by Haven Rose
Caden’s voice is gentle as he says, “It’s okay, boy. No one here will hurt you.” I have a feeling those aren’t only for the emotionally scarred dog, though Boomer cocks his head to the side, and, as if he senses the sincerity, slowly walks forward. His gait is uneven, the limp permanent due to a broken leg that wasn’t allowed to heal properly. “What happened to him?”
“From what we’ve been able to piece together, he had a family, but they neglected him, and he spent most of his time outside. He didn’t have shelter, hardly any food, so he went looking for both. Unfortunately, someone saw his breed and size and decided to use him. Mona, that’s my best friend, works for the pound and called me when he was brought in. He wouldn’t let anyone touch him. Growled if they even tried. He refused to eat, barely drank, and they didn’t think he could be saved. She told them about me, asked if I could take him, and they agreed.”
“How long have you had him?”
“A week,” I say, thinking back to those rough first days with Boomer. I stayed awake all night talking to him. I wasn’t sleeping anyway so I took advantage of that fact. Besides, Boomer needed to know he wasn’t alone…and I think I needed it too. “It took two days before he’d let me near him. I didn’t want to overwhelm his stomach with food, so I gave him treats instead, working up to more and more as I thought he could handle it. Now, he’ll eat from my hand, as gentle as can be, and let me pet his head, but only once, before he runs away.”
“Where does he sleep? Dogs prefer enclosed spaces at times because it makes them feel secure, right? I think I read that once.”
“Correct, as long as they never feel cornered while in them. I set one up in the spare room, but I made sure there were a few exits for him to use. I wanted him to know…”
“…that he isn’t trapped,” he finishes for me. Knowing Caden gets it, the shelter and my love for animals being such a huge part of me, I’m even more sure of taking the next step with him. Hell, I’m taking an Evel Knievel like leap.
“I’m sorry, Caden,” I say from the heart, needing him to know I’d gladly take it back if I could. My lack of faith in him, in myself for choosing him to give my heart to, stole priceless moments from us. He wasn’t there when I suspected I was pregnant, we didn’t get to sit together and wait for the test results, or celebrate when it showed we were expecting, and he missed the first appointment confirming it.
When I tell him all that, he kisses the tears from each cheek, and says, “Baby, you had to protect you, and I can never be mad at you for that.”
Nodding, taking his words as truth, I say the last part I need to apologize for, “I wasn’t truthful about my shelter, I let you believe it was still a dream. I was gonna tell you that morning, wanted to share it all with you, but then…well, you know,” I admit with a shrug.
“So, tell me now,” he replies gently. And I do. I tell him about being adopted, what it was like growing up with two moms, how they ensured I knew I was special, that they’d chosen me, but the kids in school thought I was a freak because my family didn’t match theirs.
“They called me Looney Rooney,” I confess, the hurt still lingering after all these years. Perhaps I should’ve outgrown it by now, but it shaped my life in ways others may never understand. And Caden’s next words show how well he already knows me, that he can see into the heart of me.
“You showed them though, didn’t you, baby? You used those experiences to make life better for those that can’t fight for themselves. You’re comfortable in your skin and with who you are, of your moms and the love they gave you. Some people search for that kind of peace their entire lives and go decades before finding it, others never do.” I soak in his words, looking at what I went through from the outside, seeing it in a new light.
Not knowing how to thank him for showing me that, I place my hands on his chest, and lean forward so he’s taking my weight, proving I know he’s got me. I hear his sharp intake of breath, proof he’s just as effected as I am being this close.
“I’m going to let you fuck me now,” I tell him, and I’m instantly cradled in his arms as his mouth takes mine in a soul-searing kiss.
“Oh, my beautiful rainbow, we’re going to make love first. I will show you with words, actions, and my body you are everything to me. Not even in my dreams could I have imagined someone such as you.”
“You’re a sweet talker,” I tell him, blushing.
