by Sabre, Mason
“That’s a good thing?”
“I shouldn’t be ovulating!”
He lifted the condom and dread filled her. “Oh. My. God … where’s the stuff?”
He angled his head at it. “I believe it’s the … whitish liquid.”
“I mean shouldn’t there be more?” she cried, back to freaking out. “Oh God, I feel it leaking, it’s leaking out,” she barely squeaked. He eyed her with concern. Finally. She nodded at him a lot. “Yep, it’s leaking.”
“Perhaps it’s yours,” he said.
She jabbed a finger at the condom. “It’s nearly empty. God, what kind of weird condom is that? Looks like a deflated puffer fish.”
He winced a little. “Think its stage name is … spiked dragon of ecstasy.” He eyed her sheepishly. “I was … perhaps a little adventurous once upon a time.” He glanced from it to her then to it again. “I wouldn’t say it’s empty.” He jiggled it a little. “I mean how much do you suppose there should be?”
She choked and sputtered on the question and shrugged her shoulders. “More than that” she was pretty damn sure. She eyed him now. “How much did you put in it, you should know? Did you put that much?”
He considered a moment and the resulting look on his face made her panic.
“Oh God,” she wailed, spinning to the tub and turning on the water. “You put a load of it, I can tell by your face.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to try and get it out.”
“Can you do that?”
“I don’t know,” she shrilled wiggling her bottom in the tub, waiting for the water to fill. She could suck it into herself and push it out. She knew how to do that; she’d figured it out by accident once when masturbating in the tub.
He threw the condom in the bathroom trash and returned to kneel next to the tub. “I can’t get pregnant,” she hissed at him, desperate.
“You’re not pregnant. You said yourself you’re not ovulating.”
“But I can’t be positive. I’m not ready to be a mother.”
“Okay,” he soothed, reaching into the water and stroking her thigh. “And I’m not ready to be a father. Ever, actually. We’ll get a test right away and you can put your fears to rest.”
She stared at him, wondering why he didn’t want to be a father. “Lie back,” he ordered softly.
She would’ve argued but he had his hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her to obey. She didn’t fight.
“Relax. Being afraid will only make your body do stranger things.”
Right, right. She nodded, trying to relax, wanting to believe him. She couldn’t get pregnant.
“There, now close your eyes.”
She did as he said and focused on the feel of him pouring handfuls of hot water on her legs. Then stomach. She parted her lips when he poured water right on her nipple.
“So beautiful, Rosie,” he whispered. “Did you like our first time?”
She pressed her palms to the bottom of the tub when his finger brushed over the very tip of her nipple. Back and forth until her clit was on fire and she arched her back to get more. She remembered the question and nodded, liking that he’d said first. Like there would be more. Like she wouldn’t be a one-time thing.
He shut the water off and she kept her eyes closed, wanting him to keep on, hoping he did. He glided his hand under the water, softly along her ankle. He moved at a teasing pace up her inner calf.
His other hand suddenly covered her breast and squeezed with a sensual lapping. With each squeeze, his hand rose enough for his palm to graze the tip of her nipple before pressing back into the mound for another hungry caress.
Her stomach clenched in memory of how he’d felt when he made love to her. So amazing under his hands, his hard body crushing hers with his aggressive thrusts.
“Open for me Rosie,” he whispered, nudging her inner thigh toward the side of the tub. “Open wide for me.”
“Josh.” She arched into his tormenting touch at her breasts, his fingers squeezing her nipple as his other touch licked along the inside of her folds. “Yes,” she barely whispered when his finger found her clit with slow circles.
“I want to make you come again, Rosie.” The words came between his unsteady breaths. “I’ve dreamed of this right here. Did you dream of it?”
“Yes,” she said quickly, wanting him to know. She lifted her hips for more pressure on her clit. It was so hot the way he barely touched her. He matched his touch on her nipple, his finger circling the very tip, making her grunt with need and rock her hips.
“Do you want me to finger you, Rosie?”
“Please,” she panted, nodding.
“Look at me, Rosie. While I touch you here.”
Her eyes fluttered open and the look on his face made everything much hotter. She’d never seen a more desperate hunger on a more handsome face. “Touch me. Touch me more, please,” she whispered, lifting her hips higher and opening her legs as wide as she could.
He suddenly leaned into the tub, his face just before hers. He slid his finger deep inside her and kissed her the second she cried out from it. As though it was what he wanted more than anything, to taste her while he did that.
He grunted in her mouth as his finger turned hungry and seeking like his tongue. His thumb pressed into her clit with a perfection. Rosie grabbed his face with both hands, her own breaths coming in moans that got louder and faster as he fingered her.
“Josh,” she begged weakly, scraping her nails on his face and neck. “Don’t … don’t stop. Finger me, deeper.”
He gave a growl and latched his strong fingers onto her jaw as he fingered her, splashing water with his frenzied pace. He kissed and bit her lips, going deep so that his hand pounded against her. The wiggle of his thumb on her clit brought a paralyzing orgasm, right there, oh God, yes.
