Alice Benson and Mike Key.
The modern-day Bonnie and Clyde, minus the crime, publicity, and recklessness.
I never thought I would like the silence that comes with safety, but now I find comfort in it. The quiet of the forest or the roaring waves have become second nature. I thought nothing could compare to the exhilaration of standing in a ring, staring at a man who wants to rip my spine clean from my body. But, as always, I find what I need in Bella. Chasing her through the woods, arguing over a board game, and making risky turns on the road because she sucks at giving directions.
I could live like this for the rest of my life and die a happy man.
A slap echoes through the forest when my gloved fists meet the punching bag. It doesn’t stave off the desire to beat someone the fuck up, but it makes the burning need more manageable.
I glance over to my girl, sitting under a tree beside the lake, wearing my favorite sundress, brows locked in concentration as she sketches away on her drawing pad.
“Margaret said if I get an A on all my papers, she’ll get me a gaming computer.” I can barely hear Jeremy’s voice from here.
“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Bella grumbles, grabbing an eraser off the picnic blanket.
“TJ’s aunt bought him one,” he protests.
“TJ is also the smartest kid in school and can only play on it over the weekends.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me. Margaret still makes me sit at the table with her every day to study. It’s basically corporal punishment.”
“Trust me, little guy, it isn’t.”
Their conversations continue back and forth until he gets a call on the other line, then Bella goes back to drawing.
We’ve created quite the duo with her commissions. Sometimes, we collaborate on a piece to create a contrast of her soft curves and light shading with my sharp lines and dark strokes. Our version of Bonnie and Clyde.
Except she’s the star of the show because sometimes I really can’t be bothered drawing. I have to be in the right state of mind, and half the time, I’d rather be touching Bella than wasting my attention on some no-name on the internet.
Bella is here, and she’s all mine. Except when she neglects me because she’s talking to Jeremy on the phone.
She’s not the only one working while we travel around the country—twelve states and counting. Thanks to the internet, I can pick up whatever job I want. Including getting my money’s worth after I forked out a little too much on a whole ass professional tattoo kit on an impulse.
Am I good at it?
Meh.
Is it up to safety standards?
Eh.
I steal glances at her between punches, my heart pumping double-time when my eyes land on the “M” tattooed on her ring finger in cursive writing. Hidden beneath the boxing gloves, I have a “B” in gothic lettering to match.
Catching my stare, I wink at her, and she rises to her feet, fixing her dress and leaving her drawing pad behind as she skips over to me with a mischievous glint in her eyes. White and dangerously short, swishing around her legs as she moves, her dress is a major distraction. My dick stands at attention at the sight. She doesn’t need to do anything, and I’m ready to sink into her mouth or pussy; I’ll take whatever she gives me.
I grin as she makes her way over to me, muscles pumped and ready to wrap her smooth legs around me.
As she closes the distance, I reach my hand out for her. Instead of taking it, the little shit grabs my arm, spins around, then throws me over her fucking shoulder. Just like I taught her.
Ain’t no way will “the student becomes the master” bullshit fly here, but shit, am I impressed she pulled that off on the first try.
I didn’t even see it coming.
She plops down, straddling my raging cock with her warm, inviting center. Tilting her head with a shit-eating grin, she says, “Gotcha.”
I smirk, chucking my gloves off to feel her warm thighs beneath my hands. “Not just a pretty face, are you, Mrs. Riviera?”
She snorts. “I think I missed the part where we got married.”
Shrugging, I say, “You might as well get used to the name.”
“You haven’t proposed.”
She isn’t wrong. I sorta sat her down, grabbed her hand, and started tattooing my first initial—well, the initial of her name for me. Much to my surprise, she didn’t fight at all; she just complained that I should have waited to do it until after we moved on from the beach.
“Didn’t need to,” I say. She yelps as I spin us over so that she’s under me. “You’re already mine. No need to put meaningless labels on it.”
Roman and Isabella can’t get legally married because, apparently, there’s a warrant out for our arrests. But Alice and Michael can, and neither of us wants to seal the deal under a name that isn’t ours.
She arches a brow. “How many times have you called me your wife?”
I shrug. “You are.”
She doesn’t get another word in before my head is between her legs for breakfast, and I stop short. Bella isn’t wearing any panties. “Fuck, baby girl,” I rasp. “You’re going to kill me.”
Her ensuing giggle makes my cock strain harder against the loose shorts. My tongue descends on her, and fuck, if she isn’t the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.
I’ve become an addict with many vices that all revolve around Bella, and I need my daily hit. I don’t care when, whether for breakfast, dessert, or a midnight feast, I need to have her coming on my tongue at least once a day. Her taste is too addicting.
Her breathing labors and hiccups as she starts mewling, grinding her hips against my face as I flick my tongue out and lick every inch of her sweet cunt. Bella buckles when I latch onto her sensitive nub.
My hands climb up her body to pull her dress down to her waist. Pinching her nipples, she moans into the sky.
Delicate fingers grip onto my hair, uselessly attempting to pull me away. I’ll comply with my terms. I plunge my tongue into her pussy, pummeling in and out until her moans quicken and echo through the forest, crying out my name as she shudders beneath me.
“Ten out of ten, would come back for seconds,” I tease, running kisses up and down her thighs.
She’s too delirious to respond, panting hard without noticing I’ve lined up my cock with her entrance. “Any last words?”
Blinking rapidly, she focuses on me, then on the space between us where I run my tip through the wet heat. “Jesus Christ,” she moans when I push against her sensitive skin.
“God won’t save you from me.” I move my hips forward, breaching her tight cunt, and I don’t stop.
Bella was made for me, and I was made for her. There isn’t a part of her that I don’t love. She’s the one who brought me out of the darkness and made it feel like life was still worth living, even if I were in a box.
Her moans dance through the air and filter into my bones. I couldn’t get enough of her before, and I don’t see myself ever thinking I’ve had my fill.
Moisture drips down my legs from the area where we’re joined. “You’re always so fucking wet for me.” I chuckle, gripping her cheeks between my thumb and pointer finger. “You’re my dirty little slut, aren’t you, baby?”
She nods frantically as her muscles contract around my length. My hand finds her clit, and I start moving in circles just the way she likes. She always looks so beautiful when she’s about to come, fluttering lashes and gasping breaths. The way her nipples pebble into biteable points as her chest rises and falls has my mouth watering for a taste.
Then, for the best part, she throws her head back and screams my name like it’s the only word she knows. Her legs tighten around me, and her body convulses with the need for a break.
Without any warning, my release finds me, emptying myself inside her. Her heavy breaths hit the side of my face as I drop down onto her, bracing myself on my elbows on either side of her head so I don’t crush her.
Nothing in this life or the next would hold a candle to her, from her glowing brown Bambi eyes to her plump pink lips. Every part of her is perfect.
I can’t wait to live the rest of my life with her. To see her the second I wake up in the morning and have her by my side at breakfast. To hear her laugh during lunch and smile during dinner. Then, have her in my arms when the lights go out; all that will matter is me and her.
My sweet Bella.
I must have done something right in my life to end up here.
It wasn’t love at first sight. Not in the conventional way.
The moment she spoke, I thought she was only speaking words. I didn’t see the net she threw to capture me. But I never fought it. Deep down, I knew this was where I was meant to be.
The easiest thing I’ve ever done is love her.
If I could do it all again, I would do it the exact same way.
I would pick her. Every time.
currently crying. I need me a Mickey.. 🥹