“Where you’re concerned, I’m a truth talker, Rooney, and always will be. Which way to your room?” As he carries me in that direction, I think back to what he said
“What did you mean by first?” I remind him he said first, which implies there’s a second.
“Then I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll pass out. Now,” he says, standing me on my feet beside my bed, “show me what’s mine.” The last is said with a sexy smirk as his eyes roam up and down my body, his gaze lingering on my belly. “The baby is safe, right?” When I nod, his gaze heats and I swear I can feel the flame of it licking against my skin as I bare it for his possession. When he steps forward, goosebumps race over my arms despite the fact I feel as if I’m on fire, burning up with the need I have for him.
His left hand rises as his fingertips start at my right, the tip of my middle finger, then trace upward toward my shoulder, circling the back of my neck and gliding down to my left, this time ending on my ring finger. Following his movement, my breath catches as his thumb rubs over the ring he’d placed there earlier that proclaims me as his. It’s then that I really look at it, my focus before had been solely on Caden, on discovering he was mine and mine alone, that no one else held his heart.
“It’s a rainbow,” I whisper, in awe he found one to match his endearment for me.
“Because that’s what you are, Rooney. You’re the promise of a new day after a life full of nothing but gray. You remind people to stop and see the beauty, even when it seems bleak. You’re a bridge between reality and a fairy tale, helping people see the balance between the two, to embrace it.”
“And what waits for us at the end of this rainbow you say I bring you?” I ask, so incredibly moved by how he sees me.
“A pot of gold, of course, because the life we’re going to have is priceless.” Then he lays me on the bed, and with a kiss to my forehead, works his way down my body. Caden takes his time, exploring every inch, relearning it after the changes pregnancy has started to make. “You were beautiful before, but now, knowing you’re cradling our child, I don’t have the words.”
“Then show me,” I tell him, my voice growing husky with arousal.
**Caden**
“Oh baby, you don’t know what you just started,” I reply with a smirk. My woman has no idea how often I’ve dreamt of having her in my arms again. I’ve been starved for her touch, each day growing darker without her to bring color into it. I know most would think this was too farfetched, feeling this way about a woman I knew for twelve hours, but that is the beauty of her, of us. We didn’t need all the time others do to know we were it. It was instant. “This,” I say, gently placing my lips on her belly, “is where my baby is growing. The life we created because fate knew what it was doing. It knew I needed to be there to meet you.” And it’s true, I don’t frequent bars, preferring to drink alone in my suite instead. But I had to be at that particular one that night, and even with the pain of missing her these past two months, I don’t regret going, just the time we lost. I kiss her left nipple before sucking it into my mouth and repeating the same with the right. “These will feed my son or daughter,” I whisper in awe.
“Caden” she says just as quietly.
“Yes, my sweet?” Rooney doesn’t speak, but I feel her legs moving, as if seeking contact. I slide my finger in, her pussy dripping with excitement. I’m about come myself at how good it feels to be inside her again, even in this way. Twisting my hand, thankful for my long fingers, my middle rubs against her sweet spot and my pinkie grazes her clit as my thumb gently sweeps across her rear entrance, testing her
response to a touch there. When she draws in a deep breath, her breasts surging with the movement, I tear my eyes from the paradise of her body and stare into hers, feeling my cock twitch at the pleasure I find in them.
Our time together that night was everything, and yet, somehow, this is more. Maybe it’s because I feared I’d never see her again. No, I instantly, discard that thought because there’s no way I would’ve ever stopped looking for her. “You’re mine, Rooney. No more running,” I tell her.
“But you said,” she protests.
“I understand why you left, but you and I also know there was more to it. You were scared at how much you were feeling for me and saw an out.”
“It’s because of it I didn’t stay to ask. But not in the way you think. I was terrified I’d learn my fear was truth and I’d lose you right after finding you, that you were never mine to begin with.”
