by T Steele
“Can I touch you now?” My voice comes out breathy and husky.
“Fuck, yes.”
I lightly slide my fingernails along the hem of his shirt before lifting it over his head. I run my hands along his abs, relishing the feel of his skin against mine. You don’t realize how touch starved you are until you actually let someone you trust touch you.
“I like the way you look, too,” I whisper, leaning forward, placing a kiss to his chest.
He chuckles, and I feel the vibration on my lips.
Then I take a deep breath and fiddle with the button of his black pants. I’m so nervous that it takes a couple of times to get them unbuttoned, but I eventually get the job done. I start to tug them down and he stands, helping me get them off.
His erection stands proud, and I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at it, before looking up at him. Without thinking, I reach out and run my fingers along the soft skin, and Nixon lets out a harsh breath.
“Show me how,” I rasp.
“Fuck me, you’re sexy as hell,” he grits out with heavy-lidded eyes. “Open for me.”
I do, and he brings his hips forward so I can wrap my lips around his cock.
“Fuuuck,” he groans.
I flick my tongue over the soft tip, and his head falls back. I move forward, trying to take as much of him in as I can until my gag reflex goes into overdrive. My head slides back quickly, tears instantly springing to my eyes. I blink rapidly, and something salty drips into my mouth, and I realize he’s about to cum.
I glance up at Nixon to make sure I’m doing this right, and he stares at me as if I’m the answer to all his prayers. Then, when his fingers enter my hair, gripping tightly, it’s all the reassurance I need. I can tell he wants to thrust faster, and he’s trying to be as gentle as possible with me, but I want to give him what he needs. This may be my first time doing this, but I will give him the greatest blowjob that I possibly can, dammit! I start moving rapidly, up and down. My hands shift behind him to grip his ass, it’s so firm, and I remind myself to give it a more thorough examination later. The thought of seeing Nixon naked from behind spurs me on, and I tighten my suction on him. His breathing is loud and fast, and I feel his hands tighten in my hair.
“I’m gonna cum in your mouth if you don’t stop,” he pants. His voice is deep and ragged, and I realize that I want to find out what he tastes like, so I keep going.
His hips are now bucking against my face. His thrusts turn jerky and quick, and then he’s spilling his release inside me. I try to catch it all, but some spills out, dripping down my chin. He pulls out of my mouth, gazing down at me in awe with wide, intense eyes. I lick my lips, wiping some of his release off my face with the back of my hand, and then licking it clean. My first time tasting cum and it wasn’t at all like I had expected, but I find that I like it. Liked Nixon’s salty taste.
His mouth goes slack-jawed, and his eyes turn heavy-lidded. When he closes his mouth, licking his lips, he says, “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Then he’s pulling me up and kisses me hard. “You’re amazing,” he says between kisses. “So amazing.”
My breasts rub against his chest, and I feel him hardening once more. I want him to do the final act. I want to give him this piece of myself. I want to give him all of me. Not because I feel like I owe him for what he's done, but because I feel alive and wanted to be happy for the first time ever. The weight of my psychotic teacher isn’t hanging over us right now, and I don’t want it to come back. I want to forget the bad right now and only feel. Not only the physical connection but the emotional one too. The raw, carnal want and need that only Nixon can give me.
“I want all of you,” I say, swallowing. His eyes close for a moment, and he lets out a breath. When he opens them, they’re smoldering and relieved.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He squeezes me to him and takes all my breath with the kiss he gives me. It’s devouring and hot, lips and tongue sliding against each other. Swallowing the other’s gasps and moans, filled with promises of pleasure to come.
His calloused hands come up to cup my breasts, and he makes that same deep noise in the back of his throat. He bends to my level and takes one of my nipples into his mouth. I cry out, my sex pulsing and aching for him to give me more. To give me everything.
