Winter's Absolution (Obsidian Blades MC Book 1)

by Kristina Canady

  Skin beneath my hands begins to shutter at my touch as my fingertips glide over every inch of her, my lips greedily exploring the surface as well. It would be so easy to rush this, to shove myself into her silky pussy and selfishly get mine. But true pleasure for a man like me comes from giving her a safe place and a skilled hand to help her mentally ascend to a whole new place, one free of any worries, any stress. Disconnected from her body as her soul soars to the greatest heights, that’s exactly where I am going to take her. I’ve been worshiping her backside for a while, now it’s time to turn it up.

  “Roll over onto your back.”

  “Mhmm?” she hazily replies, already zoning out.

  “I want to see you, taste you, and fuck every inch of you. Roll over, wife.” The way it rolls off my tongue is addicting, the possession in it feeding my guilty pleasure, domination. She slowly does so, but not before I catch a minute shift in her features that doesn’t sit well with me.

  “What is goin’ on in that beautiful mind of yours, lover?” Intentionally, I change the attempt at a pet name to gauge her reaction, sure enough, her brow relaxes more as she eases back. Interesting.

  “Just don’t know what you have up your sleeve, mister.”

  Her legs are pressed together in a closed off way that is disagreeable. Planting my palms on the insides of her thighs, I splay her out. Reaching under her, I dig my fingers into her hips and jerk her toward me.

  “Fuck, I’m starvin’,” I purr as I dip between her milky thighs. Her spicy scent lights up my nose making my excited dick painfully hard.

  At the first swipe of my tongue, she arches off the bed in an overreaction, her anticipation of what’s next obvious. Taking my sweet time, I drag my tongue along her seam, not ready to commit to anything just yet.

  “Fuck! I hate you,” she cries in frustration as my lips smile against her flesh. Such a dirty mouth for such a pretty thing. I slip my tongue in deep enough to touch her opening, lazily drawing circles around it, never penetrating. She tries to thrust her hips into my face, but I stop her with a heavy hand across her thigh before pressing down on her lower stomach. The slap rings out as she stills, contemplating the new sensation now added to what my mouth was up to. She doesn’t use her safe word so I give her one more on the other thigh before moving up to feather special kisses on her clit.

  “Oh God, yes.”

  “God has nothin’ to do with it.” I chuckle before dragging back down past where her sweet juices are already flowing, down to her asshole. She slams her feet onto my shoulders and clenches her thighs in a vice around my head. Sensing this was going to easily be another trigger if I am not careful, I circle around the opening, lulling her to slowly release her death grip. With a few strokes of my tongue, she relaxes enough for me to ease the tip in to that puckered hole that I haven’t claimed yet. She tightens again, but I charge forward, easing in a bit further, rolling as I go to increase the sensations. Before long, her thighs fall open. I am able to pick up my pace and run my tongue around her rim, something I’ve been dying to do from the start. Moans that don’t even sound human begin to seep from her chest, the full body trembling back and better than ever. I’ve always loved driving a woman to that place where their entire body convulses, and they have no control. Wanting to see what I can get away with, I remove the hand holding her thigh and slip a finger between her lips, finding that plump little pearly clit waiting for attention. She violently shutters on impact, and I use the momentum to shove my tongue deeper into her ass.

  “Oh, fuck, yes!” she screams as her hips try to rock under the firm hold of my other hand. I have her pinned still and don’t plan on letting her go just yet.

  “Oh, Leo, yes, right there.” Her voice deepens as the pulsations take her closer to a release. Her thighs come back up around my head and she falls eerily quiet, her breath coming in rapid, shallow puffs, she is about to tip over. Withdrawing my tongue from her ass, I squeeze her thighs hard, pulling her back from the precipice.

  “Why’d you stop!” she cries out, true tears of frustration thick in her eyes. She’s used to me getting her off a few times before I even try to get mine.

  Refusing to answer, I grab her by the legs and flip her over onto her stomach. Fingers on hips, I guide her ass backwards, toward my waiting cock.

