We will not fulfill any book request that does not come through the book request page or does not follow the rules of requesting books. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Comments are manually approved by us. Thus, if you don't see your comment immediately after leaving a comment, understand that it is held for moderation. There is no need to submit another comment. Even that will be put in the moderation queue.

Please avoid leaving disrespectful comments towards other users/readers. Those who use such cheap and derogatory language will have their comments deleted. Repeat offenders will be blocked from accessing this website (and its sister site). This instruction specifically applies to those who think they are too smart. Behave or be set aside!

When it Raynes: Chapter 28

RAYNE

I stare at her long after she falls asleep, her hair splays across my chest and brings warmth to the surface.

It’s never been like this before. I’ve fucked a lot of women, more than my fair share, but it’s never felt so… right. The way her body molds to mine like she belongs in my arms, how receptive she is to everything I give her, and how she took every bit of her punishment without complaint, and she looked so fucking beautiful doing so.

The hole in my chest that has never housed a heart suddenly feels full. The cold, beating thing that keeps my blood pumping suddenly feels warm, and it’s foreign, but it’s right.

I drift off the sleep with my woman in my arms, my semi hard cock still inside her as we both fall into a deep slumber.

I wake sometime later and Emerson is still sprawled out on top of me, her gentle snore causes my lips to tug into a smile. She’s perfect. So fucking perfect it almost hurts.

I’m not a man that allows myself to feel much of anything. Pain. Anguish. Love. Emotion is foreign to me, but the moment I laid eyes on my girl I felt everything. Dad told me it would be like this. When Storm and I were kids he used to tell us that someday we would find a woman who would make the world feel right again. She would slot into our life like she was always there, like she belonged in our arms, and we would be powerless to fight it.

I always thought it was bullshit. My parents loved one another fiercely, but I never thought it would happen to me. We were raised surrounded by love, but also danger. Every time Dad left the house I saw the way my mom worried, the way she sat in the recliner by the front door and waited for him to come home at all hours of the night.

When he was hurt she would tend to his wounds, never asking a question about how he got them.

And when he came home one day and told her he was now the head of the biggest criminal organization in the country, she didn’t bat an eye.

Their love was enough to weather even the toughest of storms, and I never expected I would find that. And yet the woman who was so oblivious to my obvious obsession with her until I spelled it out lays peacefully on my chest.

I close my eyes and breathe her in. She smells like her, fruity and intoxicating, but it’s mixed with my scent, only making me feel more possessive than I ever have before.

I’ve marked her.

I’ve claimed her.

And now she smells like me.

If I ever allow her out of my bed, it will be a miracle, but I have business to attend to. Business in the way of making Russo pay for thinking he could touch my woman. The moment I left the Center that first day, I put her and her father under Saint James’ protection, and that means something in Chicago. It means that if anyone dare fuck with them, they’ll have hell to pay, and just because Russo is the enemy, it does not mean he’s exempt from that hell.

Gently, I roll Emerson onto the mattress beside me and she immediately rolls back into me, as if the warmth of my body calls to her even in her sleep. I’m glad it’s not one-sided, that I don’t have to force the issue, because while there isn’t a thing on this earth, Emerson included, that would keep her away from me, I don’t want to ever see the fire in her eyes dim.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’ve always liked submissive women, women who know their place and don’t cross the line. But when Emerson looked me right in the eye and walked over it like it didn’t exist, it was hot as fucking hell. She pushes me, challenges me, and for the first time since I pulled the trigger and ended someone’s life for the first time when I was twelve, I find myself feeling again.

Now that I’ve had her, there’s no going back. Hell, who am I kidding? There was no going back even before I sunk into her sweet pussy. I have an uphill battle ahead of me, and I can’t wait to see how my little hellcat reacts when I lay down the law. There are a lot of things I am willing to compromise on, but there are some that she isn’t going to get a say in and she isn’t going to like it.

I roll out of bed hesitantly and pad across the hardwood floors to the attached bathroom. I’ve never made the penthouse a home, it’s always just been somewhere to eat and sleep, but with Emerson here it feels warmer.

When I come out from taking care of business, I find Emerson sprawled out in the middle of the bed, her hair a halo around her head. She’s beautiful. So fucking beautiful it hurts. I’m not immune to the fact I almost lost her last night. If I’d been even a minute later, that scum would have violated her, and five minutes could have meant she was gone.

