Raw, стр. 36

Thwack!

My mouth forms an O in a silent scream. Our eyes meet, neither of us giving anything away. His hand runs over the sore, hot flesh before trailing low, lower to touch the puckered flesh. I tense. His fingers linger there a moment before he uses a fingertip to test the state of my arousal.

My cheeks heat. The ones on my face.

Normal people don’t get off on stuff like this.

Twitch runs his fingertip up and down my wet and warm flesh. His eyes flash a moment, then darken, and he shuts them on a groan, “You need to sit on my cock.”

Rolling us both to the side, he sets me down a moment before frantically undoing his belt and removing his slacks, shirt, and suspenders in record time. Standing in front of me, he strokes his thick, long cock; the silver balls twinkle in the subdued light. Lying next to me, he continues to stroke his cock. Turning, he mutters, “Ride me.”

He doesn’t need to ask me a second time. Climbing on all fours, I put one leg over and mount him. We’re both ready. There’s no need to waste time. Reaching behind me, I hold his cock up, line him up with my entrance and slowly sit, allowing the head of him into me.

Giving myself a moment to adjust, I place both hands on his chest, looking down at him as he grips my hips. He watches me through lust-hooded eyes. And suddenly, an unexpected wave of emotion passes through me. Reaching up, I stroke the inked thirteen on the apple of his cheek. I feel scarred flesh under the tattoo.

You wouldn’t guess that thirteen is hiding a scar just from looking.

Shaking my head and closing my eyes, I pull my hand away. A tight grip on my wrist stops me, bringing my hand back to his cheek. He leans into my touch, almost like a cat. Turning his head, he kisses the inside of my wrist. And my throat clogs.

Do not fall in love with him!

Yeah. That would be all sorts of fucked up.

Needing the distraction from this heavy moment, I seat myself further down onto him, further still, until my ass meets his crotch. Feeling full and hot, my eyes flutter. He feels amazing.

Looking up at him, his brow furrows in what looks to be confusion.

Reaching up, he joins my hands with his, linking our fingers, and rests the backs of his hands on the bed by his head.

This is becoming too much. My throat thickens to the point where I can’t swallow.

He’s giving me control.

A hoarse whisper escapes me, “Don’t play games with me.”

Rather than answering me, he leans his face up and my chest aches. Leaning down, my lips connect with his in a sweet and gentle kiss. Against my lips, he mumbles, “Perfect.”

Shit. This is intense.

Deepening our kiss, I begin a rocking motion and swallow his deep groan. Slow and steady, up and down, he allows me complete control over what’s happening here. We rock together, kissing, touching, connecting in a way I never thought possible with a man like him. Pulling back slightly, I kiss his lips softly. Pressing whispers of kisses all over his face. His cheeks, his eyes, his nose, then finally back to his soft full lips, all the while grinding deeply onto him.

Lifting myself to a sitting position, I gasp as I find the spot. You know? That spot.

His eyes trained on me, he watches me come closer and closer to my release. I tighten around him and I’m there. My spine tingles; closing my eyes, white spots flash before me as I moan. Suddenly, my eyes snap open and I look down at him, holding back my release. His mouth parted, he nods, giving me what I need.

Permission.

My heart races. Tilting my head back, I moan long and low as the first contraction grips him tightly. Letting go of me, his hands span my hips. He holds me firmly, thrusting up into me. My core clenches around him and ecstasy flows through me.

The very last of my contractions subsides. I feel his cock swell inside of me. Pulling my hips down hard, my eyes meet his as he silently goes through his release, stomach clenching, never taking his soft brown eyes off mine.

Panting fills my room. Neither one of us makes an effort to disconnect. The thought of not having him inside of me right now makes my stomach dip in anxiety. As if he senses this, he rolls us over so I lie on my back. Never leaving my body, he rests his forehead in the crook of my neck, kissing my collarbone, and my body relaxes completely.

Wrapping my arms around him, I grip the back of his neck with one hand, the other stroking his hair. My arms wrap around Twitch, and his unconsciously squeeze me tightly.

I could do this forever.

That was my last thought before I fell asleep.

Making my way into work, I feel the eyes of people beaming at me like lasers, clearly confused at the obvious spring in my step.

“Good morning everyone,” I greet with a sly smile on my face. I’m pretty darn sure the thought on my co-workers minds is, “Well, shit. Somebody got the business.”

And I did get the business.

Twitch is very good at giving me the business. But last night, it was more.

He gave me control of something he’s not used to passing the reins on. And what’s more is he didn’t sweat it. He didn’t get angry or frustrated. He showed me in his own subtle way that he trusts me. Which is a bucket load of awesome.

And it was amazing. It was also extremely emotional. Like watching a baby turtle hatch and make its way to the ocean on its own. It was slow. We took our time. But it was totally worth it.

If I had the energy to, I would’ve clapped and cheered at the end of it.

You can’t rush the progression of a person. It has to be done in their own time. You can push a person to change, but the only time the change will stick is when it’s something they want to achieve on their own.

When I woke this morning alone, it took me a while to get my suddenly-miserable ass out of bed. I made my way into the kitchen and saw a folded piece of paper taped onto the refrigerator door. Narrowing my eyes at the piece of paper, I looked left then right, making sure I wasn’t being watched, then plucked the paper from the door and opened it.

And what I saw lifted my mood from a Class A glum chum to a Class B rainbow fairy.

And rainbow fairies are pretty damn happy.

Well, if they’re not, they should be. They make rainbows for chrissakes!

Reading the note a second time, I leaned my hip on the kitchen counter and sighed.

Dinner. 6pm. Staying with me tonight. I’ll send a car. Dress nice.

Chuckling, I looked down at the command I’m given almost every time we’re together.

Dress nice.

I desperately needed to go shopping. Which is why I text Nikki, asking her to meet me for lunch.

Walking into my office, I stop in my track when I see Michael sitting behind my desk. Glaring at him, my fists ball by my sides and I grit my teeth. “You’d better have a good reason for skipping school, Mickey.”

He grins, “Pupil free-day.”

My steam evaporates and I stroll all the way into my office, “Well, that’s a pretty good reason, I’d say.” Winking at him, I walk all the way over to him and sigh. Twitch told me he’d been roughed up. He also told me he dealt with it. When I asked what had happened, he threw seriousness in my face and said in dead calm, “Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

That obviously made me feel about as relaxed as a person with a boil on their eye.

Taking Michael’s face in my hands, I look down at him with sad eyes. “Let me look at you, sweetie.”

His nose swollen and crooked, his lip cut at the left side, and his eye black but the swelling seeming to have gone, I decide to play it cool and not show just how much I’m freaking out over the fact that one of my kids was beaten. And beaten good.