His tongue glides out, licking and stroking as he moves his head slowly back and forth, making sure each nipple gets equal attention. His eyes remain on me—watching, observing my every expression. There’s a wicked gleam in his gaze that says he’s claiming me. That even though he’s pleasuring me, it’s for him too, and now that he has my consent, he’s taking everything and then some.
He pulls back and pushes me down on the bed. The breath leaves my lungs in one harsh exhale. Excitement and anticipation pierce through me, wondering what he’ll do next.
He grins. “You like when I’m a little rough, hmm?” he murmurs in that deep rasp of his.
I blush, but I look him in the eye. “Yes.”
He hisses in a breath through his teeth as he bites his lips, shaking his head. “Have I died and gone to heaven?”
I let out a breathy laugh. “I’m wondering the same thing.”
“I will have you calling to the heavens soon, little fox. That’s if you don’t lose your voice first from screaming my name.” The wicked gleam in his eyes turns even more wicked as he grins down at me with a wolf's smile.
Then, he sobers. “It will hurt at first, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“I know,” I say. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I’d rather cut off my own arm than cause you pain. And fuck me, I know I don’t deserve this, but I’ll try to be worthy of you. I’ll be gentle with you. I’ll make it so good that no other fuckers will ever be good enough.”
“I believe you,” I whisper.
He moves over to his nightstand and opens the drawer, pulling out a condom. He rips the wrapper with his teeth and then sheaths it over his cock, which hardens further the more he looks at me.
“You look just the way you did in my dreams,” he whispers roughly, and then he crawls on top of me.
His words make me feel beautiful, and it helps to quell some of my nerves.
His mouth goes to my nipples and he sucks. Hard. I moan, core throbbing, clenching and begging for friction, which he gives. His finger finds my small bundle of nerves, and he moves it in tiny circles. If he keeps up his ministrations, it won’t be long until I reach my second orgasm.
His mouth leaves my breasts to come up and ravage my mouth. When I feel his tongue swipe across my bottom lip, I also feel the soft tip of his cock at my entrance. We both gasp together, and he pulls back to watch my face. I close my eyes, his facial expression is so tender that I can’t bear it. I don’t want him to see my nerves and fear, or my expression when the pain comes.
“Ella,” he whispers. “Look at me.”
My eyes pop open. His face is tight, and I wonder what it feels like for him, so close to being inside of me.
He presses his fingers back to my clit and moves them gently, and then he pushes further inside me. My body feels full and stretched, and I bite my lip.
“Does it hurt too bad?” He croaks out through gritted teeth.
“No,” I whisper. “Keep going.”
He does and the pain intensifies, and Nixon clenches his eyes shut tightly as if he’s the one in pain. His nostrils flare, and he takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself.
His fingers keep up their gentle rhythm on my clit and he pulls out a little bit, then slowly comes back in. He does this a few times more, so I can attempt to accommodate his bigger size.
He’s trying so hard not to hurt me, but I want the pain over with.
“Just do it,” I say.
“Are you sure?” he grits out.
“Yes.” I even lift my hips slightly to accentuate my point.
He pauses, clenchin
g his eyes shut tightly, and then he does it.
My nails dig into his back, and I cry out as he fills me to the hilt.
His eyes look tormented and he brings a hand up to my sweaty brow, smoothing the hair out of my face and gently stroking my cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, kissing my lips. “I know it hurts.”
I give a small smile just for him.
He brings his hand to my breasts, gently tweaking my nipple with his thumb and forefinger, and I arch my back. Then, his hips press against my pubic bone, and he starts gently moving them in circles.
It’s still uncomfortable, but more like a dull ache, and eventually, the pain starts to fade.
His eyes bore into mine, and he starts moving in earnest. Slowly at first, making sure I’ve adjusted and am no longer in pain. His hand trails down my leg, and he wraps it around his hip while his fingers find my small bundle of nerves again. He starts moving faster and faster, our skin slapping against each other, echoing throughout the room. The sound mixes with my moans of pleasure, and Nixon grunts, biting his lips so hard I can tell there may be blood, and then I’m over the edge. My bliss is explosive, just like the way Nixon makes me feel, and then Nixon finds his release, roaring into the night.
