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All In: The Blackstone Affair: Chapter 8


Picking her up from work was something I looked forward to, and today was no exception. Everything was good until that text came through on her mobile. Now I was just plain old desperate to get her in my sights.

I pulled into the Rothvale lot, parked and watched the doors where she would exit the building; my conversation with my cousin still niggled at me since we’d spoken and honestly had infected my imagination with all kinds of madness. Marriage . . . seriously?! How about an exclusive, committed relationship for starters?

The idea of marrying anyone had never been on my life list. I just didn’t see such a future in my cards and never had. The institution itself held my utmost respect, but in all likelihood a person with my lifestyle and baggage would be most certainly an epic fail as a husband. There was so much shit in my closet, going so far back, that I could hardly separate to a time when I might have turned out normal.

My sister was married, and very happily too, with three beautiful children. Hannah and Freddy were a standard to aspire to, I suppose—I’d just never thought to. My sister had done the domestic route and blessed our dad with grandchildren, and basically gotten me off the hook from having to compete. I mean, Hannah did it so well there was no need for me to feel the pressure.

I decided to call her while I waited for Brynne to come out. I grinned when she picked up on the second ring.

“How’s my little brother?”

“Losing his mind with work,” I told her.

“That’s not the only thing you’re losing your mind over, or so I’ve heard.” Hannah could be very smug and annoyingly so when she felt like it.

“So Dad got to you and blabbed already, did he?”

“He’s really worried about you. He told me he’d never seen you looking like that, not even when you came home from the war.”

“Hmmm. I shouldn’t have gone over there and said all that stuff to him. I am such a wanker for doing it. I’ll make it up to him somehow. So how are things with my big sis?”

“Good try, E, but I’m not going for it. My brother finally falls in love with someone and you think I am just going to let that juicy tidbit fall away? What do you take me for? We both know who the smartest sibling is here.”

I sighed at my sister. “Not arguing with you on that point, Han.”

“Wow. You really have changed, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I have. I hope it’s for the good. And Dad can stop worrying about me, we’re back together now so I’m no longer the wretched, broken creature he last saw.”

“Have you been reading poetry, Ethan? You sound different.”

“No comment,” I said through her sarcasm. “Listen, I wondered if I could bring her up to your place for a weekend. I think Brynne would love Hallborough, and I’d rather like to get her out of the city for a few days. Can you and Freddy squeeze us in?”

“For you? For the chance to meet this American who has transformed my aloof, unattached little brother into a sappy, lovesick drinker of Mexican beers? No problem.”

I laughed. “Good. Let me know the dates, Han. I want all of you to meet her, and your lovely home would be the perfect place to do that. And I miss the kids.”

“They miss their uncle Ethan. Okay . . . I’ll check the books and let you know when. It’s starting to get busier with the Games coming.”

“You don’t have to tell me that. The whole city’s gone mad and we’re just in June!”

We hung up and I looked out the window, waiting for Brynne. I pulled out her mobile from my pocket and brought up the text that had ruined my otherwise peaceful day. Some bloke named Alex Craven from the Victoria and Albert Museum that I would just love to turn into a eunuch: Brynne, Lovely seeing you again today. Brill on the Mallerton too. I’d very much love to take you to dinner and discuss further how we can get you on staff. Didn’t know you modeled but now I’ve seen your pictures I must know more! –Alex

I am sure I cut the side of my tongue from gritting my teeth together. The urge to reply back was something I wanted to do so badly I could taste it next to the tang of blood in my mouth—along the lines of: Sod off, you idiot tosser. She’s taken and her man will cut off your balls if you so much as think about her naked. –Ethan w/ the big knife. Of course I didn’t, but just barely.

God, how to handle myself? I was no bloody good at this sort of thing. Jealousy sucked, and I would be in for a shitload with Brynne—part of the package with her, when she was so beautiful and on display so prominently. I needed more reassurance from her, and I was pretty sure she wasn’t ready for giving me any more just yet.

The passenger door opened and in she came, plopping on the seat, flushed from a dash through the light drizzle that’d started in the time since I had parked. She grinned and leaned toward me for a kiss.

“Well there you are,” I said and pulled her against me. Her skin was a little cold, but her lips were warm and soft for me.

Fuck yes, for me!

I plundered that mouth of hers and held her face to mine, claiming her with my tongue deeply so she could feel how much I wanted her. She allowed the invasion at first and I didn’t let up until she squeaked, telling me I needed to back off. I released her and leaned to the side in my seat to look at her.