Before sealing my lips to hers, I tell her in all honesty, “I was born yours.” Our mouths fuse together, and we use that connection to say everything we can’t put into words, our feelings so strong none have been created to express them. When she nips my bottom lip then soothes it with her tongue I growl, my control slipping.
We duel, both trying to dominate the kiss, each knowing I’ll come out on top. Needing to show her who’s in charge in the bedroom, I guide myself to her center, swearing I can hear it calling me home, and thrust inside without warning. I swallow her gasp and plunge deeper when I feel her nails dig into my skin. Needing to leave my own stamp of ownership on her, I pull my mouth from hers and begin kissing her neck.
“You make it hard to go slow, baby. I’m not ready for this to be over.”
“I make you hard period,” she says with a grin as she clenches around me.
That’s an undeniable fact and I tell her so before pulling out, loving her little pout, as I make my way down her body. “I need your taste on my tongue, Rooney,” I confess before swiping it across her hip bone and continuing to my destination, leaving a path in my wake. “Do you want me to eat you? Devour you like it’s the last meal I’ll ever have?” I hear her hiss in pleasure as I blow gently on her clit, loving when it seems to dance from my actions. “Did you think of me when you made yourself come while we were apart? How I make you feel, knowing no one else will ever love you as much as I do?” When she nods, I ask another, already knowing the answer but the possessive beast inside me that only she has ever awakened needs the words. “Anyone else touch what’s mine?”
“There’s been no one since you,” she instantly replies, her eyes meeting mine as I look up from her between her legs. “I could never want another.” The sincerity in her voice soothes the beast. And then she shows her own possessive side and asks me the same question.
“No one else but you exists in my world. My eyes see but one woman,” I say, needing her to know my loyalty is never something she will have to doubt. She owns me.
The smile that graces her face is so big I can’t help but return it, then her scent hits me and I return my focus to the deliciousness that awaits me. With the first dip, I moan as her juices coat me. It’s spicy yet sweet, exotic but down to earth. My woman is a balanced contradiction, an angel dipped in sin covered in rainbow sprinkles. I lick so thoroughly there’s no inch that doesn’t know me, a few even feel the sting of my bite, her whimpers egging me on, urging me to let her feel my teeth. It’s never enough to break the skin, my primal instinct refusing to cause her an ounce of pain even if it only brings her pleasure, but it sends her soaring each time I do it.
“Caden,” she pleads as I drive her to another climax, sucking on her clit as my fingers probe the silkiest part of her, her happiness evident in the wetness surrounding each digit. “Kiss me.”
I do, just not where she intended, as I try my damnedest to become a part of her, my eyes watching her face, wanting to see her reaction as I slip into her hole. She comes with a scream of my name and I drink everything she gives me, refusing to waste a drop. Her body is covered with a light sheen of sweat, a testament to what I’ve done to her, and that just the beginning.
“Get on your knees, woman. I’m nowhere near done with you. I’ve been dreaming of this reunion for eight damn weeks. You aren’t leaving this bed until I’ve fulfilled them at least once.”
Once she does as I command, I place my arms between her thighs so they hang over top and my hands are right where I need them, holding her open for me as I start to wring so many orgasms from her she eventually begs me to stop, my ministrations making her so sensitive she can’t take another. With her ass still in the air, I give her left cheek a smack, the sound echoing around the room as does her resulting moan.
“Again,” she says to which I tap the other and remind her I’m in charge. “I got my way though, didn’t I?” She reminds me as she shakes her ass, causing me to chuckle.
“Sweetheart, we both win on this one,” I tell her before continuing until her skin is hot to the touch, my handprint showing on each side. Needing to make sure she enjoyed it as much as she claimed to, I straighten on my knees and place my dick against her folds, instantly able to feel she loved it as much as I did. I glide in, feeling complete, and give a few hard thrusts, shaking the bed from the force, before pulling out and laying her on her back once more.
“You keep stopping,” she says, close to a whine, on fire to reach that final crest and topple over.