Chapter 20
Nixon
“He’s only gonna be here for a week,” Ella says, looking down at her phone, sitting with me at the kitchen table. “I could just email my teacher and say I have a really bad case of the flu.”
She’s talking about fucking Tackett. We’ve been holed up in my apartment for two days now. But tomorrow is Monday, and we’ll have to leave at some point. But I hope she knows I’ll be her shadow, not leaving her side for one fucking second. She’s afraid, and she senses my need to protect her. My need to make Tackett go away, and she’s trying to deflect. Trying not to show me how afraid she is, and I’m reminded of how destructive I can be at times. How I’m always ready to jump up and destroy. I realize this is Ella trying to protect me, trying to keep me from acting out of anger.
“I have a fight tonight,” I say.
“You’re changing the subject,” she huffs.
“I think you should take the money I get from this fight and go home, stay with your family for a little bit. Maybe plan a vacation somewhere with them.”
She drops her phone, a deep frown marring her features. “What?” she whispers.
I try to gentle my tone, though it’s hard when Tackett’s face fucking appears in my mind just like it’s always there torturing me, torturing her. “He’s here now, Ella. He knows you’re here. He’s not going to stop following you or leave you alone. I want you to be safe.”
“I’d be leaving you,” she says. “And I’m not just going to take your money.”
“It’s either you leave, or I kill him,” I say harshly, causing her to flinch, but I can’t help it. I can’t see her sad because I’ll do anything to make the emotion go away. Just like I’m willing to do anything to take away her pain. Her fear.
“How do we make him go away without committing murder or me having to leave you?” she asks, wringing her hands and then tapping her fingers on the table.
“I don’t think…I don’t think I can tell anyone now. It’s been too long,” she says, not looking me in the eye. “Besides, would the police even believe me? We’ve already gone to them once, and if I was going to say anything about the stuff back in high school, I should have done it then.”
“I understand,” I say sincerely. “But if you did decide that you wanted to tell the police or your parents, if that was what you wanted to do, I would support you and stand by your side.”
Those blue eyes of hers slay me when they meet my gaze. “What—what exactly happened that day?”
I know she’s talking about the day I found the pictures and beat the shit out of Tackett.
“I broke into his room, planning to steal his wallet or something of his to sell. My sperm donor had taken all our money the night before, and my mom and I were starving,” I say. Anger seeps into my voice and there’s nothing I can do about it. The past is hard to talk about, but I can’t lie to Ella again.
“I found the pictures instead. He walked in on me right when I found them, and I just lost it.” I pause for a beat and stand from my chair, starting to pace. I need to move, I can’t talk about this without moving. “I would have killed him if Principal Bradley hadn’t walked in and stopped it. I told them what had happened. Or more like, I screamed it as the police had dragged me out of there, but they’d thoroughly searched him, and there was nothing. Fucking nothing. I was locked up shortly after, and I’ve always wondered how Tackett got rid of the evidence.” She flinches when I say his name, and I cringe, realizing it’s the first we’ve said it aloud.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I imagine even the sound of his name is hard to hear.”
“A name only carries power if you give it power,” she says quietly. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.” Her eyes meet mine, filled with unshed tears, and I walk over to her and bring her into my arms.
“I’m sorry, too. But it wasn’t your fault. I promise.”
“Tell me about your childhood,” she whispers, and I tense. “If you want to,” she adds as an afterthought.
Do I want to? Hell fucking no, but there’s something in my brain, something deep down that I’ve kept so neglected and smothered that’s urging me to tell her, to confide in her. Telling me that she’ll understand. So I do. I tell her my story. What life was like growing up hungry and afraid. Trying to protect your mother because the man that should have been protecting her—protecting us—was the one torturing us. Abusing us. Hating us.