“Sorry, that was a little beastly of me.” I gave her my best chastised look.

Her face changed and her eyes got that searching look in them. Christ, she was beautiful. No wonder cocksuckers named Alex wanted her naked. I wanted her naked. Like right fucking now! Her hair was down today and she had on a dark green jacket and a scarf. The color was lovely on her, picking up the green and hazel in her eyes, and she had a few drops of rain sprinkled in her hair.

“What’s wrong, Ethan?”

“Why do you think something’s wrong?”

“Just a really good hunch,” she smirked, “and the tongue lashing confirmed it.”

I shook my head. “I just missed you is all. How was your luncheon with those colleagues you wanted to impress?”

“It was awesome. I got to share about Lady Percival’s restoration, and it really gave them a hook to remember me by. I hope something comes of it. Maybe it will.” She smiled. “And I owe it all to you.” She kissed me once on the lips and took my chin in her hand.

I tried to smile back. I thought I did, but apparently I suck at faking my feelings just as much as I suck at dealing with my jealousy. Oh something will come of it, baby. Alex Craven will get a hard-on and the hook will be remembering your naked pictures, not the soulful Lady Percival holding her rare and precious book! Mallerton’s paintings can go to rot, it’s Brynne Bennett on his cock that he wants!

She sighed at me. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? You just growled and I’m pretty sure growling is not a universal signal for happiness and harmony.” She looked very annoyed with me.

“This came through a bit ago.” I set her mobile on her lap with the text on screen.

She picked it up and read it, swallowed once and then looked sideways at me. “You got jealous when you saw this.” Not a question.

I nodded at her. Might as well let it all hang out while we were at it. “He wants to fuck you.”

All men do when they see your nude photographs. I wasn’t moronic enough to say that to her, but man I could sure think it if I wanted. It was the bare naked truth!

“I highly doubt that, Ethan.”

“Is he gay then?”

She shrugged. “I don’t think Alex is gay, but I don’t really know.”

“Then he definitely wants to fuck you,” I said grimly out the window now coated with drizzle and setting a mood in perfect harmony with how I felt.

“Ethan, look at me.”

The tone of her command shocked the hell out of me. And got me hard.

I looked over at my girl who had come to mean so much to me in such a short time and wondered what she wanted to say. I didn’t know how to share her, or how to not be jealous, or how to be the graceful partner of a nude art model that other men only wanted to drool over or fantasize about fucking. I just didn’t know how to be that man.

“Alex Craven is not a he.”

Brynne rolled her lips together to keep from laughing outright. It didn’t matter. I was relieved enough to take her teasing and then some.

“Oh,” I managed, feeling very, very foolish, “well then, you should go to dinner with Alex Craven and I’ll wish you a ton of luck, baby. She sounds like she really wants to hire you.” I nodded.

She laughed at me and said, “You worry far too much, baby.”

I leaned toward her lips but didn’t touch them. “I can’t help worrying, and I love it when you call me baby.” I kissed her again, this time not like a Neanderthal, but how I should have kissed her in the first place. I threaded my fingers around her head and tried to show her what she meant to me. I pulled back slowly with a few nibbles to her bottom lip, bringing my hand down the side of her face and down her neck. “I want to take you home now. My place. I need that . . . badly.”

I hope she knew this was my version of a request. I’d asked her to bring enough clothes for a few days but couldn’t be sure she’d actually done it. I just wanted her with me all the time. I couldn’t explain it any different than a very deep wanting . . . a requirement of having her right there for me to talk to and touch. And fuck. It made me such a needy bastard, but I just didn’t care anymore, and holding back from pushing her was annoyingly difficult.

“All right, your place tonight.” She brought her hand up to my hair and fingered it, searching me again with her intelligent eyes. I swear she could read me like an open book, and I wondered why she even put up with me. I hoped it was because she was beginning to love me back, but I hated to ponder much because I always returned to . . . what if she doesn’t?

“Thank you.” I took her hand from where she held it and brought it to my lips to kiss. I lifted my eyes to see her reaction and was pretty damn happy to see that smile of hers. I smiled back and put the car in drive. Time to get my girl home alone, where I could act on all those things I really wanted to do with her.

 

• • •

 

The chicken parmigiana in my mouth was perfectly prepared with succulent meat, savory sauce and spices, but the company sitting across from me at my table was even better.

