Throttle

by Sassie Lewis

  “Sin, I think it takes a lot more than just knowing someone to have a baby with them.”

  “Why?”

  “God, you are such a Neanderthal at times. Are you serious?”

  “About the possibility that you could have my baby in there?” Moving across the bench seat, I ran my hands over her stomach. “Yeah, I am. Look, you might not be pregnant anyway, so let’s just let fate decide.”

  I didn’t know when I’d started believing in fate, but the words had come out before I’d even thought about them.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sin. I mean, I can barely afford to support myself sometimes, so how the heck would I support this fictional baby?”

  “You wouldn’t. We would.”

  “But again, we hardly know each other.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Georgia. I don’t do this shit. I don’t ask women for anything; I’ve never had to. Hell, I’ve never even wanted to, until now.” Why the hell does she have tears in her eyes? “Why the hell are you crying?”

  Kneeling on the chair, she moved closer to me, putting her forehead against mine. She didn’t move further, just stared into my eyes.

  “What are you doing?” My voice softened. The sound was foreign to me; I’d never heard it in my own voice before.

  When she kissed me, I tasted the salt of her tears. She pulled back before I could deepen the kiss, but she didn’t go far; my hands held her hips as she put our foreheads back together.

  “You know, half of what you say makes no sense to me?”

  “I thought saying I wanted to wait—”

  “Shh. You come off all badass and I don’t give a crap, but under all that you’re a softy.”

  “Huh?” I didn’t think there was much soft about me.

  “Why don’t you want me to take the pill?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t want you to.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Sin. In the short time I’ve known you, I’ve already picked up certain things. So why?”

  She wasn’t going to like my answer, but with those pools of honey studying my every move, I provided it anyway.

  “Because you’re mine and I’m keeping you.”

  “You do know a person can’t belong to someone else, right?”

  “I don’t care; you’re mine.”

  When she went to say more, I lifted her onto my lap, working my tongue between her lips as I rocked her over my rising cock. Georgia’s short nails dug into my shoulders as she moaned in time with the movements. If we weren’t sitting beside a park full of kids, I would’ve had her naked in a minute.

  “We need to get somewhere more private.” The words were spoken into her mouth, our breath mingling.

  She looked around like she’d forgotten where we were. Almost diving from my lap when recognition registered, the arms I held loosely around her banded tighter, holding her in place.

  “Don’t take them.”

  She didn’t answer. Her head rested against my chest and her little fingers traced a pattern over my shirt. It took me a minute to work out she was tracing letters; it was right over where my No Surrender. No Regrets tattoo was.

  “Okay.” It was said so softly, I almost missed it.

  “Okay, as in ‘you won’t take them’ okay?”

  “I might be making the biggest mistake of my life, but no, I won’t take them.”

  There was something caught in my throat, and I had to clear it a few times before I could get the words out. “Thank you.”

  We sat there watching the families play. I had images of a little girl who looked just like Georgia, her hair flying behind her as I pushed her on the swings. The growling of my stomach interrupted the moment, and Georgia giggled at the sound.

  “Come on, let’s go feed you.”

  Picking up a pizza, we headed back to Georgia’s. She surprised me by not making a fuss at my demand she pack a bag, because she’d be staying at my place for a while. She’d simply kissed me, called me a Neanderthal and had gone off to do as I said. While she was gone, I made sure all her windows were locked, there was nothing in the fridge which would spoil and took the trash out.

  She might not have realized it, but I wasn’t letting her go back there. I was keeping her in my bed for as long as possible. Forever suited the Neanderthal just fine.

  Later that afternoon, Georgia had been in the shower when there was a knock at the door.

  “Hey, Mom. What brings you around?” Leaning down, I kissed both her cheeks.

  “I made lasagna and as you know, I always make too much. Your father said you might not be eating right, now Tyson’s moved out.”

  I scoffed at that; just because I didn’t cook didn’t mean I couldn’t. And my mother knew that.