I don’t tell her precisely just how bad it got in detail, but she knows. I don’t have to tell her. Her eyes tell me that she suspected, and that she understands.
She cups my face in her hands. “You’re the bravest, most honorable person I know,” she says.
I bark out a surprised laugh. “That’s a compliment I’ve never received before.”
She doesn’t laugh. “I’m being serious.” She puts her hand over my heart. “You’re so good. Too good for this world.”
I swallow hard, because she tells me this with absolute sincerity in her expression and voice, and it’s almost too much for me to bear. Too much feeling. Too much emotion. It’s funny how when you want someone's trust and comfort the most, you can’t ever seem to get it. But then, when you actually do get it, you’re so used to being wounded that it doesn’t seem real.
“Are you even real?” I decide to ask. Ya know, just to be one hundred percent sure.
“Are you?” she counters back, smiling.
I kiss her lips because they’re soft and tempting as fuck and because I can.
***
Ella and I arrive at my fight that night, and I’m nervous. How does she really feel about the violence? How does she feel about me letting my anger out with my fists? She’s never seemed to mind, and she’s watched me fight a few times now, but I always wonder if it bothers her. Especially now that I’ve joined an MMA gym, pushing that much harder to reach my dream.
I shove the thought aside because I need the money, and I’m going to make her take it. I just want her out of here, far away from Tackett, until we come up with a better plan. I don’t know what fuck-face Tackett is doing, but he’s up to something, and with the way he’s been sending Ella “gifts”, I know he’s not just going to leave her alone. I’d wager that he’s been looking for her, or worse, keeping tabs on her this whole time.
Tonight the fight is at a skate park. It’s mostly private, lots of open space and concrete. It’s hard having them outdoors in case a cop is nearby, but when we do, I make more money. When there’s more room for the audience, then more people are buying tickets to get in. We walk up to the makeshift ring with the barricade and four mats in the center, and I squeeze Ella’s hand tighter. I don’t want any of the motherfuckers in here looking at her for too long, but if
they know she’s with me, they should know what’s good for them and not glance in her direction. Jake sees us, and he raises his brows with a shit-eating grin. Surprisingly, Waverly is by his side, she gives me a slight nod when she notices me, and I wonder if that means I’ve finally earned her public respect. I know she’s secretly liked me all along.
“Hey! Nix, you took my birthday present.”
“Don’t fucking talk about her like that.”
Jake throws his head back, laughing, and I have to grit my teeth. He’s the one who gets me the fights and the money. It’d be stupid of me to piss him off.
And I would never tell him this, but even though he’s a pain in my ass, I do consider him one of my best friends.
I look over at Ella, and she’s grinning. I roll my eyes. Okay, maybe I overreacted a tad. Or maybe a lot.
“Down boy,” Waverly says, now standing next to Ella, who purses her lips to suppress a laugh.
I glance back to Jake, who’s still fucking grinning like he knows a secret I don’t, and I’m reconsidering if I should actually punch him in the face. “I want you to stay by Ella while I fight tonight. Don’t leave her side, and don’t take your eyes off her.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Woah, what? Dude, she’s a grown woman. I doubt she needs a babysitter.”
“I know she’s a grown-ass woman. But I want her to be safe.” I know Waverly hasn’t told him the entire story of what’s actually going on, just that that teacher was the reason I’d went to prison. I have nothing to hide from Jake, but I know Ella wouldn’t want me to tell him what happened to her. “Last time she was here, some fucker put his hands on her, and I really don’t wanna go back to prison for murdering someone tonight,” I tell him, which isn’t a lie. It did happen the first time she came to one of my fights, but I want him to know how serious this is.
He nods, and for once looks somewhat understanding. “Ah, got it. No one looks at little Ella-bug.”
“Don’t nickname her.”
“I’ll give whoever the fuck I want a nickname, little Nixon.”
