Beauty in the Broken - Page 91

“That sex is allowed in prison.”

“That’s true. Husbands and boyfriends get to sleep with their partners, and prostitutes are brought in for the rest. Doesn’t mean I hooked up with anyone.”

“Why wouldn’t you? Six years is a long time.”

Tracing her stubborn chin, I give her the truth. “I was waiting for someone special.”

She looks away again. “I’m not special.”

Gripping her chin, I force her to face me. “I waited six years for you, Lina. Six long fucking years.”

Uncertainty plays in her eyes as she searches mine. “Why?”

“I always get what I want, especially when someone tells me I can’t have it.”

“Ah.” She nods. “It’s the chase.”

“The chase and so much more.”

She doesn’t ask about the more. Thank God. I don’t know if I can explain it, if I want to explain it. How does one put obsession in words? How do I look her in the eyes and confess that I’ll hunt her to the end of her days? I’ll never set her free from our vows, and maybe it’s better I don’t admit that, right now. Maybe it’s better I don’t spell out another truth. One is enough for tonight. It’s not like she doesn’t know this is her prison. All I can say to make it better, is, “I’ll give you everything in my power to make you happy.”

Biting her lip, she considers the statement. It’s not new. I made it not so long ago. I meant it then and I mean it now.

“Just give me this, Lina. I’m not asking for more.”

“Give you what?” she asks softly.

“Take what I’m offering. Try to be happy.”

She stares at me for a long time. Just when I think she’s going to turn me away, she drags her fingers through my hair and pulls me down. The kiss knocks me sideways. I anticipated more resistance, more fighting the attraction, but she takes what I offer and gives me her mouth. She hikes up her skirt and wraps her sex-drenched thighs around me, grinding her pussy on my dick and making me crazy. Bracing my palms next to her face, I hold back as much as I can. The moment is too sweet. I will not bulldoze over it with my overeager cock.

I give her space when she reaches for my belt. I let her take out my cock and pump it in her fist until I hiss. I support her ass when she slides her pussy over the length of my rock-hard shaft. I take nothing more than what she gives. I let her ride me, go with her rhythm, and let her chase her own release. I watch as she rubs her clit and obliges when she tells me to move. I drive a little deeper, a little harder, and watch her come.

It’s raw and beautiful. It’s fragile. It’s our pact, our give and take, although I’m not sure who’s on the giving or receiving end. It’s entangled—our limbs, our tongues, our breaths, our pleasure. Our vows. For as long as I live, I’ll strive to make her happy. All she has to do is stay. She belongs to me. It’s inevitable. It has always been a given.

Spearing my fingers through the roots of her hair, I pull back her head and force her to focus. “Don’t try to escape, Lina. Ever.” My cock is still buried deep inside her. We haven’t caught our breaths yet, but a dark force drives me to say this, to be sure she understands. “I’ll always find you.”

Soberly, she stares at me. “How does our story go when you find me?”

“I’ll make you pay, and then I’ll make you happy.”

Like a vicious circle. Like an infinity sign. No beginning, no end. Just me chasing, me catching, and me pleasing. As long as it takes. I’m committed to forever.

She lowers one leg to find her footing. My cock slips from her pussy and cum runs down the inside of her thigh over the dried traces of earlier. Her hair is a mess, and her dress is stained. Mascara is smeared under her eyes. Her lips are swollen from my kisses, and her neck is red from my stubble. It’ll take more than a brush and a tube of lipstick to hide what we’ve done.

“I have to get back to our guests,” I say with more regret than she’ll ever know. “Want to come?”

I already know what her answer will be, but it’s important that I give her a choice. Small freedoms are integral in the absence of a big freedom. It keeps a person sane. Ask me. I know that from prison. It’s the books, the laptop, the correspondence degree, and the freedom of plotting my revenge that kept me whole.

She shakes her head.

“I’ll try to get rid of them quickly,” I promise.

“Take your time. I’m going for a shower.”

Tags: Charmaine Pauls Erotic
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