by Harper Sloan
“There. Now finish what you were saying.”
God, this girl is going to be my undoing.
“I don’t like bringing other people into bed with us. Not like this.” It feels wrong to talk about Jessica with her pussy coating my cock with wetness.
“I don’t like bringing other people into anything with us, but at least I know it’s my body that has you while it happens, not someone else.”
Twisted as fuck logic, but I get it.
“Fine,” I breathe. Dropping my forehead to hers, I refuse to look away from her searching gaze. “I met Jessica when I was a senior in high school. It was the typical head cheerleader meets the new transfer student turned quarterback, and just because it’s expected, we went on a date. I went with it because I was a shithead teen who didn’t care about anything. I wanted to play football and get my dick wet. The rest was fuck all to me.”
I hate to think about this shit, let alone talk about it. The pain I feel remembering those years was never worth it, but for whatever reason, it doesn’t sear through me like it used to. I have a feeling that has everything to do with the woman under me who’s looking at me like she’s hanging on every word I’m saying. Her body wrapped around me as if she is afraid I might leave her. Fat fucking chance.
“I had just moved the summer before school started. I tried out for the football team because I knew it would get me pussy. It did at my old school, so I went with what I knew worked. Like I said, I was a punk—an angry punk who didn’t feel as out of control when I was fucking someone. It just so happened that I was one hell of a player on the field. I took over when, two practices in, the only quarterback worth a shit broke his leg.”
“This is a lovely story,” she gripes, narrowing her eyes.
“Told you I didn’t like bringing other people into bed with us.”
She rolls her eyes. “Just continue, and I’ll try to remember that I don’t want to hurt your fat cock.”
“Right.” I feel my lips twitch. She’s trying to hold on to her anger, but my guess is she isn’t unaffected by our position, and it’s making it harder. Literally. “We dated through the school year. My coach was a big reason that I lost the chip I had on my shoulder. I owed him so much, but even he couldn’t get me to accept scholarships to play ball after graduation. It didn’t matter to me that he thought I was good enough to go pro. I didn’t care about the potential riches he was dangling over my head. Nothing he could say or try to predict was going to change my mind. It was never a question that I would go into the Marines. Jessica wasn’t exactly on board with that, but she stuck with me. I still don’t know why she did.”
“Why were you so set on the Marines?” she interrupts, making me pause.
“My dad was a Marine. He raised me alone, and his sister helped him when he was overseas. Even as a single father, he never failed to show me how much he loved me. He was my hero, and when I lost him, I wanted nothing more than to make him proud and follow in his footsteps.”
“Oh, Chance”—she trembles— “I’m sorry, honey.” Her hands reach up, her fingers dipping into my hair, palms against my cheeks.
“It was a long time ago, Wren. I’ve made peace with losing him. The Marines did that. They gave me back my dad.”
“You said your aunt helped raised you?”
“My mom was a one night of fun thing and had no interest in being a parent when she found out she was pregnant. My dad, though, he wanted me. He got her to sign over her rights, and she never looked back.”
Wren’s chin wobbles slightly, drawing my attention. “I’m not upset about that, Wren. Don’t feel sorry for me.”
“I’m not. What your dad did was beautiful. I can’t help that it makes me all girly.”
“Can I finish now?” She nods. “Aunt Tracy was my best friend. Even though she was a lot younger than my dad was, she took me without question when he died. She was twenty-five when she became my guardian. Eight years later, she was more of a friend than that, but she was, without a doubt, the most important person in my life. That was always a point of contention between Jessica and me, but being the stupid fuck I was, I thought if I put a ring on her finger, it would bring them closer while I was gone.”
“Gone?”
“Overseas. Right out of boot camp and fresh out of high school.”
“Oh.” She nods.
“Jessica was taking classes at the local community college, so she was still living at home with her parents that first year I was gone. I came back, and I figured the next step was for us to get our own place. Tracy didn’t like it, but she also didn’t hold me back. Jessica was on cloud nine, though.”
“And you?” Wren asks. “Were you on cloud nine too?”
“I had just come back from war. I might not have been a punk kid anymore, but I still thought with my dick more than my head. Moving in meant I got to think with my dick when I wanted to.”
Wren frowns.
“Anyway, I was home for a while before we were called back. We hadn’t been planning, so we still hadn’t set a date for our wedding. When I left, we promised each other that when I got back, we would make sure and take care of that. This time, I was gone for eight months. I had moved to a specialized team at that point, and we handled some fucked-up shit. Communication back home was next to impossible, but still, when I got home, she opened her arms with a smile. We started planning with the hopes that we would get married in the fall of that year. Tracy kept telling me that twenty was too young to get married, but I was too stubborn to listen.”
Knowing the next part would be the hardest, I take a fortifying breath before continuing. “My team was sent back before we could get married. I was gone for almost a year that time. Aunt Tracy passed away two days before I got back—drunk driver. I was a fucking mess by the time the plane touched down. The only thing I could think of was that all my family was gone. I was on autopilot the whole way to the apartment I shared with Jessica. She didn’t know I was coming home. With the news about Tracy, I didn’t even tell her, so I wasn’t shocked that she wasn’t home. It wasn’t even noon, so I dropped down on the couch and waited for her.”
