no way I’d be able to avoid him if I wanted in my apartment.
“I don’t want to talk,” I snapped. “So I’d appreciate it if you got your ass up and away from my door. Don’t come back here again.”
He held his hand out. “Five minutes, five minutes. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Go fuck yourself,” I snarled, my harsh words surprising us both. “Did you really think I’d be happy to see you and invite you in for a cup of tea?”
“I’m sorry.”
The world stood still, and I got lightheaded. In my twenty years of knowing this depraved man, he’d never, not even once, apologized for anything. I was convinced he was incapable of remorse.
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