by Amy Brent
“It's crazy, but it's true,” he said, pushing a strand of hair from my face so he could see me better. “I'm as surprised as you are, but you're one hell of a girl, Emmy.”
I could feel the color rushing to my cheeks, and I remembered what I had grabbed at the gas station earlier in the day. I hadn't had a chance to use it yet, but now, given everything we'd just confessed to each other, it seemed as good a time as any to talk about it.
“Good, I'm glad to hear you say that, Deacon,” I said, looking down at his shirt instead of his face.
I focused on the buttons, fidgeting with them out of nervousness – I had no idea how he was going to react to what I was about to say. And not knowing made my insides churn.
“I'm glad you care for me, Deacon, because I think I might be pregnant.”
EMELIA
“I love you, Emelia,” he whispered into my ear, nipping at it playfully.
We were curled up on the bed of some random hotel in the middle of nowhere – a dumpy little dive, truth be told – but it was just him and me. And honestly, I was the happiest I'd ever been. Pressed up against his warm, firm body, all I wanted was to be with him.
Deacon Murphy was the man of my dreams, and no matter where we ended up, I knew we'd be happy as long as we were together. I never imagined that things could be this way with him. But I was thankful for it.
“I love you too,” I said, staring up into his deep, blue eyes and feeling my heart skip a beat. “So very much.”
“I still can't believe I met a woman who has the power to turn me to mush the way you do,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose. “And of all the women in this world I could have fallen for, I still can't believe I fell for you – the daughter of my sworn enemy. Who'd have ever thought that?”
“Tell me about it,” I said, laughing. “You weren't exactly at the top of my list either.”
Deacon looked into my eyes and lowered his face, pressing his soft lips to mine. Our kisses grew more urgent and intense as his hands moved up the length of my body, cupping my breasts and drawing a throaty groan from me.
Deacon pulled me to him, pressing his body into mine, and I felt his erection through his boxer shorts. It was still early in the morning, the sun had just come out, but Deacon's cock was already awake and standing at attention. It seemed like the perfect way to start a day to me.
Reaching down, I gripped the erection straining against the fabric of his boxers, stroking it, as I stared into his eyes. I'd never grow tired of that. I gave this man my virginity, I had his child growing inside of me, and if I had my way, he was the only man I'd ever be with.
Deacon removed my nightgown, slipping it over my head and kissing me as he tossed it to the floor on the side of the bed. I gasped when his mouth latched onto my nipple and he sucked on it. He nipped at it, teasing me with the tip of his tongue, as he stared up at me with such need in those pretty eyes of his.
“Yes, yes,” I said, arching my body toward him.
Each time he licked or sucked on my nipple, it was like having an electrical current surge through my body. The feeling of his mouth on my breasts was intense and it drove me absolutely wild. I removed his boxers, tossing them in the general direction he'd thrown my nightgown and slid my hand over the flesh of his stiff cock, gripping it tightly in my hands. Stroking him from base to tip, I smiled, loving listening to the sounds he made as I proceeded to jack him off.
“Suck me,” he begged. “Please. I need to feel your mouth on my cock.”
Having had such little experience giving oral sex to a man, I was a little nervous – but at the same time, I also loved feeling him between my lips. I loved listening to his moans and groans as I licked and sucked on him.
Pushing Deacon down onto his back, I moved down the length of his body, running my tits over his cock. I let his dick sit between them as I rubbed it up and down, licking just the tip of him as I stared into his eyes. His fingertips dug into the flesh of my shoulders and he groaned as I continued to tease him with the tip of my tongue.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he gasped. “Do you know that?”
“I'm just glad you think so,” I said, moving lower and gripping him in my hand.
I took the head of his cock between my lips as I stroked the base, never breaking eye contact with him as I did it. His hand ran along the back of my head as I teased and taunted him with my lips and tongue, taking just a little bit of him into my mouth at a time. Instead of taking him into my mouth completely, like I knew he wanted me to, I licked him up and down and all around the tip, just savoring the experience and the way he looked down at me. Relishing that look of pure desire and need in his eyes.
I watched the need build in his eyes, saw the tension of pure want on his face, and could only smile. I was in control and I had the power. And when he least expected it, I fully engulfed him with my mouth, taking him in as far as I could. Since he was so large, my hand made up the difference – there was no way I could take his entire cock into my mouth at once. I bobbed my head up and down on his shaft, moving slowly at first until his breathing grew ragged and his body grew tense. He moaned with pleasure and called my name softly, which made me even wetter than I already was.
I didn't want to make him cum like that – especially not so soon – so I pulled back, licking the pre-cum from his tip and letting him watch as it stretched from his cock to my tongue.
With his balls in my hand, I went back to licking and kissing the sides of his shaft as I stroked the head of his dick, and Deacon was groaning louder. He was begging me to take him into my throat, to suck him harder. Which I did once more, taking him all in at once, drawing an animalistic grunt from him as I did.
“Stop, stop, stop,” he said, but he arched upward, almost as if his body was begging me not to listen. “I don't want to finish yet.”
As much as I wanted to finish him off with my mouth, my body also had needs of its own that it was crying out to be sated – like having him inside of me.