“Chance,” she calls softly, and I look up, realizing I had zoned in on her collarbone while I talked.
“Yeah?”
“Is the rest of this story going to make me want to commit murder?”
I think I fell a little in love with her right then.
“Well, it did for me, so maybe.”
“Right.” Her bottom lip rolls, and she bites down on it with her teeth, nibbling for a second before releasing the plump flesh. “I’m sorry about your aunt. I bet she was amazing.”
“Thanks, babe. Can I finish now?” She nods. “Jessica got home two hours later. I’m not sure who was more shocked, her or me, when she opened the door. Maybe I should have called her to tell her I was coming, but I had talked to her the week before, and she knew we would be coming home soon. She kept talking about how she was almost finished with the wedding plans, and she couldn’t wait for me to get home. She forgot, however, to mention that she was a lying bitch. She screamed, but after she had realized I wasn’t some stranger about to kill her, she got weird. I wasn’t in the right mind because of the grief I was dealing with, on top of just waking up, so it took me a second to realize that the flat stomach she had when I left was now huge and swollen.”
“What?”
“She was seven months pregnant.”
“You have a kid?” Wren screams. I pull back my head slightly from the sheer volume behind it.
“Wren. She was seven months pregnant. Seven,” I stress.
“And?”
“And I had been gone for three days shy of a full year.”
I watch as comprehension dawns, the math adding up.
“That fucking bitch!”
“Yeah, my thoughts exactly. Turned out, since the day I left for my first deployment, she had been fucking around on me. For three years, I thought we were building our future,
but she was only playing games. When I was home, she was still fucking around, just more careful. However, she didn’t plan to get knock up. I lost everything that day.”
“You loved her.” Wren’s voice is quiet, nonjudgmental, and accepting.
“I thought I did. I know now that I didn’t. She might have hurt me, but I think it hurt more because of how much I had lost in one giant kick. Tracy was gone, and I had just found out the woman I was supposed to marry hadn’t ever been faithful to me—lying our whole four years together. I felt so betrayed by everyone. It wasn’t a good time for me, and I’ll admit Jessica is a big reason why I spent the last decade refusing to let another woman get close. It wasn’t until Cohen that I even let a friend get close. I was convinced, in my mind, that everyone I let near me would either betray me or be taken from me.”
“And now?”
“I now know I can’t control fate. I have some great friends back home, but even with them, I’ve held back a lot of me because of that fear. It didn’t help that I held on to what happened to Dani as an excuse to keep that distance too. When I go back home, I’ll make sure those friends know how much I appreciate them in my life. And, as for you, I’ve known you less than two full weeks, Wren. In that time, you’ve become an obsessive need my body craves to be near. I take you once, and I know a lifetime probably wouldn’t be enough to quench the thirst I have for more. And I know I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure that you aren’t taken from me. I guess I can look back at my time with that bitch and be thankful that she did me a favor. Her being a massive slut means I didn’t make the biggest mistake of my life.”
“You know I would never do that to you, right?”
“Yeah, Wren, I do.”
“Do you really? My whole life is in the spotlight, and the media loves nothing more than creating drama with their lies. You have to know I would never cheat on you, regardless of whatever they might print in the future.”
I toss my head back and laugh, the heaviness pushing out of the room. “Babe, you almost went ape shit when you thought I was engaged and cheating with you. I think it’s pretty clear where you stand on cheating. As for the media, they already have us married and expecting, Wren. I think I have a good idea about how crazy their lies can be.”
“Are you saying that you’re not really my not husband?” She gasps, a small smile on her lips.
“For now.”
Her eyes widen, but I don’t elaborate. Instead, I take advantage of our position and give us both some of the addiction we’re hooked on.
Each other.
My toes curl at the same time my back snaps up, arching off the bed. I shake my head from side to side, a low whine escaping my lips. Unclenching the sheets that I have fisted in my hands, I move them with a slight tremble to the silky hair on Chance’s head. My chest heaves as I drag my fingernails across his scalp before taking a firm hold of his thick hair. Lifting my hips off the mattress, I force him closer to my soaking wet pussy.
He makes a throaty sound of pleasure when I start to grind myself against his open mouth. His wetness mixes with my own, making slick sounds echo around us.
“I need more.” I gasp, so close but wanting more than his wicked mouth and talented hands.
“You want my cock?” he asks my pussy, his hot breath hitting my swollen and oversensitive clit.
“God, yes.”
He looks up, causing his chin to press my hot button. My eyes widen when he moves his jaw from side to side, applying the pressure I need to explode. He’s refused to touch that spot on me since he started devouring me forever ago. “How bad do you want my cock?”
I whine pathetically and loud.
“Tell me.” The dominant way in which he’s talking to me only makes me more needy for him.
“So bad. So, so, so bad.”
“Where do you want it?”
“Inside me.” I gasp, feeling a slight tremor start to roll over my body. If he keeps chinning me, I’m going to come, and I want him inside me when I do.
“Your mouth? Your pussy?” His eyes get a mischievous glint to them. “Or maybe your ass?”