  “Funny. When was the last time Dad touched a pot or pan? Hell, does he even know what they are?”

  “Hush now. Why in Heaven’s name would I want that man messing up my nice, clean kitchen?”

  Dad was actually a good cook but a hell of a messy one. He’d once told me it was born into all Italians. Funny seeing how Mom was one-hundred percent American, but then again, she did come from the South and they loved their food just as much as the Italians did.

  Following Mom into the kitchen, I watched as she plated up three helpings.

  “How’d you know we needed an extra plate?”

  “I’m not hard of hearing yet, Cynfor. I heard the shower running and if the young lady standing in the doorway would like to come in and join us, we can sit and eat.”

  How the friggin’ hell the woman did that, I’d never know. Was it something all mothers were able to do? Did they all have that built-in ability to see out the back of their heads? I hadn’t even heard Georgia come down the hall.

  “Hello again, dear. Not who I was expecting, but a pleasure even more so.”

  Georgia looked lost, her eyes as big as the plates Mom had just put the lasagna on. She looked sexy wearing one of my shirts again, her long blonde hair still wet and hanging down her back.

  “Hello, ma’am…sorry, Gayle.”

  Mom walked over to Georgia, obviously seeing the discomfort in her face, and pulled her close as she kissed both of her cheeks.

  “Come and eat, dear.”

  “Thank you…I might just go and grab some clothes first.”

  “Nonsense, what you’ve got on is fine. You look comfortable.”

  When Mom turned around, she gave me a pointed look before leading Georgia over to the table she insisted on using whenever we ate together. The look was I will talk to you about this later. It was amazing that with my past and being thirty-eight, it didn’t stop Mom from giving me that look. I gave a slight nod, letting her know I understood.

  “So, how have you been, Georgia?”

  “Fine, thank you. Busy with my art. I have two buyers coming to look at some of my pieces tomorrow. Fingers crossed they like something.”

  “How exciting. I would love to see your work.”

  Fuck! I hadn’t even asked her that. Running my hand up her leg, Georgia jumped when my fingers skimmed the inside of her bare thigh.

  “So would I, darlin’.”

  “Huh?” Her cheeks flushed red.

  “See your work. I didn’t see a place for you to do that at your house.”

  “Oh, I rent a space in the factory district, but I’ll have to look for a new place soon. The owners sold the land and the new ones are tearing down the building.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Sorry. I don’t what?”

  “Need to find a new place. We’ll set you up a space at the shop.”

  “Umm, Sin, I don’t think—”

  “Georgia, we’ve already talked about this. It’s done.”

  My mother took that moment to butt in. “Cynfor, why don’t you get a bottle of wine to go with dinner. I’m driving, but one glass won’t hurt.”

  “Cynfor?” Georgia smirked.

  Fucking hell. The twinkle in her eyes told me she was going to be
calling me Cynfor from then on.

  “Don’t. It’s Sin, okay? Only Mom and Millie call me Cynfor.”

  “But I like it.” She had a cheeky smile on her face and my suspicions were confirmed. I would have yet another person who would be calling me by my full name.

  “Does it have a meaning, Gayle? It’s not a name I’ve heard before.”

  “Oh, yes, and I think it’s very fitting. Cynfor is an old Welsh name meaning great chief.”

  Georgia smiled at me again. “Yes, he is very bossy, so I think you did well in choosing his name.” I swear the girl was asking for a spanking. When I’d made a grunting sound at her statement, she just giggled back.

  Leaving the room, I headed to the cellar to get the bottle of wine Mom wanted. I could hear her talking to Georgia, but I wasn’t worried; Mom never said a bad word about anyone. She’d met Max when he was still in the club, and not once did she treat him any differently than she would one of Dad’s business partners.

  Dinner was spent with Mom telling Georgia stories about me growing up.

  “Can I ask why you never had more children after Cynfor?”

  Yep, she’d said my full name as many times as she could throughout the meal.

