by Adore Ian
Her arms tighten around me. “I wish you’d told me beforehand.”
“I could say the same about you.” I kiss the top of her head.
She groans. “You promise you’re not totally freaked out about how white trash I am?”
“You’re not white tr—”
“My mom tried to kill me—”
“Marrin, stop.” I level our eyes. “Is that why you didn’t want to tell me? You thought I’d think less of you?”
She shrugs, nods.
“What your family members do and don’t do is not a reflection of who you are. You aren’t them and they aren’t you. Only you can decide who you are and how you see yourself. What anyone else thinks is just an opinion, not a fact.” I smirk. “And you know what they say about opinions…?”
She smiles. “They’re like assholes. Everybody has one.”
“Exactly. So you had a shitty upbringing. So did I. It’s no big deal. It happens.”
She nods. “I’m sorry about what happened to you.”
“Thanks. It was a long time ago.”
“I know, but… If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.”
“Thank you. I feel the same. If you ever want to talk, I’m always here.”
“Thanks. I actually think I need to start seeing a therapist again,” she admits quietly.
“How come?”
She shrugs, tracing small circles on my chest with a finger. “All this stuff with you. How I acted. I guess you could say that’s my miniboss. Running away, keeping secrets… It’s how I’ve learned to protect myself. I’m clearly not as adjusted as I thought I was. And then…” She takes a deep breath. “Frank showed up on Thanksgiving. It’s why I called you. He’s never approached me before, usually just sits in his truck. But that night he got out and I almost didn’t get the door shut in time.”
I clamp down on my anger because it has no place in this conversation. “Did you ever call the cops? Or sic Gavin on his ass?”
She huffs a laugh. “The security camera didn’t show enough to prove it was him so it wasn’t worth getting the cops involved. Alice put a tail on him, though.”
“I wanna know what he looks like.”
She pulls away. “Please don’t do that.”
“Do what? I’m not going to go looking for him, but I want to know what he looks like in case he comes around.”
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“You’re mad I want to help protect you?”
“He’s dangerous, Damian.”
“Which is why I want to know what he looks like.”
She turns her head away. When she won’t let me pull her chin to me, I climb on top of her, straddling her waist and keeping my weight in my hands. “Hey, look at me.”
Begrudgingly, she does.
“Protecting the people I care about is something I do. I trust you not to abuse the information I’ve shared with you, and I want you to trust me not to abuse the info you’ve shared with me.”
“Are you going to punch him in the face like Jake?” she says dryly.
I grin. “I’ll admit, hitting Jake wasn’t my finest moment, but he was asking for it. He was trying to hurt you and it was the only way I could think to stop him. And trust me, if I hadn’t hit him, Vicky would’ve.” I nuzzle her face before pulling back. “I want to look out for you, Marrin. I want you to do the same for me.”
She fights a smile, powerless to resist my charms. “Who might I need to protect you from?”
“My mother for starters—and clowns. Always hated clowns.”
“Clowns?”
“Yeah. They’re always smiling. It’s creepy.” I settle beside her and she lets me pull her until she’s half on top of me. “I’m not going to see him and turn into a raging, territorial Neanderthal. But I can’t promise that if he approaches you again, I won’t have a few words with him.”
“I don’t need you to protect me,” she whispers.
“I know you don’t need it. You’re a testicle-kicking badass. But wouldn’t it be nice if I could help watch your back, share the burden of always looking over your shoulder?”
“I… never thought of it that way.”
“You’re welcome.” She flicks my stomach and I chuckle. “And don’t pretend like you’re not into my territorial, alpha-male Neanderthal when he comes out to play, Red.”
Her head pops up. “Is he coming to play right now?”
“Hmm…” I rub my chin. “I don’t know.”
She sits up, pulling off the shirt she’s wearing. I can clearly see the silhouette of her breasts.
I chuckle. “So eager.” Her tits press into my chest as she settles back into me. I tighten my hold on her and inhale deeply of her scent. “I think he just wants to hold you for now if that’s okay?”
She yawns. “I’d like that.”
“You don’t have to show me what Frank looks like if you’re not ready. But will you do something for me?”
“What?”
“Come with me to work tomorrow morning."
“Okay. What do you do for work? You’ve never told me.”
“You’ll see.”
23
Marrin
I wake up in my bed pressed against a warm, muscular body. A heavy arm is wrapped around me and my breasts are exposed. My spine stacks in panic.
“Just me,” Damian says.
My eyes land on his face and I remember how we got here. Heart still hammering, I settle back. “Sorry. It’s been a while since I woke up next to someone.”
“No worries.” His fingertips stroke my arm.
“How long have you been up?”
“Long enough to have brushed my teeth.”
My eyes narrow. “You weren’t watching me sleep, were you?”
“No, that’s creepy.”
“So what were you doing?” I’m careful to cover my mouth to spare him from my morning breath.
He gives me a sly smile. “Trying to decide which drawer holds all your red panties and how mad you’d be if I went looking.”
I bark a laugh and roll out of bed. I stretch, more than a little satisfied with the way Damian devours the sight of me. I walk to the door, tapping one of my dresser drawers. “Knock yourself out.”