“Fuck, Rosie,” he strained right on her mouth when she came. Shameless cries wrenched out of her and she arched her body, pulling her legs back through the hard shudders while Josh bit along every inch of her parted lips with deep, low, groans.
“I want you again,” he said, his tone a tormented lament.
“Your turn,” she whispered on his mouth, breathless. She sat up and pointed in the tub. “Bathe with me.
Josh stared at her for a long time. She wondered … worried even what it was that would require so much effort on his part. Was it the kind of intimacy? After seconds of deliberation, he finally stood and climbed in, holding her with a harsh stare as he did. Everything about his expression said what she asked of him was a lot like jumping from a cliff, and the look he wore said I’ll jump. For you. He didn’t hide the effort it demanded of him, almost like he wanted her to know how hard it was and that he would, for her.
A heavy fear rode alongside this silent gift. Whatever he was doing, that she didn’t quite understand, represented a real cliff to him and he knew that nobody came back from that kind of jump. But it was the unspoken plea burning in his gaze that stole her heart. Don’t take me there unless you come with me to the bottom of this impossible place.
The need to prove she’d never hurt him had her breathless. She got on her knees before him, not breaking that eye contact he seemed to need, that unspoken lifeline of assurance he searched for in her gaze. She couldn’t bring herself to verbalize and she prayed her eyes conveyed. That he was safe with her. And how happy she was that he trusted her. Chose her.
He rested his arms on the edges of the tub, legs drawn up, knees touching either side. The pose was one of confidence and bravery but the hard flex of muscle across his chest and arms said he was holding on tight. The stern set of his jaw showed his determination. He’d not hold back no matter how scared he was. He was going to jump into that place where he gave her things that couldn’t be ungiven. Things he couldn’t be a human without. He was putting himself in her hands and she felt the weight of that gift.
The responsibility had her shaking. What if she dropped him? Broke him? His lips pa
rted and the fire in his gaze said he was ready and burning for what she had offered. Her body responded on its own, not needing instruction or coaching. She placed her hands on his knees, gliding her fingers along the inside of his open thighs. She held his gaze, and he slowly laid his head back, surrendering to her.
The green light set her on fire and she surrendered to what begged to take her. A hunger to consume him with pleasure and passion. She took firm hold of his manhood in both hands. His brows drew together hard and he pulled his head forward with a gasp. Eyes locked on her, burning up with heat and unspoken demands. She answered it in an equal silence, sliding her hands slowly up and down him. His mouth turned hard with his clenched jaw and he rolled his hips with a strained grunt that called for more of the same.
She gripped him even tighter in response, working her hands in opposite direction, one squeezing down to the very base and the other to the top for a slow, hard, circling around the thick head.
The harsh breaths he gave when she did that made her clit tingle and throb. Desire emboldened her to kneel until her legs pressed into his. She let go of her moans, letting him know how hot she was, how much she liked seeing him feel good. She lowered her gaze, watching him in her hands, watching the way he thrust for it.
“You like this?” The question shook between her eager breaths.
He answered her with a harsh groan and several nods. She stared into his eyes, making sure they said the same. She found a silent beg to take him where he didn’t dare ask her in the blue depths. She answered it with a lusty hiss, gripping him even tighter.
“Yes,” he gushed, clenching his eyes.
She let his body tell her all the secrets he couldn’t say. The way he responded to her harsh grip, like it drew out that vulnerable person he was scared to become, made her drunk with the purpose to bring him out. Her own desire had her to the point of shameless moans edged with lusty hunger. She spoke to him with it, saying yes. Yes. I like you like this. I like making you this person, I like taking you to this place.
She pushed his legs back, wishing she could open him wider. He choked on a harsh grunt when she circled the head tightly again, spreading his pre-cum all over.
“God, yes,” she said in amazement, moving her other hand quickly along his shaft to the very base.
He let go of the tub and gripped her hand with his and cupped his balls with the other. She met his gaze to see what he wanted and whimpered at the harsh demands in his eyes. Her brazen courage faltered under the dominance in his stare and grip of his fingers on hers. He’d gone from yes do it to do it now and don’t fucking stop.
Rosie returned her focus to doing just that, her moans becoming frantic with his desire. His grip on her hand bit, and rough growls edged his every breath as he approached his orgasm. She watched him, his head back again, his mouth open as it slowly took his body over.
“Yes, yes,” she gasped, working her hands faster.
His head shot forward with strained panting, his gaze hard on what she did now before it shot up to hers. “Fuck,” he gasped, opening his mouth with drawn brows, not breaking eye contact.
“Do it,” she urged, moving her hands so fast and hard along him. She glanced down and suddenly lowered, taking the thick head of his cock into her mouth and sucking frantically.
He held her head and bucked his hips, coming instantly with rough snarls, his fingers pulling her hair in a painful grip that forced electricity into her clit.
Wave after wave gripped him and then finally he slowed, she slowed, watching his stomach and chest heaving, his moans sated and amazed.
It made her smile. “I did good?” she had to know, crawling her way to his mouth.
“Oh God,” he barely muttered, his head still back and his eyes closed. “Good,” he breathed, shaking his head a little. “That’s a stupid word for what that was.” Her smile grew and he finally brought his head forward. “That was traumatic.”