I’d watched her make it earlier while I worked from my laptop. Sort of. I’d come out and set up on the kitchen bar and got to look over and smile at her sometimes. I enjoyed the sounds of her working in the kitchen very much. It was a nice feeling along with the delicious smells coming from a room I rarely spent much time in. Smells of our dinner that Brynne was making with her lovely hands.

Pretty fucking sexy stuff if you ask me.

It was different than what Annabelle did for me—an employee who cleaned and cooked things and labeled them in the freezer. This was something real. A thing people do because they care, not because they are being paid.

Having a woman in my home cooking for me was not something I had any experience with either. But I was pretty sure I could get used to it. Yup. Brynne had me hooked. Brilliant, sexy, beautiful, accomplished, a damn fine cook—and beyond fine spread out underneath me in my bed. Did I mention sexy and beautiful? I thought about bedtime for us later.

I took another bite and savored the taste. She had her hair up in one of those claw clips and a deep V-necked top in crimson that drew my eyes right down to her mouthwatering nipples, which were budded up nicely and screaming for my mouth. A few long strands of hair had slipped from her hair clip and rested over the swells of her cleavage. Mmmmm . . . delicious.

“I’m glad you think so. This is really simple to make,” she said.

I watched her mouth and lips as she took a sip of wine, totally shocked I had spoken aloud and glad she thought I was merely talking about the food. “How did you learn to cock so well?” I sputtered, “I mean cook!”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

I gave her a grin and a wink. “You do both so well, baby, my cock and the cooking part.”

“You idiot,” she scolded. “I watched cooking shows and learned. My dad let me experiment on him after the divorce. You can ask him about when I first started cooking.” She laughed and speared another bite of dinner and popped it into her mouth. “But better not ask him about when I started cocking you!”

I laughed at myself and hung my head. “Not as good as this food you’ve made tonight then?”

“Not even close. My first attempts were awful, and Daddy paid the price. He never complained, though.”

“Your dad is no fool, and he loves you so very much.”

“I’m glad you two talked it out. He really does like you, Ethan. He respects you a lot.” She smiled at me.

“Ahhh, well I feel the same about him.” I hesitated before bringing up her mum, but figured I should. “I don’t think your mum was too impressed with me today, though. Sorry about that. I thought it best to introduce myself and tell her what I was doing in your life—I probably could have said it more tactfully, though.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. She actually said she’s glad you’re watching out for me, and that you sounded determined to make sure nothing happens . . .”

I caught the falter in her voice and wanted nothing more than to reassure her, but I waited for her to finish.

“She thinks you’re obsessed with me, though.” Brynne toyed with her chicken.

I shrugged. “I didn’t hold back with her, it’s true. I told your mum how I feel about you.”

She smiled at me. “She told me that too. Pretty brave of you, Ethan.”

“Telling the truth is not brave, it’s expected.” I shook my head. “It’s important to me that your parents know I’m not just providing security for their daughter.” I reached a hand toward her. “It’s important that you know that too, Brynne, because you’re so much more to me.”

She put her hand into mine and I gripped it, closing my eyes as well as my fingers around the delicate bones of her hand. The same lovely hand that had made my dinner tonight, and tied my tie this morning. The same hand that would be touching my body when I took her to bed and laid her out in a very short while from now.

“You are too, Ethan.”

I felt that possessiveness come over me again. I swear it worked like a switch. One minute I was tolerating our situation well, or thought I was, and then something was spoken, or alluded to, and bam, I went into I-need-to-fuck-you-now land.

Her words were all I needed to hear. I rose up from my chair and took her with me, picking her up with my arms and feeling those long legs of hers wrap around my waist so I could carry her out of the dining room and into the bedroom.

She held the sides of my face and kissed me madly the whole way I carried her. I wasn’t complaining. I loved it when she was all sexed up. And Brynne could be like that.

Thank. Fuck.

I peeled her top and bottoms off her, not waiting for the foreplay of stripping, needing to see her body before I totally lost it. She had on a violet bra and a black thong. I groaned down at her from above. “What are you trying to do, woman, kill me?”

She smiled and slowly shook her head back and forth. “Never,” she whispered.

I leaned down and kissed her slow and sweet for that answer, but my heart was beating hard and fast. God, I loved how she was with me, so soft and alluring—accepting of me.

I loved many things about her.

I flipped her over onto her stomach and unhooked that pretty bra and ditched the thong. I just took in the sight and breathed out, dragging my hands down her back, her hips, the cheeks of her lovely ass and then back up again.

Once she was naked, I calmed some and slowed it down. I left my clothes on and stretched out beside her. She turned her face to mine and we just stared at each other.