  “Leo?” she asks, confused.

  I rub my dripping pre-cum into the crack of her ass in response. This is the only hole she hasn’t let me breach, and judging by the way she’s acted when it comes up, I know all too well the reasons why. I’ve killed that motherfucker good and dead, but his memory still haunts her, and I hate it. I’ve reclaimed her pussy, and I’m about to do the same her to her ass. It is mine, she, is mine.

  Lining up with her entrance, I gently push my head into the puckered flesh, coating it.

  “Leo.” She sits up and grits in warning and tries to pull away, yet no safe word is spoken.

  Lacing one forearm around her stomach to hold her, I use the other hand to strum her clit once more. Peppering light kisses down her neck, the tension in her body instantly lowering as she sways to the rhythm I’m setting.

  “That’s it baby, lean forward. Ass up, chest down.”

  She falls forward, chest on the bed, the globes of her cheeks perfectly up. Planting a few more kisses down her spine, my fingers keep dancing as I push my cock a little harder. She shudders but doesn’t tell me to stop, and neither do her nonverbal cues. Going with the flow of her body, I wait for the first quake to tidal through before going further. This is a game of patience and using her pleasure to my advantage. Her flesh goose bumps under my lips as she moans my name, telling me that I am almost there. Jesus, I am about to black out from the pain in my hard cock. No one has ever gotten me as excited as this woman does, ever.

  Liquid pours from her, coating my torturous fingers, hot and slippery. Her response is like striking gold, a complete validation of my efforts. Shifting my hips, I drop the head of my dick to sweep across the natural lubrication coursing from her and drag it back up to that tight hole. Her body jerks backwards as she pants harder.

  “Yes, darlin’, just like that.” Pushing up as her hips buck backwards again, my head slips past her opening with a pop. She jerks forward but I hold her in place. “Give it a minute, that’s the worst part, the burnin’ will stop,” I huskily manage as I fight the need to pound her ass. My cock twitches as she strangles my dick, the tightness taking me to another level. I’ve never had a woman feel like this, so damn tight, fuck the things she does to me. Seconds tick by in agony as I wait for her to adjust. Sweat drips down my face, splashing onto her pale back. Her hole slowly gives way a little more, giving me permission to inch further in. Her whole body convulses under the light of the moon as I go, the sight more beautiful than I could ever explain. I tried to stop myself from going deeper, to make my dick behave, and give her more time but I couldn’t. A man can only be so strong in the hands of the woman who so easily brings him to his knees.

  My greedy cock slams all the way in, forcing a guttural cry to bellow from her chest, the sound fueling my ravenous state. Her agony mixes with her body’s reaction, her arousal gushing out and round my knuckles. I finger fuck her a few times, needing that shit all over my hand before retreating back to her clit. Strumming it again, I slowly withdrawal from her whimpering form and bend to spit on my cock. I knew that maneuver didn’t feel good, we weren’t using lube, but the pain I knew it caused her got me even harder, if that was possible. She knew she married an asshole though.

  I slam in to the hilt again, nothing gentle about it, all while making sure her clit gets all the special attention that it needs. Pulling back half way, I do it again. Her cries of frustration driving me.

  “Luna, you okay baby?” Not sure if any answer would make me stop, but, as her husband, it was important for me to ask, to try, and keep our trust.

  She slams her hips backwards. “Fuck that hurts so fucking good.” This surprises the hell out of me. I thought
I was pushing the limits with her. Turns out, she is a little pain slut. And doesn’t that little fact make my inner bastard’s horns perk up.

  Letting go of her waist, I dig my fingers into her hips and begin to pound, making her take every inch of me over and over, as hard as I can give it.

  “Yes!” she screams through snot and tears dripping from her face.

  “Yes baby, you are my dirty little whore for life. God I fucking love you so much.”