Sliding up his body and crawling on top of him, I straddled him and placed my opening against his hard shaft, letting just the tip penetrate the lips of my pussy. Our eyes met and was followed by our lips as our kissing intensified, the passion flowing between us. As our tongues danced in my mouth, Deacon thrust his hips upward, driving himself inside of me and taking me by surprise. My eyes grew wide and I gasped as he filled me up completely.
With his hands on my ass cupping and squeezing, he moved me up and down on top of him, his nails digging into my flesh and his cock slamming deep into me. His tongue pushed past my lips as he kissed me while I rode his body, hard, rubbing my clit against him with each downward motion. Never in my life had anything felt as good as this.
He moved his head down, taking my nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking on it while I increased my pace and fucked him harder. Faster. He threw his head back and cried out as I gripped his cock with the muscles in my pussy.
“Jesus, Emelia,” he moaned. “Jesus Christ, yes. Don't stop.”
And I didn't stop. Planting my hands against his hard chest for support, I started thrusting my hips up and down, fucking him harder, taking him deeper. I felt the pressure building up low within me, could feel my orgasm building like a wave out on the ocean. And I knew that it was only a matter of time before that wave came crashing down over me.
Deacon's body twitched and spasmed as I rode him. His muscles tensed and he gritted his teeth. I knew he wasn't going to last much longer either. The sensations were so amazing and so powerful, I wasn't ready for it to end and wanted to keep it going as long as possible.
Deacon groaned and stopped me – though I could see the regret in his eyes. He looked at me and smiled.
“My turn,” he said.
He pulled me down off of him, putting me down on my hands and knees. He got behind me and guided his cock to my opening. With one hard thrust, he buried himself deep inside of me, drawing a gasp from me. With one hand, he grabbed on to my hip a
s he started to pump his cock in and out of my wet pussy. His other hand found my hair, giving it a nice hard pull, forcing my head back.
The blend of the small amount of pain of him pulling my hair blended with the pleasure of him thrusting his cock deep into me drove me insane. I cried out, calling his name, begged him to fuck me harder – a request which he was more than happy to oblige.
The sound of our bodies slapping together echoed around the small room, mixing with our grunts, moans, and cries, creating an amazing symphony. His fingers dug into the flesh of my hip and I knew he was nearing the end of the line. At the same time though, that wave that had been building on the horizon within me came rushing to the shore, breaking with a speed and intensity I didn't expect.
My body spasmed and felt like it was on fire as I came, sensations of pleasure radiating along my every nerve ending. I screamed out Deacon's name as I came harder than I ever thought possible. And that was it for him.
I felt Deacon's body lock up and he pulled back as he moaned. I felt his hot seed shooting all over my back and my ass. It felt like a warm rain splashing down on my skin and I loved the sensation of it.
I fell onto my stomach and Deacon collapsed next to me on his back. Our breathing was ragged and laboured, but we couldn't contain our smiles. He leaned over and kissed me again, this time a little bit softer and gentler.
He pulled away and looked me in the eye. “I love you, Emelia,” he whispered. “I'm so lucky to have you in my life.”
I smiled and felt my tears begin to well with tears. “I love you, Deacon.”
DEACON
Staring down at her, despite everything that had happened, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was one of the luckiest guys on the planet. Sure, I'd lost the Brothers in this whole mess, but given what I knew now, I was probably better off for it. I thought they'd have my back through thick and thin, but come to find out, they'd deceived me. They'd lied to me. They'd tried to kill me.
And one day, I'd have my revenge for that. For now though, I had Emelia. And that was more than enough.
I stroked a strand of her hair from her face as she slept peacefully, curled up beside me. Her chest rose and fell with each deep breath. Living in hotels like this, living on the run – it was no life for her and it was no way to raise a child. I needed to figure something out, find somewhere we could go, somewhere we could stay and be safe. And I needed to figure it all out quick.
But for now, I needed to take care of my sleeping beauty. I needed to make sure that she was okay. That she was safe. And that meant making sure she had food and everything else she could possibly need or want. I wanted to give her everything. Wanted to make sure she knew she was loved and to treat her like the queen she was.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that it had been a little while since we'd last eaten and I remembered the diner attached to the hotel. I figured that I could run down there, pick up some pancakes and orange juice and be back before she woke up for the second time that morning. I could serve her breakfast in bed – which I thought would be the second-best way to start the day.
Not wanting to wake her, I carefully pulled myself out from underneath her. Despite my jostling – even as careful as I tried to be – she thankfully continued to sleep soundly. I grabbed my clothes off the floor and hurried to get dressed, making sure to place a gun next to her on the table – just in case. With those pricks out there, I wasn't going to take any chances.
And, as I'd witnessed that night in the car, my Emmy wasn't like other women out there. She knew how to take care of herself, and that included using a gun. She'd earned my respect and I trusted that she could defend herself, if the chips were down and she needed to. I gently kissed her on the cheek and made sure to grab a gun of my own – again, just in case – before shutting the door and making sure it locked behind me.