I reached for the hair clip and took it away, spreading her hair out on her back and shoulders. Brynne had long, silky hair. I loved to touch it and drag my fingers through pieces of it. I loved when it whipped my chest when she was on top of me working out my cock. I loved to grab a huge handful and hold her with it while I fucked her to a shattering orgasm and she cried out my name.

But I didn’t do any of that tonight. Instead I worked her over slowly and carefully, getting into all the places I have to be with my tongue and my fingers, making her come and come again before I got undressed and my cock into her.

We fit beautifully together like this. Sex with her shattered me down to my deepest levels of complexity; even if Brynne wasn’t aware, I was. I don’t even know what I said to her during the heat of it. I say all kinds of things to her because she likes my filthy mouth. She told me so. It’s a damn good thing too because I cannot help it. The filter between my brain and my mouth is pretty much nonexistent.

I still didn’t know what I said to her after the explosive orgasm that had me so drained I began drifting off to sleep still buried inside her and hoping she let me stay there for a while.

But I knew it when she said, “I love you too.”

My eyes flew open and I stared into the dark and held on to her. I replayed the sound of those words over and over and over again.

Fuck. They’re going to do it. My heart started to pump as fear like I’d never known raced on adrenaline-charged veins throughout my body. I’d been waiting for this to come. Deep down I knew it would but to save my sanity I’d pushed it away. Denial worked for a while but the time for that had expired.

“Are you ready?” he asked me. The creature who asked the question was the one I wanted to gut, and leave to leak out slowly. The one who talked about HER. The one who taunted all the time about hurting her.

Fuck, NOOOOO!

I shook my head as he advanced on me, his face very close, the smoke from his clove handrolled swirling and tantalizing, making my mouth water. Funny how I could crave a cigarette in a moment like this, but I did. I would’ve pulled the fuckin’ thing out of his mouth and shoved it in mine if I could’ve.

My arms were pinned from behind by another and my nose plugged. I tried to hold my breath and go out that way but my body betrayed me. The second I gasped in a breath he poured something vile down my throat. I tried to keep the elixir from going down, but again my body took over in a basic function to keep me breathing. How ironic. They were drugging me in order to execute me . . . so I wouldn’t fight the process . . . so they could videotape my death and show it around the world.

No. No! NO!

I fought it with everything I possessed but he just laughed at my efforts. I felt tears squeeze out of my eyes but I was sure I wasn’t crying. I never cried.

He barked out the order and then I saw it. The camera. A subordinate set it up on a tripod while I stared and let the tears roll out as the opium started its hold upon me.

I was indeed crying, I realized.

But not for the reasons they thought. I cried for my dad and for my sister. For my girl. They would have to see this . . . thing  . . . be done to me. The whole world would watch. She would see.

“Introduce yourself!” he ordered.

I shook my head and gestured to the camera. “No video! No VIDEO, you cocksucker! NO FUCKING VIDEO—”

The backhand across my mouth was so brutal it shut me up by force of the blow. He barked another order at the one with the video camera, who aimed the lens at my tags and read in halting English: “Blackstone, E. SAS. Captain. Two nine one five zero one.”

He started toward me again, and this time he pulled a khukuri out of its sheath. The blade was curved and finely honed. Even in my drug-weakened ability to react to what was coming, I could see the tool was well prepared for the job it was about to do.

I thought of my mum. I’d wanted her all my life and now more than ever. I wasn’t brave. I was afraid to die. What would happen to Brynne? Who would protect her from them once I was gone?

Oh, God . . .

“No video. No video. No video. No video,” was all I could utter. And if the sound was no longer an utterance capable via my mouth then it would be the last thing in my mind along with, “I’m so sorry, Dad. Hannah. Brynne . . . I’m so fucking sorry . . .”

“Ethan! Baby, wake up. You’re having a dream.” The sweetest voice met my ears and the softest hands touched me.

I bolted up gasping, consciousness cranking me into a state of hyper-alertness. Her hands fell away as I slammed into the headboard and sucked in oxygen. Poor Brynne, eyes wide, looked horrified as she sat up with me in bed.

“Oh, fuck!” I panted, accepting the reality of where I was.

Breathe, motherfucker!

I’d done this many times. It was only in my head. Not real. But here I sat, losing my shit royally in front of my girl. It had to be scary for her and I regretted that deeply. I felt like I might be sick.