  She doesn’t answer, lost in the moment, her body fused with mine as we race toward the finish line. Our bodies are slick, making it difficult to maintain a grip. Sweat rains down from my tightly coiled body as I make her ass mine, once and for all. Don’t know why this was important, and fuck if I care. My thighs flex, and my balls draw up tight, heat burning in my belly. The white hot tingling begins, and I know I am there.

  “Come with me, baby.”

  I press harder against her clit and thrust deep. Her body rolls into me as she climaxes, screaming my name, catapulting me into ecstasy.

  “Luna,” I growl as my hot load shoots into her, my hips driving forward a few last times to milk my shaft into her tight-as-fuck hole. Now it’s my turn to quake, head to toe, as I collapse onto her back, unable to function or see straight. I’m dizzy as hell and feel much like a submissive does, lost in subspace. My fast breaths spread across the back of her neck as my winded lungs try to get enough oxygen. The room begins to spin so I roll us to our sides, slipping my dick out of her but staying close. Her head is turned to the side, eyes glazed as she stares off into the nothing. I don’t even want to bother asking her what she might be thinking about. Pulling the comforter over us, I lose the ability to speak myself as the after effects take hold, subspace wrapping its euphoric embrace around us both. Her breathing deepens and her body stills. It takes me longer but soon the sandman wins. One thing about us sleeping in the same bed, I haven’t woken up from a nightmare in months. Honestly, this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. This day tops the day Silver pulled me out of the dumpster in that alley and gave me a family, gave me a home. She is now my home.

  Luna

  Something sounds in the middle of the night, startling me awake with a gasp. Sitting straight up, the blankets fall away from my sore body as my eyes try to adjust to the dark and figure out what’s going on. Did I dream the sound? My skin is flushed as I rub my damp face with the back of my hand, my heart is continually racing. Fuck I’m exhausted. But there is no going back to sleep now. Slipping out from under the covers, Leo’s subtle snore resonates from the bed as I search for my sweats. The richness of his voice is evident even in his sleep habits, every ounce of him a balm to my nerves.

  Unsure of why I’m jumpy, I head to the living room and curl up with the laptop. Steel limps out of the bedroom to join me, settling on the floor by my feet. He’s getting much better; hopefully will back to his old self in no time. Opening up my email, butterflies dance in my stomach as I see the correspondences from the University, reinforcing my progress, and aspirations coming to light. From the moment I saw my mother begin to crumble before my eyes, becoming a slave to the shit in her head, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. A head doctor. When I was young, I didn’t know the real name for them, I just knew that doctors existed to fix broken things, so I summed up that there had to be one for crazy. She hadn’t been acting right after my dad died but was functional, that’s when I made the silent vow to become a doctor to fix it and bring my momma back. Her issues turned into a full blown disease once my grandparents went up to join their son. She had been close to them since her parents had passed before I was born. Not sure I can ever let go of her abandoning me in the ways she did, but perhaps one day I will be able to forgive her. I thought I had while caged up, I thought I had forgiven everyone that had ever done me wrong. Walking into that house, and seeing myself being that removed from her life, showed me how much more self-work I had to do if I was going to be good to anyone in regards to the field I wanted to practice in.

  One spiritual book that caught my full attention, it talked about our souls, and how they choose our major life events before we are born. Even the bad ones. The thought was, our soul’s goal is always to be evolving and each challenge or bit of conflict that arises is a lesson toward the ultimate intension. One could argue that the hell on earth I’ve been through was a choice my soul made for my overall growth, perhaps in order to one day be someone who helps others through the same thing, a light in the dark for those who cannot see. The thought of a chance to help others in the slightest, especially the girls that were down there with me, gave me great peace. So whether or not this whole theory is a crock, I did believe with all of my being that I needed to help other victims in some way.