“Oh, shit.” I gasp.
“Tell me where. Now, Wrenlee.”
My legs shake; my orgasm so close. “In my pussy.”
He doesn’t move. He continues to look at me with so much rapture in his expression from just pleasuring me alone. His chin continues to work me to the brink of insanity, and just when I’m about to shoot off the bed into a million pieces, he lifts his head and leans back.
Next thing I know, he’s pulling me by the hips further down the bed. My squeak of surprise from the sudden movement turns into a shrill scream when he bends down and stuffs his cock inside me in one deliciously rough thrust. I’m shocked I didn’t shatter all the glass around us because my screams don’t stop there. Nope. His fullness stretches me, mixing my pleasure with pain; the feeling is so intense that I’m half-convinced the sheer power of it is going to kill me.
He powers his cock into me, not holding back at all. I realize why he moved us almost to the end of the bed when his thrusts move us across the bed in seconds. He drops one side of his body to rest his weight on his elbow; the move catches me off guard, grinding the coarse hair at the base of his cock against my clit. I scream out again, louder. I realize why he shifted a moment later when he places his hand on the top of my head only seconds before he almost fucked me into the headboard of my bed—his hand protecting my head from the hard surface.
“Play with your tits, Wren,” he demands, his nostrils flaring rapidly. “Palm your tits and feed them to me.”
Fuck, that’s hot.
I drop my hands from where I had been clawing at his back and do what he commands. My hands squeeze them briefly before holding one free, waiting for his mouth, and playing with the other breast’s nipple. He dips slightly, pushing even deeper into me, the fullness overwhelming as he stretches me. Then his mouth opens, and he wraps his lips wide around my breast. He isn’t gentle, sucking hard until he has more than just the pink skin around my nipple in his mouth. His wet tongue flicks and licks before he nips his teeth against the pointed tip.
My legs quiver, and I feel myself get even wetter around him.
He releases me with a pop before rolling us and falling to his back on the bed, never losing the connection of our bodies. He had shifted while his cock was powering out of my wetness, so when he landed, he used his hands at my hips to hold me there—with just the tip of his thick cock inside me.
My whimper is shameless at the loss of him. I can feel my body trying to suck him back as I thicken around him with fluttered kisses against his cock head.
“Please, God, please, Chance.” I wiggle, trying to loosen his hold on me.
“Show me how I make you feel,” he tells me with a hoarse voice. The veins in his neck pulse, highlighting the raw power raging inside him. “Give me what I crave.”
I cry out weakly. Then he releases his hold on my hips, pulling his wrists free of my hands effortlessly despite the harsh grip I had on them. The second I’m free, I slam my body down, taking him deeper than ever before. He stretches me, fills me completely. I drop my hands to his chest, dig my nails into his firm flesh, and start to move.
My whole body moves against his, using him for my pleasure while giving him his own. His grunts and deep sounds of enjoyment get lost when I push up from my hold on his chest and start to roll my hips as the pleasure washes over me. My legs shake, and I lose the ability to move. My hips fall down, his cock being sucked and squeezed while my pussy pulses around him, and tremors of pure ecstasy wash over me. My head rolls back at the same time he gives a shout of completion. I look at the ceiling before my vision blurs as the warmth of his come splashes inside me, and my throat burns from the shrillness of my screams.
I’m vaguely aware of Chance moving me, his deep voice saying something, but I’m so lost to my pleasure that I’m helpless to do anything but ride it out. The last thought I have before I
pass out from too much stimulation is that I was wrong—Chance doesn’t come close to the high I get going on stage. Nope, he doesn’t come close because he takes that sentiment and blows it into space.
And I have a feeling there will be no coming back from an addiction to that kind of high.
I roll onto my back and stretch my overused muscles. Opening my eyes, I look around the room, but I don’t see Chance anywhere. A quick glance at the clock tells me that I must have been asleep for a while. I might have been catching up on my sleep since we’ve been home, but no matter how much rest I’ve gotten, you don’t get fucked like that and not need to recover.
Or did I do the fucking?
Maybe it was a mutual fucking. Yeah, that sounds about right.
I can’t keep the smile off my face as I move my sore body to the edge of the bed. Standing on wobbly feet, I make my way to my en suite. Avoiding the mirror, I walk into my shower and crank the hot water on. I spend more time than necessary in there, washing my hair and body before shaving all the important bits. Then I stand there and let the hot pulses pound over my sore skin. The long bench seat fills my vision, and I immediately think of how I need to get Chance in here before we leave for Vegas.
“I was starting to wonder if you would wake up at all.”
I screech and whip my head around toward Chance’s voice. He’s standing on the other side of the glass door of my shower fully clothed in dark jeans and a black t-shirt. My eyes go straight to his crotch, and I think about how much I enjoy that part of him.
He’s without a doubt the thickest and fattest that I’ve ever seen. He isn’t crazy long, probably slightly above average, but what he lacks in length, he makes up for ten times over in girth.
He covers his crotch with his hands, and my eyes shoot to his. “Stop whatever you’re thinking,” he commands with a slight twitch of his mouth.
