Beautiful Mistake

“Did something happen to your scar?”

She smiled. “It’s not a scar. It’s just a cut that healed. The real scars are the ones you can’t see—those are the hardest to heal.”

Lifting the dressing, I had no words, seeing what she had done. I could no longer see the long scar that had marred her beautiful skin. It was covered by a tattoo of an angel.

“That’s you,” she said. “I’d buried so much so I wouldn’t have to deal with old emotions. Everything coming out now wasn’t easy, but I finally feel like I’m on the other side of those memories. They’ll always be there, but I can see them in the rearview mirror now instead of in front of me.”

I was so choked up, my voice croaked when I spoke. “It’s beautiful. Just like you.”

“I can keep the bandage off now. The guy at the tattoo parlor told me to leave it on for up to eight hours. I just got it done today.”

Rachel turned back around to face me. Her tits were so damn full and perky, I couldn’t help but be distracted by them.

“Caine?”

“Huh?” My eyes lifted back to meet hers.

She looked amused. “There’s just one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I can’t lie on my back.”

“That’s not a problem, Feisty. I can think of a lot of ways to be inside you without you being on your back.”

I leaned down and scooped her into my arms. Cradling her, I walked to the bedroom.

“Tell me, do you want to ride me, be on all fours, bend over the footboard, or spoon fuck? Or maybe you’d just rather sit on my face?”

I set Rachel down on the edge of the bed, removed her shorts and panties, and began to shed my own clothes. When I got down to my boxer briefs, I hooked my fingers in the sides and looked at her as I pulled them down. My cock was painfully hard.

“What’s your pleasure, sweetheart? Which one are you in the mood for?”

Rachel licked her lips. “I have to pick just one?”

I stepped out of my boxers and stroked myself a few times. “No, babe, you’re picking the first position. We’re going to do them all. Tomorrow you’re going to be so sore, it will hurt when you sit down in class. And I’m going to watch you sit and know exactly why you’re squirming in your seat. Then I’m going to have a hard-on for the entire class. Pick one so we can start making you sore.”

“Ride you. I want to ride you.”

Her face was so sexy with that impish smile. I climbed up on the bed, settling my back against the headboard, and lifted her onto my thighs. I wanted to watch her face while she took my cock into her body.

“Are you wet?” I slipped my fingers between her legs and found her completely soaked.

She nodded.

Gripping my cock, I held it near the base. “Take it. Nice and slow. I want to watch it disappear inside your pussy.”

Rachel lifted onto her knees, placing her hands on my shoulders for balance, and hovered over the glistening crown of my cock. I had the strongest urge to thrust up and bury myself deep inside her, but I didn’t. She wanted to ride me, and I wanted to give her anything she wanted.

“Christ,” I groaned as she began to lower herself onto my cock. She was so tight and hot. I was captivated by the sight of her pussy sucking me inside. It had only been a few weeks since we were last together, but I was starving for her like it had been years.

She lifted up and down a few times, easing me farther and farther in until she was seated with me fully inside, her ass pressed against my balls. When she started to gyrate her hips, I pressed my thumb to her clit and rubbed small circles, while I grabbed hold of her ponytail with the other.

“Ride me, Feisty. Ride me hard.”

She moaned, so I yanked a little harder. With her head back, her magnificent tits were right at my eye level. I watched them bouncing up and down, taking my eyes off only long enough to lean forward and suck a nipple into my mouth—one and then the other. Rachel’s speed increased—bobbing up and down, lifting halfway off my cock and taking me back in with a rhythm that was so fucking perfect. Just fucking perfect.

Whimpering, she began to lose steam as her orgasm took hold. I grabbed her hips and took over where she’d left off, thrusting up into her from underneath while she met me with whatever she had left. The tight squeeze of her pussy and her moaning my name over and over as she came undone had me thrusting harder and harder until my name was barely a whisper from her lips. I swallowed every last one of those moans in a kiss. Then I buried myself as deep as I possibly could and came long and hard inside of her.

“I love you, Rachel Martin,” I mumbled against her lips.

“I love you, too, Caine West.”

We stayed like that for a long time, her sitting on my lap, me caressing her face.

I just couldn’t get over the way things had turned out. I was awestruck by her beauty, inside and out—and by the way fate had brought us back together again.

“What? You’re looking at me funny,” she said.

“It’s just so crazy how many years this has been in the making, how we found our way back to each other.”

Rachel smiled and tilted her head. “You know you’re the reason we met again, right?”

“I think Professor Clarence dying had something to do with it.”

“Maybe. But if it weren’t for you, I might not have even discovered the power of music for therapy. All those years ago, you gave me your headphones and told me to listen to music—to concentrate on the words whenever I was upset. I listened, and it really helped. That’s how I really got into music.”

I thought back. “I did give you headphones, didn’t I?”

“You did. You know I wrote you a letter the morning everything happened. Well, not you, but fake-priest you.”

“Oh yeah? Did you get to bring it to the church?”

“No. I don’t even know what happened to it. Got thrown out when we went to live with my aunt and uncle, I guess.”

“What did it say?”

“I don’t remember exactly. But I know I thanked you for talking to me every week.”

“I went back on Saturdays for a month just in case you came back. It felt like something was missing each time I went and you weren’t there.”

“There was. A little piece of your heart.” She smiled. “I kept it and brought it back to you.”