She reached out again, the cool touch of her hand on my chest grounding me, bringing me back to the here and now. Brynne was right here next to me in the bed, not in that fucked-up dream again. I kept bringing her into my nightmares. Why in the hell was I doing that?

She scooted closer and I clutched at her hand on my chest, needing her touch like a lifeline.

“What was that about, Ethan? You were shouting stuff and thrashing all over the place in the bed. I couldn’t wake you—”

“What did I say?” I cut her off.

“Ethan,” she said soothingly, reaching for my face, her fingers grazing my jaw.

“What did I say?” I yelled, grabbing her hand and holding it out from my body, feeling the urge to retch at the thought of what might have come out of my mouth. She flinched back and my heart broke for frightening her, but I had to know. I stared at her in the dark and tried to take in enough oxygen to fill my lungs. A nearly pointless exercise, though. There wasn’t enough air in all of London to satisfy me right now.

“You were saying ‘No video’ over and over. What does that mean, Ethan?”

The sheet had fallen down to her waist, baring her lovely naked breasts in the glow of the moon peeking through the skylights. I saw a wariness in her eyes as she tugged her hand out of my grip, and I hated it. I let her go.

“I’m sorry. I—I have dreams sometimes. Sorry for shouting at you.” I lurched out of bed and into the bathroom. I hung over the sink and let the water flow over my head, rinsed my mouth and drank from the faucet. Fuck, I needed to get my shit together—this was so not right. I had to be strong for her. All that stuff was ancient history and buried in the hell of my past. It was not welcome in my present and sure as hell not in my future with Brynne.

Her arms wrapped around me from behind. I could feel her naked against my back, and it woke my cock up. She pressed her lips to my scars and kissed. “Talk to me. Tell me what that was back there.” Her soft voice carried the strength of steely determination, but there was no way I could bring her into that tortured mess.

No fucking way she’s going there with me. Not her innocent self.

“No. I don’t want to.” I looked into the mirror over the sink and saw myself, water dripping off my hair, Brynne’s arms wrapped from around my sides to rest her hands on my chest where my heart was pounding mercilessly from an immense nightmare of all kinds of fucked up. Yet she was holding me, holding my heart in her beautiful hands. She’d followed me in here to comfort me.

“What video, Ethan? You kept screaming about a video.”

“I’m not talking about it!” I closed my eyes at the sound of my voice against hers, hating the anger in it, hating she had to see me like this.

“Was it because of me? The video of me?” She took her hands away and backed off me. “You said you never saw it.” I could hear the hurt in her voice and imagine where her mind was going with this scenario. She couldn’t be more off the mark.

I lost it then, totally and completely, fearful she might not trust me, terrified she would leave again. I spun around and pulled her against me hard. “No, baby. Not that. Please. It’s not that. It’s me—from the past—a bad time for me in the war.”

“You won’t tell, though. Why can’t you say what happened to you—your scars. Ethan?”

She tried to pull away, to make distance between us, but hell if I would allow it. “No, Brynne, I need you. Don’t pull away from me.”

“I’m not—”

I cut her words off with my mouth crushed against hers, owning her with my tongue so deep all she could do was take it. I picked her up and stumbled to the bed with her. I had to be inside her, in every way. I needed the validation that she was here, that I was alive, that she was safe in my care, that I was alive . . . that she was safe . . . that I was alive . . .

“Baby, you’re so beautiful and good for me. You’re fucking everything to me, okay? Tell me that you want me.” I was babbling as I pushed her legs apart with my knees and got two fingers inside her wet heat. I started stroking, working all that spunk from before all around and over her clit how she liked.

“I want you, Ethan,” she answered breathily, her sex heating up for me, ready to take me in. God, I battled the razor’s edge of control when she got all submissive with me—the ultimate turn-on even though she was really the first woman where it worked like that.

“Tell me you’ll let me have all of you. Every part. I want it all, Brynne!”

“I’ll let you!” she cried out. “I’m right here.”

I speared into her mouth again, deep and thorough with my tongue, my fingers moving inside her pussy, getting her wetter still. “Your mouth is mine when you wrap those raspberry lips around my cock and suck me off.”

She moved underneath me. I dragged away from her lips to latch onto a nipple. I bit down enough to get the moan out of her then sucked deep to plump it back up before doing the same to the other breast. “Your beautiful tits belong to me too. When I bite on them and suck and drive you mad.”

“Oh, God . . .”

I moved down her body, my fingers still up in her, sliding along her nub, getting her closer to climax. “This sweet honey cunt is always mine when I cram it full of my cock and blow a load of cum up into it.” I whispered more filthy talk and felt sure it got her hotter.