  “You can ask me anything, dear. I had problems falling pregnant; I was thirty-six before I even fell with Cynfor. I felt blessed to just have him. It wasn’t from lack of trying, but he was all the good Lord saw fit to give us.”

  I didn’t think Georgia even realized what she was doing when her hand slipped from the table to rest against her own stomach. I loved that she was thinking about the fact my baby could be growing inside her. Taking her other hand, I linked our fingers together on top of the table. Mom’s eyebrows rose as she looked at our joined hands.

  “I would have loved a house full of kids or grandkids, but after Tyson, I didn’t think there would be anymore. But you never know.”

  Before either Georgia or I could say anything, Mom started to clear the table.

  “No, Gayle, you shouldn’t do that. You brought a lovely dinner over. Please, let me.”

  Georgia took the plates from Mom’s hands and headed toward the kitchen. As soon as she was through the door, Mom spun around to face me. I’d never seen the look on her face directed at anyone before, and the words out of her mouth shocked the shit out of me.

  “I love you with my every breath, Cynfor, and always will. Please, don’t fuck this up.”

  This was clearly what was happening between Georgia and me; her arm had flicked between where I was sitting to where the kitchen was. Opening and closing my mouth a few times, I didn’t know what to say. I’d never heard my mother curse before.

  “Close your mouth, sweetie. I might not say it often, but I knew you needed something to make you pay attention.”

  “Okay, that worked.” I couldn’t help but smile at her.

  “She’s young, Cynfor. Don’t hurt her.”

  Before I could reply to defend my intentions, Georgia walked back into the room. When she walked closer to the table, I pulled her onto my lap and her hands quickly adjusted the shirt she was wearing, trying to pull it over her knees. I placed a small kiss at the side of her neck. I knew Mom was watching, and it was my way of telling her I was keeping Georgia. She made a small nodding motion at me, then smiled.

  “All right then, I’m off. If you’re not doing anything on Thursday, why don’t you both come for dinner?”

  “We’ll be there, Mom.”

  Standing near the back door, I finished off my smoke and watched Georgia wipe down the kitchen bench. The shirt rode up as she bent to pick something up from the floor, and the Neanderthal roared inside my head as her creamy ass cheeks came into view and my brand flashed at the top of them. The silver script against the thin, black material caressed over her hips like a flashing neon sign. That sign was a green light, telling my brain to take her where she stood.

  Whipping the shirt over my head, I stalked up behind her. I may’ve been only her second lover, but she knew how to play. Instead of standing up at the sound of my approach, she turned her head and looked at me through the curtain of her hair, her teeth digging into her lip.

  “God, you’re beautiful.” My hand landed against her ass cheek with an audible slap, but she didn’t pull away. Pushing the shirt further up, she raised her arms a little until the fabric fell to the floor, pooling at her bare feet.

  Taking her hands, I placed them against the edge of the counter-top. “Hold onto the bench, Georgia,” She was short enough that the position gave her back a perfect ninety-degree angle.

  Starting at her ear, I licked a path to the freckles I’d found that morning. Pulling the skin into my mouth, I gave it a hard suck; her whole body shivered and a little moan left her mouth. When she went to move her hands from the bench, I slapped her ass again.

  “I said leave them there.”

  Looking down, I could see the bruise already forming on her shoulder. Working my way down I licked every part of her back, adding little nips here and there. She was arching her back like a cat in heat.

  Moving down to her knees, I rolled the G-string down and let my tongue explore the crevice between her cheeks. She squealed and tried to pull away as I ran a wet trail over the dark rosette. Holding her in place, I continued until she pushed back into me. The soft skin which ran from below her bottom and joined to her thigh felt like Heaven under my tongue. At first, she giggled but I increased the pressure, and before long she was moaning again.

  The sweet smell of her cunt was calling me like a siren to a sailor. Turning around, I sat on the hard, kitchen floor and moved between her spread legs. Her soft, panting breaths were running over the top of my head but I couldn’t lift it to look at her when I had something so enticing at eye level.