I brush my teeth and see to my needs. When I return, Damian is elbows deep in my panty drawer.
“What’s this?” I point to the pairs he’s laid atop the dresser.
“This pile holds all the ones I’ve never seen you wear, and this one,” he points to the other pile, “holds the ones I’d like to see you wear again.”
I deliberate. “Okay.” I hook my thumbs in my panties and shimmy out of them.
Damian sucks in a breath. “What’s happening right now?”
Completely naked, I pick up a pair of red panties from the never-before-seen pile. “I thought you wanted to see.”
A muscle twitches near his eye and he grabs my wrist. “This isn’t going to work.”
“Oh?”
“Nope. Drop the panties, Red.”
“Yes, Sir.”
A thrill twirls my spine as he yanks me forward and thrusts my hand down his briefs. Liquid heat pools between my legs as I grasp his growing erection. “Don’t tease me, Red. Pull me out. Get me hard.”
Hello again, Mr. Alpha-Male Neanderthal.
I drop to my knees, removing his briefs as I go. I stroke his cock until its thick and full. A bead of pre-cum pools at the tip and I rub it on my lips like lipstick before sucking him into my mouth.
“Fuck, baby,” he hisses. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed your hot mouth on me.”
I work him in long pulls and sucks, swirling my tongue and humming around him.
He grabs my hair and pulls me off. “Did you miss me?”
I nod.
He cups my chin and strokes my cheek. “What did you miss?”
“Everything.”
He hauls me to my feet and presses his mouth over mine
. I welcome his tongue’s intrusion and the two fingers he forces inside my pussy. I gasp, try to moan, but he devours the sound, stealing the breath from my lungs and the thoughts from my head. He pushes me onto the bed and mounts me. My hand finds his powerful cock and I point him to my entrance. I need to get him inside me.
He chuckles and slides down my body, pulling himself from my hand.
I whine in protest.
“Patience, Red.” A hand to the chest forces me to lay back. He drinks in the sight of my breasts, groaning like a thirsty man in the desert. He palms me then works my nipples with his tongue.
It’s not enough and all too much.
Waves of pleasure flash through me like lightning. They shoot straight to my core and I clamp down on the emptiness there. The need to be filled grows more and more demanding, consuming. It’s been weeks since I’ve had Damian inside me and now that he’s within reach, my desire for him is maddening.
“I need you inside me, Sir.” I thread my fingers into his hair. “Please. I ache for you.”
“Keep talking,” he groans.
Filthy, dirty things come to my mind and I say and mean them all, drunk off my wanting. “I want you to fuck me with your cock, Sir. I want you to shove it inside me, stuff me with it until I’m forced to come for you. I want you to fill me with your hot cum as you use my body to pleasure yourself. I want you to dominate me, claim me in every way possible.”
He rolls away and hauls me on top of him, propping himself against the headboard. “Ride me,” he demands. “Hands on my thighs so I can watch that pretty little pussy swallow this big cock.”
Jesus H. Christ.
I situate myself over him, leaning back to find his thighs—
It’s broad daylight. This position puts me on display. My scars are completely exposed.
My mouth goes dry—everything goes dry—and I hesitate, a hand going to cover my lower abdomen.
Damian’s expression softens and he sits forward, stroking my face with two hands. “Hey. It’s okay. Do you want me on top?”
Yes.
“No.” I shake my head. “I can do it.” I grip his shoulders, holding him to me as I settle over his erection. His eyes never leave my face.
I sink down on him and don’t make it farther than an inch. I lift up and force myself down harder. I maybe get another inch of him inside me before it becomes painful, abrasive.
“Marrin—”
“I forgot how big you are,” I lie, trying to paint a trivial smile on my face.
I press down on him again and he grabs my hips. “Stop.”
“It’s fine I—”
“It’s not fine.” A finger presses into my core and I can’t keep the discomfort off my face. “You’re not wet anymore.”
“That’s not uncommon. Sometimes it happens—”
“Baby, stop.” He cups my face. “It’s okay.”
His expression, the tone of his voice—tears prick my eyes. “I’m fine.”
“Then why can’t you look at me?”
Well, you got me there.
“Oh fuck, you’re shaking.” He wraps himself around me and I melt into him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would upset you.”
“It doesn’t,” I say. “I mean it did, but it doesn’t. I just had, like, a momentary freak out. I’m sorry.”
“Do not apologize for the way you feel. This is my fault. I’m a greedy Neanderthal and I wanted to enjoy the sight of my woman impaling herself on me.” I huff a laugh and pull back to look at him. “I didn’t consider your feelings and I’m sorry.” He brushes hair back from my face.
“You’re forgiven. I do want to have sex like this, though.” He opens his mouth, but I add, “I just don’t know if I can start in that position. It felt like…” Like my scars were on display. “Like I was too exposed.”
“Fuck. I don’t ever want you to feel uncomfortable with me.”
“I don’t. That was a me thing, not a you thing. Normally, I really, really like it when you objectify me during sex.” I lean to the side and pull a bottle of lube from my nightstand drawer. “I want you like this. I promise. Letting you see my scars is…” Exposing in a different way. “New.”