I would have torn this city apart looking for her, but there’s no guarantee if she was taken to Russo’s territory. The Saint James family has reach, but there are some places not even we can touch.

I stand in the doorway for long minutes watching her. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she dreams peacefully, the skin that peeks out over the top of the sheet, how peaceful she looks in sleep. The sun hits her in a way that makes her look like an angel. My angel.

I swipe my phone off the bedside table beside her and quickly read through my messages. I’m not normally away from my phone for so long. When you’re in my line of work, you learn to sleep a few hours at a time because the saying is true. There’s no rest for the wicked, and I’m as wicked as they come.

I have messages from every member of my family wanting an update about Emerson, wanting to make sure she’s okay. They’ve met her once but they already know she’s now a permanent fixture in their lives. I don’t think they quite believed that until they saw us together, until they saw just how deep I am with this woman.

Storm’s message is a little longer and so I respond to everyone else, letting them know she’s okay and still sleeping it off before opening it.

I have security at every exit of your building and two at the door. I’ve also arranged permanent security for Emerson, people already in the ranks who we trust to keep her safe. I have Everett going through that shitbag’s phone and emails to see if we can find a request for him to grab her from Russo. We can’t start a war without proof.

I take deep calming breaths. What more proof do we need other than that asshole forcing himself on my woman before taking her back to his boss. But I know that’s not how things work, and I’m not going to start something we can’t finish.

I’m taking today off. If you need something dealt with, call Tommy.

I’m just about to climb back into bed with Emerson when his response comes in.

I can’t remember you ever taking a day off… enjoy

I smirk. I haven’t taken a day off in years. Even the days I was at the Center, I went to work afterward. There were days on end where I barely shut my eyes between the competing responsibilities that led me to my sweet girl.

Carefully, I climb into the bed, lifting the sheet from around Emerson’s body so I can take her in. I’ve never seen something so perfect in my life. I didn’t know perfection existed until I locked eyes on her. Her skin looks impossibly soft as I run my hungry gaze over every inch of her until I find my target. Her perfect pussy. I need to taste her, to remind her over and over again who she belongs to.

I position myself between her legs, parting them gently to avoid waking her too soon. Her scent hits me immediately and I feel drunk. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of her sweet pussy, but I’ll spend my whole life trying to get my fill of her.

I place soft kisses along the inside of her thighs, over her mound, across her lower belly, everywhere but her pussy, but she doesn’t stir. She has a lot of sleep to catch up on, and she can get back to sleep once I’ve been inside her again.

I swipe my tongue across her clit a few times, before dragging it from her ass, through her folds and up to the crest. My touches are gentle but firm as I hold her legs spread for me to feast on her.

Emerson’s head moves from side to side, her hands moving to push the foreign feeling away before a moan slips from her pouty lips. Her eyes are closed though as her fingers move into my hair and push my face further into her. Her hips grind against my face greedily and I swear to fucking god I almost come. I’ve never seen anything as sexy as Emerson using me for her pleasure while she sleeps.

Slowly, her eyes flutter open, the bright green irises meeting mine as I close my lips around her clit and suck. Hard.

A surprised scream fills the room, but her hips are still seeking me out. She needs more and she’s not afraid to take. I’ll always give her what she needs, but she needs to learn to get it on my terms.

“Rayne,” she breathes my name like a prayer. But you don’t pray to the devil. She’ll learn that sooner or later.

“Good morning, sweet girl.” I smile up at her as my tongue draws lazy circles around the sensitive nub at the crest of her pussy. I could do this all day. Her taste, her pussy gushing for me, it’s fucking addictive.

“Good morning,” Emerson groans, her fist grasping my hair tightly.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Are we making small talk while you eat my pussy?” She pushes my face into her harder, as if she’s trying to shut me up.

I chuckle against her wetness and feel warmth seep into every pore. This feels domestic. This feels like a way I would like to start every day for the rest of my fucking life. Emerson laughing beneath me as I pleasure her, being surrounded by her, and suddenly I want that. I have to broach a few topics today that are going to set her off like a nuclear missile, but eventually she’ll come to see I only want what’s best for her.

And what’s best for her is being with me.


Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset