Page 54 of Expressionate
I pull my face away and then slide two fingers into her pussy. Hot. Wet. Wanting and needy. Just like I like it. I stand, releasing her hand, and Love reaches up to grip one of the shelves as I unbuckle my belt. "Are you ready, Lovely?" Iask.
"Yes," she says quietly. "Please Tax. Canyou..."
I pause, cock in one hand, my other on her lower back. "What do you need?" I ask. All she has to do is ask and I'll give it to her. I don't know, exactly, why here, or why now, but something happened, and she needs this – that much Idoknow.
"It's dark," she says, her voice trembling. Her spine may be soft, her ass may be pressed out, but she's still shaking. "I just need you to talk to me. Because you're here. I need to know it's you." She sounds ashamed, like she might be in tears. My heart fucking breaks for this girl. What could fucking make her feel likethis?
"Yeah." I cough once, the guttural sound of my voice rough. "I’ve got you,Lovely."
I circle her entrance again, this time with my cock and I lean over, pressing my lips near her ear. "Put your hands up higher on the shelves," I whisper. "Push your ass out, Lovely. You want me inside you, don'tyou?"
"Yes, I—" She chokes off when I slaminside.
"Fuck." I hiss through gritted teeth, my fingers closing around her curves. "You feel so fucking good, Love. Like you were fucking made for my cock. Do you feel like that? Do you feel like my cock was made for you too? I bet you do. I bet this is the best cock you've ever felt, huh?" I pull back and pound backinside.
She squeaks. I can vaguely make out – through the low light from the cracks in the door – the grip of her fingers on the shelves and how they tighten. "And this pussy," I start again, reaching around with one hand to finger her little clit. She gasps. "This pussy is the sweetest—" I pull back out. "Fucking—" I flick her clit and relish the sound of her stuttering breath "—pussy—” I thrust back inside, eliciting a cry from her throat. “I've ever had,” I finish, meaning every single word. Shemoans.
"Shhh, Lovely," I say, "you don't want anyone to hear you, doyou?"
I run my finger up and down her pussy as I fuck her from behind. "Tax." I close my eyes and sink into her even deeper. With my name on her lips, her wetness on my cock, I'm not gonna last. But I can't go off without her. I pinch her clit between my thumb and forefinger, praying this works as I pull out and thrust into her again and again, until the slap of her ass and my hips clap in the pantingsilence.
"I –fuck– Tax!" She comes hard on my cock, and I skyrocket into my own orgasm, releasing her clit and re-gripping her hips. She'll likely wear bruises tomorrow. It makes me a bastard, but I think I'll like knowing that I marked her and that she enjoyed it, because as I fuck myself into her and into another orgasm, I know she does. She cries out again and then we're both sagging against theshelves.
"Lovely," I whisper, pulling her up and brushing the damp curls around her temples to the side as I kiss herneck.
She whimpers and this time it doesn't sound blissful. I pull back, slipping out of her, and even with her pants still halfway down her legs, Love turns and buries her face in my chest, hands fisting my shirt. I'm shocked, but instead of pulling away and asking questions, I merely yank her closer and rub my palms up and down herback.
In the darkness of Sarge's pantry, I listen to people laughing somewhere on the other side of the house as the girl in my arms trembles and cries against my chest. Though I would rather slay a motherfucking dragon with my own bare hands than feel her tears burn hot trails across my skin when she presses her nose to the column of my throat, seeking comfort, I'll stay. I'll stay because she's mine and, even though I'm fucked up, I'm herstoo.
After the fuck in the pantry, I bundle Love up, helping her pull the skirt of her dress down and underwear back up, then hurry her out to my Jeep. Blake steps out onto the porch as I close her door, a cigarette in his hand. The flame of his lighter burns bright and he inhales his nicotine fix as I approach the stairs. “Hey,” I call out, “tell Sarge we’re heading out. I’m taking Loveback.”
Blake glances toward the Jeep. “Somethinghappen?”
I shake my head. “I don’tknow.”
He blows out a breath and a wave of smoke flits up into the night. “She’s good for you, you know,” he says quietly. “Just don’t fuck it up,man.”
I shift on the stairs, propping my hip against the side banister. “Iwon’t.”
Blake never takes his eyes away from the Jeep. “You know, she’s got her own demons too. I suspect that’s why you’re taking her home. Somethingdidhappen.”
Subconsciously, I wonder if it’s me. If I set her off. But if that were true, why would she ask me to fuck her? I rub the back of my neck and stare at the rotting wood of the third step. Then something occurs to me. How would he know? I turn and look over my shoulder, but Love is sitting with her face turned away in the passenger side of the Jeep. I look back at Blake and narrow myeyes.
“Don’t,” he says, blowing out another cloud of smoke. “Whatever you’re thinking, man, don’t. She doesn’t need that shit from you rightnow.”
“How do you know something’s up?” I demand,lowly.
He sighs, dropping the cigarette to the porch before stepping on the cherry red end with his boot. “Did I ever tell you about the time I spent down in Georgia?” heasks.
I blink, confused, before shaking my head. His lips twist. “Good – don’t ever ask about it. Just know, when it comes to her, I get it. I get her issues. I get it because I see it in myself.” He turns to go back inside. I reach out, nearly catching the back of his shirt. He must feel the air behind him shift, because Blake pauses, but he doesn’t look back and my hand falls back to myside.
“Don’t you fucking judge her,” he says quietly. If I didn’t know this fucker so well – know him well enough to know he’d never beg for anything in his life – I’d say… but no. He can’t be. I don’t have a chance to ask or even respond because in the next instant, Blake’s yanking open the front door and disappearing inside, and I’m left feeling like a fucking yawning pit just opened up in my stomach as I look back at Love. What the fuck do Ido?
Shaking my head, I step off the porch stairs and head back to the Jeep, hopping into the driver’s side and cranking the ignition. Love doesn’t speak the entire drive back to the apartments. She doesn’t protest when I park the car, walk around and unbuckle her. It satisfies something inside of me when I lift her into my arms and she goes willingly. I like the feeling of her weight on mymuscles.
I carry her into the building and to the elevator, and hold her while we slowly ascend to our floor. When we get out, I don’t take her home. I head for my own door and quietly, like we’ve done it a thousand times, she reaches for my pocket, retrieving my keys, and unlocks the front door. I don’t set her down until we get to mybedroom.
“Do you need anything?” I ask as I lay her gently on my side of the bed. She can have it. Hell, she can have everything I own as long as she takes something because if she does then that means shecares.