The diner – The Golden Pancake House – wasn't likely to have amazing food. I could tell just by looking at the cracked, fading sign, and the cheap dime store decorations. That and the fact that it was attached to a cheap hotel and all, more or less guaranteed the food would be substandard. But it would do. I didn't want to go too far, not without Emelia by my side.
I figured we'd head out once she woke up and then decided what our next destination was going to be. We'd talked about heading south, into Mexico and maybe even down as far as South America. But we didn't have anything set in stone yet. We had no firm plans and everything was on the table.
“Good morning,” the waitress said as soon as I walked into the diner. “Seating for one?”
“Uhh no, I'm taking it to go. My – my girlfriend,” it sounded so strange to say that, and honestly, I wasn't sure if I should even be calling her that, “is still sleeping. I wanted to surprise her with breakfast in bed.”
“Of course,” she said and smiled as she pulled out a menu. “Just let me know what you'd like and we'll get that right up for ya.”
Honestly, I had no idea what Emelia liked. I was still so new to this – and new to her – that I didn't know if she preferred pancakes over waffles or if she was more of a French toast sort of girl. Not to mention that I had zero clue whether she liked bacon or sausage – or neither. Normally, I might not care, but for some reason, with Emelia, I cared. I cared a lot and wanted to make this right. She mattered to me, which meant that even the smallest little detail like bacon or sausage mattered to me. As crazy as that was to think, let alone say.
As I stared down at the menu, the sound of a gunshot ripped through the morning air outside. My head spun around and I stared out the glass windows with my stomach up in my throat. My heart was pounding and adrenaline rushed through me as I stood up from the stood. I couldn't see our room from where I was, which only made me more nervous. I dropped the menu and rushed outside to see what had happened – as did the waitress and several others.
“What's going on?” she asked. “What was that? Was that a gunshot?”
I didn't have the time or inclination to answer. All I knew was that I had to get to Emelia. As I rounded the corner heading toward our room, my heart was racing and the knot in my stomach constricted painfully. I was already fearing the worst.
And I was right to be.
I watched as a black sedan pulled out of the parking lot in a squeal of tires and plumes of smoke as it sped down the road. An animalistic growl escaped my throat as I stepped into our room. The door was wide open – and judging by the shattered wood, it had been kicked open – and as I entered, I saw the signs of a vicious struggle. Tables turned over, lamps knocked to the ground, bedsheets ripped from the beds – she had put up one hell of a fight.
But Emelia was nowhere to be found.
The gun had been used – hence, the shot we'd heard – but apparently it had been too late when she'd fired the shot since the weapon was on the floor beside the bed. I turned and saw that there was a hole in the door – she'd taken a shot but had missed someone who'd been standing there. But she'd tried. Oh God, she'd tried.
Which meant, she'd been taken against her will – as if the destroyed hotel room weren't proof of that enough. Whether it was her father or someone else though, I didn't know. All I knew was that no one had a right to take her like this.
No one.
My eyes narrowed and I felt my gut churning. There was a deep well of rage bubbling up within me. I was going to get Emelia back. And I was going to make somebody pay for taking her in the first place.
As I stood in the wrecked hotel room, feeling like I'd been kicked in the nuts, I made that vow to myself. Somebody was going to bleed for what they'd done. And they were going to bleed badly.
EMELIA
“Who the fuck are you?” I screamed, kicking at the seat. “What the fuck do you want with me?”
My hands were tied, but I could kick and scream all I wanted to. The men wore masks, but their thick, Italian accents sounded familiar. Very familiar. Too familiar, in fact.
“We work for your father,” the driver said.
Yeah, that figures. I wasn't really all that surprised to hear them say that – not after I'd heard their accents the first time. Fucking great.
“So that gives you a right to break into my hotel room and pull me our forcibly?” I yelled. “I didn't want to go with you pricks, in case you missed the ever so subtle warning of me shooting at you.”
“We were rescuing you, princess,” the driver said. “You need to relax.”
The guy in the passenger seat stayed quiet and kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
“Rescue me, huh?” I snapped. “If that's the case, then why am I restrained like a prisoner?”
“For your own safety, Emelia,” he said. “We knew things were going to happen fast, and we weren't sure you'd recognize us. So we had to restrain you for your safety.”
“And yours, I presume?” I narrowed my gaze.
“We didn't know you'd be armed,” he said. “But it made me glad we had to restrain you so there were no – accidents.”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn't want to be rescued?” I asked.
The two men looked at each other and laughed, but didn't bother to say anything to me – which only pissed me off even more. I struggled against my bonds, trying to find a way to wiggle out of them. When that didn't succeed, I did the only thing left open to me – vow to kick both of their asses and repeat myself.
“Hello?” I snapped. “I honestly have no desire to go back to my father. Did either one of you geniuss ever think of that?”
“Stockholm syndrome,” the passenger said.
“Has to be,” replied the driver.
“That took hold pretty fast,” the passenger said. “Faster than I would've thought.”
“No, it's not Stockholm syndrome, you assholes,” I growled. “I don't want to go back. Deacon and I – ”
“Deacon Murphy?” the driver asked as he looked back at me in the rearview mirror. “Where is good ol' Deacon?”