She did a giggling victory dance and he pulled her to him for a long soft kiss.
“Now I’m scared,” he whispered in her mouth, his fingers stroking incessantly along her face and neck.
“Why?” she asked, pulling back, worried.
“That you’ve woken a beast.”
She smiled and climbed on his waist. “I’m not scared.”
“You should be,” he murmured, angling his head while she gave him soft kisses. “He’s very naughty. He likes to toy with his food then gobble it all up. Then he spits it back out, nurses it to health only to do it all over again. A vicious cycle.”
She laughed and he smiled up at her. “What if I told you it’s my secret desire to get toyed with and gobbled up?”
His gaze slowly lowered to her breasts and he reached up and held them with a weighing touch. “We’re a mess aren’t we, Rosie?”
His eyes lifted back up to hers, edged with that serious glint. Rosie held onto his hands and nodded. “I think so. A perfect mess.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Josh
His body ached in all the right places. The sweet scent of her clung to his skin like fine silk that he couldn’t get enough of and had to breathe in just one last time. She positively glowed, sitting opposite him on the bed. She wore his shirt, buttoned up and stopping just at that spot that made him want to reach over and flick the top button so that he could see her again. She held the mug in her hands, leaning it on her bent knee. He was utterly mesmerised by her. She didn’t even realise it.
“What are you smiling at?” she asked, tilting her head to the side to look at him. She didn’t have a fucking clue did she? How special she was. No one … no one at all ever got this close to him.
“You,” he whispered. “Just you.”
She smiled and looked away from him, causing him to laugh.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a few moments and when she raised her head, her expression questioning him, he added, “about just storming in. I shouldn’t have.”
“I’m glad you did.”
He wanted to believe that, he really did, but women … William’s mother had taught him long ago that they were just the same as men. No version was different. All of them out for their own sick and twisted need and it didn’t matter who they stood on to get there. It was hard for him to believe it, though, with Rosie. She didn’t seem to have a malicious bone in her body. It made him wonder what her story was … the full story.
“What happened to your face,” she asked eventually. “And your arm?”
He touched his fingers to his forehead. He’d forgotten that. “I tripped, it’s nothing.” Tripped? How many times had he used that excuse as a child? So much so that they considered diagnosing him with dyspraxia for being so damn clumsy. “I was getting off my bike and my foot caught. That’s all. Stupid shit.”
“And your arm?”
“I told you earlier,” Josh said, crossing his arms over to hide them. Not that it was much use, they were covered in marks. Years of them. His skin had long ago become his canvas on which he wrote every ounce of pain he felt. It was better there, where he couldn’t feel the weight of it in his chest.
“No,” she leaned over, delicately pulling his arm down.”
He stared where she was looking, across his skin. Silver lines marred his arm where he had cut over and over across the years. Scars that had never properly healed. The angry marks from nights ago, the gash from last night.
“You can tell me, you know. Remember where I work?”
He raised his eyes to meet hers. Her beautiful, dark eyes, staring up at him, full of caring and love … love. Could she ever do that did she think? Love him? The impossible creature that deserved nothing from anyone. He opened his mouth to speak, suddenly feeling like he could tell her. He could tell her everything, but what would he say to her? I did it to myself? It was so pathetic, even saying the words in his mind, let alone saying them to someone else.
She smiled sweetly at him, the gentle curve in her mouth giving that slight dimple she
had. She put her mug in the side table and crawled to him. She raised her hand to his face, laying her soft warm palm against his stubbled chin. He leaned into it, feeling the full warmth of it and taking selfish comfort from her touch. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
He covered her hand with his, angling his head so that he could kiss the inside of her palm and breathe the scent of her in. He brought his own hand up to her face, pushing back her hair so that he could look at just how beautiful she was. He opened his mouth, closed it again reminiscent of some stupid goldfish. He closed his eyes, sighing.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Whatever it is. Tell me now, tell me later, but promise to tell me?” She held his face with both of her hands, one on either side, tilting his head to her. The sound of his stubble against her soft skin.
“One day.”
She bit her lip, staring right into his eyes, looking at each of them in turn, studying him with such scrutiny that he was sure she could see right inside him. Maybe she would see the darkness there. She would see what ugly monster lived inside him—William. And then she would cast him away like everyone else did.
He lowered his head a little, her hands still on his face. He smiled, not being able to contain it, as he raised his eyes only to meet hers again.
“What?” she asked.
“I have such a perfect view of your breasts here,” he said, angling his head to peer down the entire length of her.
“Joshua,” she scolded playfully, smacking him against the chest throwing him off balance. She laughed when he landed on the floor with a thud. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she said between fits of laughter as she stared at him from the edge
He lay on his back, staring up at her before leaning on his elbows. “Yes, I can clearly see that.”
“Well it’s your own fault,” she sniggered.
“Ha. No. You flash your boobs at me and expect me not to look. You owe me now,” he said with a smirk on his face. He reached up, grabbing hold of her wrist and pulled. She didn’t get time to react as she landed right on his groin, sending him groaning in pain.