She writhed and rolled her head around and I loved that I was making her wild.

I flicked my tongue over her clit and even put my teeth on it, nipping her flesh until I heard her cry and switched to soothing, ever so gently with a soft touch, stringing her out further and further.

“I need more! Fuck me, Ethan!”

Oh yeah, she was hotter.

Holy hell, I finally had my girl right where I wanted her. I went mad with the taste of her all over my tongue, my taste, her scent, her warmth, the soaking wet, octane-fueled sex!

“I can give you more, baby. I want to give you more.” I pulled my fingers out of her quim, sliding them back to her other hole, and rimmed the opening with my drenched index finger. She gasped in a breath and stilled. I lifted my head and moved up her body, one arm propping me, the other hand free to explore. I slipped just my fingertip inside and met her gaze. She looked wild, her eyes flaring. “I want in here, Brynne. Will you let me fuck your beautiful ass?” I spoke up against her quivering lips and bit on the bottom one, my fingertip still teasing her entrance, waiting for her answer.

“Yes!” It came out a harsh whisper but definitely agreement.

I pulled away and flipped her onto her stomach. I gripped her hips up in the air and split her legs wide so I could get to her from on my knees. She was stunning. Totally spread for me, anticipating and accepting and off-the-charts perfect.

My hand on my shaft, I slid the head around her drenched sex, working it over her clit again and again, getting her closer to coming and my cock well lubed.

“Mmm hmm,” I groaned, centering the bell end against her tight hole. “You are something so fucking perfect . . .” I pushed and penetrated just the tip of my cock, trying to open her up a bit, and thought I could easily lose it. As in ejaculating before I ever got inside her.

She tensed and arched from my invasion so I eased up immediately, putting my palm on her lower back to steady her. “Easy . . . relax for me, baby.” She stilled and breathed heavy, waiting on me, submitting to my desires; so perfectly takeable and gloriously tight with her muscle gripping around the head of my ready-to-blow cock. I didn’t want to hurt her, but my God, what a spectacular turn-on to be poised like I was, about to claim that final place where I could meld into her.

She quivered beneath me. “You’re about to make me come, baby. I want to so badly, but you first. I’m gonna make you feel so good!”

“Ethan, please make me come!” She squirmed against my just tipped cock ready to take me all the way. I realized she would allow me in even if it was painful because she was such a generous lover.

Saints help me!

It took everything I had not to sink into that stretched, mysterious part of her I had yet to claim. I wanted to. I needed to. But I wanted and needed to cherish her more. I knew I would hurt her and she was nowhere near ready. We’d have to work up to it—something to look forward to. Like any new thing we did together. I was out of my fucking mind right now and this was not the moment to push her into anal for the first time with me.

“Brynne . . . I love you so much,” I whispered against her back, notching my cock down to find her pussy. The flesh was so hot it burned when we touched. I heard my own shout when I slammed deep inside her and started to fuck. My hands on her hips gripped tight, knocking her back hard onto my shaft, again and again and again, the sounds of our bodies slapping amid grunts as pure pleasure took over from there.

We were at it for a long time. I needed that terrorized dream out of my system and fucking was a way for me to make that happen. If you can fuck then you are alive—the brutal logic was fairly hard to dispute there.

It was pretty rough shagging too, even for us. And Brynne could take it rough from me. She had before and she would again because I’d never let her go. Never. I couldn’t imagine doing the things I’d just done to her with anyone else. I knew I wouldn’t be able to.

I understood later in the dark, after the crazed sex trip I’d dragged her on, and after she fell into a deep sleep beside me. She’d come so many times she just passed out from exhaustion once I could finally bring myself to stop. She never asked me to stop, though. My girl gave herself to me and didn’t press for answers. And I was glad because I didn’t want to talk about any of it yet. My insides were far too raw after my nightmare.

I wanted to light up but denied myself. It felt wrong in regards to her. It was wrong to subject her to my unhealthful smoking and I wouldn’t do it around her anymore.

Watching her sleeping after that session, her methodical breathing, her long lashes resting above her cheekbones, her hair swirling wildly over the pillow, completely took my breath away. I knew I had found my angel at last and I would hold onto her with everything I had.

No more yielding but a dream . . .

She saved me from the utter madness of my torment. She made me want things I’d never wanted before. I would kill if I had to in order to keep her safe. It would kill me if anything ever happened to her.

Eventually I was able to fall asleep again, and it was only because she was right there with me.


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