“I need to see your eyes, to look into them when we come together this time.”
My body covers hers, but I don’t give her my full weight, my elbows keeping that heaviness from her to ensure the baby is safe. “You won’t hurt either of us,” she says, reading my mind.
I gently give her all of me, my hands now smoothing the hair from her face. “Put me in, baby.” I haven’t let her touch me yet, knowing it would shatter any control I had, but I need it now, need her fingers on me as another sign I’m not dreaming, that I won’t wake up and find myself alone.
My cock bucks at her gentle caress, just a fingertip gliding across the top, scooping my pre-cum mixed with her climax, then raises it to her mouth as she sucks it clean. Fuck me, my dirty girl. With a pop she pulls it out and uses the same hand to connect as us one.
“This is where it belongs, Rooney,” I tell her as I pull out, leaving only the crown in, before filling her once more. I continue at this pace, not letting her urge me into a faster one. We’re savoring this. The next time can be a hard fuck, just as I told her it would be.
I feel her tighten around me, and when she pulses, her walls pulling me in even further and trapping me there, my love for her literally pours out of me, her name on my lips.
Chapter Three
Rooney
June 14th…
Caden kept his vow of fucking me hard and not only did I pass out, I fell into an exhausted stupor and slept for three hours. I wake this morning with my head tucked under his chin, his gentle breaths stirring my hair, one arm wrapped around me, as if ensuring I can’t get away.
Tilting so I can see his face, I realize he’s wide awake. “Have you been up this whole time?” He shrugs, which means yes, but apparently it isn’t a big deal to him. “I couldn’t keep my eyes open after that last round,” I admit, laughing when a smug smile crosses his face. “How are you even coherent after what we did?” I ask, for some reason needing to know. It sounds crazy, I’m fully aware of that, but my intuition is telling me there’s more than he’s saying. I wait him out, figuring this is a good test of my patience prior to having the baby, and when he nods, I’m not triumphant about my victory, but the fact he’s going to share another piece of himself with me.
“The last time,” he says, staring in my eyes, letting me see his vulnerability, “I fell asleep with you in my arms, I woke up and you were gone. I lost you for two months.”
Stretching to place a kiss on his lips, a promise to both of us, I say, “From this day forward until our last, I will never do that to you again. I will ask you if something is bothering me. M
y love is yours and I trust you completely with it.” Then I press my mouth to his chest, his heartbeat loud and clear under my ear, adding, “I’m sorry, Caden. If I could go back in time, I never would’ve left that day.” His grip on me tightens almost imperceptibly and I realize it’ll take time, something he and I will have plenty of and I’ll prove it by remaining by his side.
A few minutes pass, my finger lightly tracing circles on his skin, and it’s then, as I mentally count his abs, I realize the word absolutely was created for men like him and I’m so thankful he hides it underneath his suit. I love knowing that others - okay, okay, women – have no clue the beauty his clothes cover. Bit by bit, I feel his hold loosen, as if my touch is calming him. “So, where’s this house you want me to move into?” I ask.
“First, you are moving in. Second, I currently live at the hotel,” he says, almost sheepishly and I love that he shows me sides of him I doubt anyone else sees.
“Wait, the room you took me to wasn’t temporary? Who lives in a hotel?”
“I do. When your family owns a chain of them and you’ve been running one for a couple years, it makes sense to take over the penthouse and be on hand for anything that comes up.”
“Wow,” I whisper, not knowing how to take that information. Caden had told me his last name that night, and I’d shared mine, but I’d never connected him to those Howells. To me, he’s just Caden, the man I fell for.
“How would living in a hotel impact Boomer?” He asks, showing once again how big his heart is, thinking first of what’s best for a dog he just met rather than what he wants.
“To be honest, at this point in his healing, a change like that, and in such a busy place without quick access to the outside, could set him back. He’s been making great progress since coming here, but still has a long way to go.”