  Her blonde curls were covered in glistening dew. Leaning back against the cabinet, I ran my hand over her soft legs past her warmth, only to fill them with the supple skin of her ass, using my hold to pull her closer.

  Her smell was intoxicating, a combination of apples and musk. I buried my nose into her pussy, needing to take in her scent and commit it to memory. The Neanderthal wanted to roll around in that smell and tell all others she was his.

  With the first swipe of my tongue, her knees buckled. Sliding down flat against the tiled floor, my overheated skin spasmed at the sudden change in temperature. Georgia looked down at me, her hands still clutching the bench.

  “Get on your knees.” Finding both our shirts, I pulled them closer, covering the tiled floor on either side of my head and adding some protection for her to rest against.

  Her hand lifted from the bench.

  “No. Leave your hands there.”

  As she lowered herself, I let my rough hands tease up the back of her thighs, directing her pussy over my face. Georgia’s knees thudded against the floor as I licked the opening of her cunt. Her long hair brushed over my stomach as I found her clit and scraped it with my teeth. Letting go of her hips, my mouth continued working as I used my hands to release the binding material covering my cock.

  I could feel pre-cum dripping onto my own skin as my dick sprang loose from its confinement. Holding her hips once again, I rocked her forward, delving my tongue into the source of that delicious smell.

  Her muscles fluttered around my seeking muscle. Coating my fingers in the cream running down her legs, I slowly caressed her rosette. Georgia hesitated in her movement until I pulled her clit back into my mouth and gave it a sharp tug.

  Using my other hand, I encouraged her to rock faster, waiting for signs she was getting closer. Her juices were running freely over my face and down my throat. Even with the fact it had been years since I’d gone down on a woman, I knew I’d never had one this wet for me. And I fucking loved it. Loved that it was me who could get her like this.

  As her moans grew louder and her breathing hitched, I pushed one finger past the first barrier of muscles. Her movement stopped, but her body gave away her enjoyment of the action. Th
e tight ring of muscles clenched and released around my finger and her whole body shuddered.

  Doubling my efforts on her pussy, I suckled her glistening lips before inserting my tongue as far as I could, my nose brushing firmly against her engorged clit. Georgia’s moans got loader as I slid my finger in and out of her clenching ass.

  When I thought she was ready, I added a second. I was going take her there, drill my cock deep into her forbidden passage, a place I was sure no man had been before. The Neanderthal yelled in my head he was going to have every fucking part of her.

  Turning my hand, I rubbed against her inner walls at the same time I bit down on her clit.

  Her orgasm was like a tidal wave going over both of us, drowning us in her pleasure. As her cum covered my face, I had to grab my cock and squeeze it, stopping my own climax from happening.

  Pulling my fingers from her snug ass, I supported her hips when she slid down my chest, her wet pussy leaving a trail over my pecs and stomach. I was surprised when she didn’t hesitate in kissing me. Her normally honeyed orbs had deepened in color to a chocolate brown, and her beautiful eyes looked directly into mine as she drank her own juices from my lips.

  Holding her head in place, I ignored the throbbing of my cock and enjoyed just kissing her. When her wet pussy brushed against my dick, I lost it. Within seconds, I had my pants down past my hips and lifted Georgia enough to slam her down, impaling her with my shaft as far as it would go.

  Pushing herself up, she put her hands on my chest and looked down at me.

  “Condom.”

  Like fuck. The feel of her warmth without a latex barrier was something I wasn’t giving up. Holding her to me, I flipped us over before she could lift herself off. She made a small oomph at the sudden movement then moaned as I swiveled my hips.

  “Cynfor, stop. We need a condom.” The sentence was a mess of panted moans as my hips kept up their slow, deep movements.

  “No.” She blinked at me. The words had been growled at her.

  “Cynfor, what are you—”

  “I said no. You’re mine.” The Neanderthal had taken over, or it could have just been me. I didn’t care which; I wasn’t stopping and I wasn’t putting a fucking condom on.