He looks unsure but then I grab his hand and squirt lube on his fingers. I push him back into the headboard and guide his fingers to my vulva.
I close my eyes when he takes over—massaging the cool gel into my clit, coating my lips and the inside of my pussy. I put some on my hand and lather it over his cock, which comes back to life almost immediately.
He grabs my hip and adds another finger inside me. “Jesus, Marrin, this pussy is begging to be fed.”
His words seduce me back to that place where only sex and pleasure exist. I tighten my muscles around his fingers. “Keep talking.”
“You ready for me, baby? Ready for me to give you what you need?”
“Yes.” I angle his erection to me and let him guide my hips. He presses me down and my pussy swallows him whole in one motion. “So good,” I groan. Ecstasy races through me as I grind my hips to his.
“Fuck…” Damian curses. “Kiss me.”
“You’re so bossy.”
“You like it.”
I do.
Even after everything that’s happened to me, I still find pleasure in being dominated and put on display. Some people might not get it, but no matter whether I’m dancing at the 13th Floor or in bed with Damian, I’m completely at ease because I’m in control. I have agency and nothing happens without my permission. The club has strict rules about consent, and anyone who knows anything about fetish and kink knows it’s a world built on defining the boundaries so everyone feels safe. When Damian and I first decided to explore our kink with one another, establishing what consent meant to both of us was the first thing we did.
Damian squeezes my ass. “Give me your mouth. I want to fill you in two places.”
My pussy clenches and I obey, opening my mouth for him.
Gripping my hips, he pulls us apart then pushes us back together. He controls the pace, controls my body—controls the depth, force, and angle. I’m nothing but submission. Nothing but feeling, as his thick, powerful cock steadily plunges in and out of me in strong, full strokes.
“How do you want me?” I breathe into his mouth. He knows what I mean.
“Sit back. Hands on my thighs.”
I reach behind me and settle in, letting my body and spine arch back and away. My scars, breasts, and pussy are on full display for his viewing pleasure.
“Christ, you’re beautiful. A fucking gift for me and only me.”
My head falls back, eyes closed as he feeds me his cock how he wants. Uses me how he wants. I give him complete and utter control and it’s the most liberating thing in the world.
Everything slips away when we’re like this. I trust him implicitly. He knows how to take care of me, knows what I want, knows that sex isn’t just about getting off for me. I need more, need to get lost, to give over my sovereignty and let Damian be my king and conqueror. Here there are no decisions to be made, no anxiety over choice or fear or my past. There’s no need to think because I’m not in control, he is. If I need to stop, all it will take is one word. One safe word that technically gives me all the power. But I push it away because I don’t need it. I just need him.
“Look at me,” he rasps. “I want to see what my cock is doing to you.”
I lift my head and find his eyes heavy and lusty. He slows our pace to something reverent.
“Damian?” I whimper as he sinks full and deep.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He slides me over himself purposefully. The whole world narrowing to his cock, to how thick and long it is, to the slick sound of our bodies meeting, to the thousands of nerves alive with pleasure at the feel of his rhythmic movement inside my body.
It’s overwhelming. He’s overwhelming.
He hasn’t looked at me
the same way since I told him about what happened. But it’s not in the way I’d feared. He looks at me now like he sees all of me… or maybe he always has, only now I’ve let him see me up close. Like a painting by van Gogh. From far away it’s lovely and complete, but it’s not until you get up close that you see it’s really a mess. An intricate, brilliant, purposefully chaotic mess.
I think that’s the way I look at Damian now, too. There’s something sacred about it, about the trust between us.
About the fact that his bare cock is inside me. That he’s taking me raw, seeing me raw. He’s going to come inside me, taint me with his cum, and I’m going to let him because I trust him. I’m going to enjoy letting him be the one to claim me like that. Going to enjoy walking around with the physical proof of him having been inside me—having fucked me to completion—all day.
“Dame, I want to come for you.”
“What do you say, Red?”
“Please, Sir. Let me come.”
He reaches between my legs and draws tight, firm circles over my clit.
I curse, head falling back just before I detonate. Pleasure like chaos surges through me, sweeping me away. I hear him gasp and curse and I know he’s coming because his thrusts get harder, deeper. His hand clasps my hip hard enough to bruise and we’re both too gone to care.
I start to go limp as his cock contracts and expands. Warmth hits me in a place I can’t quite feel but am somehow aware of and I know he’s just emptied himself inside me. The thought is erotic and taboo, and I collapse onto his chest enjoying the idea that he’s somehow claimed me for himself. Marked his territory in such a way that all other men will somehow know and stay away.
Maybe I’m the Neanderthal in this relationship?
We lay in a pile on my bed. Panting and sweaty and smelling of sex.
After a time, Damian says, “I seem to remember a shower date we rain checked...”
I burst out laughing.
Part III
The Final Boss
In gaming, the final boss is the last computer-controlled enemy that a player must defeat at or near the end of the game in order to complete the game’s storyline. The final boss is usually the most powerful opponent in the game and is often hard or impossible to defeat without knowing the correct fighting approach or without having first acquired specific items or skills.