  My own recovery has given me more of a lesson in the field I love than any book or lecture ever could. Add to that the new concepts of mind, body, and spirit medicine Leo’s adoptive family gave me an aggressive crash course in, I felt my life’s mission starting to fall into place. Shit, for the first time in my life I’m starting to feel that I have a real purpose, period. A purpose and a new family. My lungs draw in a deep breath as anxiety creeps in. I’m somebodies wife. My chest begins to burn. There, that’s exactly why I’m having a panic attack. In less than a year, I’ve started to find my way back to myself, find my voice, and learned to function around people again. In less than 24 hours, I confronted my lying ass mother, and ran off and got hitched. It’s like a midlife crisis or something. What’s next? A convertible?

  If this is how I’m feeling, why did I agree to marry him so soon? I should have taken more time just to get to know him. I should have taken more time to get my life together. What if he wants kids? What if he doesn’t like to travel? What if he hates Thai food? I don’t even know if I like Thai food but what if I do? I’m pretty sure I don’t want to ever have kids, and I really want to travel even if that means I have to sneak weed in a plastic baggy jammed up my ass everywhere I go since a little puff-puff on that is the only way I can handle crowds these days. With him at my side, I can get through anything. My hand clutches at my chest as I open up a new word document and let my fingers fly across the keyboard in an attempt to make sense of what is going on in my head. Writing it out has been a great way for me to figure out what I really mean when clarity is hard to find. My fingers soar all on their own as I process.

  “Dearest Husband, God that is a weird thing to type. Anyways, it’s three o’clock in the morning and an impending panic attack decided I needed to get up. I need to thank you for loving me when I couldn’t love myself, and thank you for loving me past my brokenness. Your eyes are the only ones that ever saw me as whole, even in my worst moments. Thank you for helping me start a new life, one that I am proud of, one that included clothes on my back and food in my stomach, one day I hope to repay you somehow. I’m sitting here trying to figure out what is wrong with me at the moment and it is boiling down to one simple thing. I need to pick me. I need to know that I can stand alone in the world without you as a crutch, I need to prove to myself that I am capable, and that I am strong beyond measure. When we are together, I feel unstoppable. Alone, I feel as if basic functioning is a process, a difficult one at that. I hate that, I hate that I don’t feel complete unless I’m with you. That’s a level of attachment I didn’t realize I wasn’t ready for. I have no regrets, and I sure as hell don’t regret marrying you, so please don’t take this the wrong way. I need time to find myself, to learn to be complete on my own. My issues are not yours to bear, they are mine alone. I don’t know when I will come back, but hope that with time, I will find my way back to you. I will make you two promises here and now, I swear on the grave of my daddy that I will come back, and that I will never share my body with another. Please don’t come try to find me and drag me back, please give me the freedom to fly, and let’s see what happens. I love you more than all of the stars in the sky, I love you more than the moon, now let me go learn how to love myself with the sam
e conviction. I think leaving in the middle of the night is the best way, it’s the only way you will let me go. Don’t hate me, husband.”

  Tears fall on to the keyboard as my hands hover, finally understanding what it is that I really want, what I really need. I need freedom, I need to have the breadth to fall and pick myself back up, I need to learn to really love myself. I will never fully heal until I can accomplish those things. Staying here under the spell of what we share will keep me further from a true understanding. He’s going to hate me. Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab my cellphone off the charger and text the one person who would understand, asking a huge favor in the dead of night. Her response is almost immediate, she being a perpetual night owl, up at all hours reading. I grab a pen and paper and handwrite out the letter I typed, as that seemed like a more personal touch to something that might rip his heart out. Tears continue to fall, smearing my name at the end, and I use every fiber of my being to get up and pack a bag. Steel just watches me, sadness in his eyes like he knows, but he doesn’t move from his spot on the couch, he lets me do what needs to be done.

  Duffle bag in hand, new purse with actual photo ID, social security card, and birth certificate included thanks to the amazing extended family he gifted to me, I march all the way to the end of the long drive to meet the oncoming headlights. My breath clouds in the air as she comes to a stop, and I open the passenger door.

  “Where to sweetheart?” Wingz’s voice gently probes in the middle of the night.