Hell Fires (Age-Gap Romance)
What the hell did they do to you, Maverick with the black hole in his soul?
I’d never before felt so protective of anyone. He was a walking wound, a chasm of pain. I wanted our love making to be healing, but he was closed off and conditioned not to show his true feelings.
“Sophie, I’m going to come,” he told me, pleading.
In a swift move, he rolled me again so that he was on top and back in control again. He fucked me harder, the headboard hit the wall with each unbridled thrust. I could feel a ball of energy building in me with a low roar I knew would come crashing down if he withdrew. I wrapped my legs tighter around him and he pounded into oblivion. But not so much so that he forgot my pleasure. I noted the wandering hand and the rogue fingers that searched out my clit and applied gentle pressure as he bore down on me, his engorged erection on the brink and my emotions gushing like a deluge in spring.
When I came, I saw stars. I exploded onto his cock and bit his lip as I screamed his name into his mouth. Before I’d fallen all the way down the hill, Maverick came too, in short hot bursts that never seemed to stop. When the aftershocks finally stilled, he kissed me ruthlessly, brutalizing my mouth with his sad kind of love. He apologized with hot kisses and salty tears which I wasn’t sure to whom they belonged.
“Sophie, forgive me,” he whispered into my temple.
“Do I still get to keep my job?” I asked him. I was genuinely curious. I didn’t know how to process what had happened between us, but I knew I needed to pay my rent or I’d be in a Brook Hill tent myself in a matter of weeks.
“Oh God. Jesus, please tell me you didn’t do that because you thought I would fire you?” he said. I couldn’t physically see his face, but I could conjure it in my mind’s eye. The anguish, the stern line of his jaw on the precipice of collapse. “I think I might die if this isn’t mutual,” he said. He wasn’t being melodramatic, he was breaking down right in front of me.
“What the hell did they do to you?” I asked him.
“Sophie, I don’t do one night stands. I don’t have casual sex. I don’t take a woman’s virginity without consulting first and a sensible healthy plan!”
I thought I should be the one having a meltdown, but I felt good. I felt strong and capable and surprisingly untainted by losing my virginity to someone I’d just met. All because it was Maverick. He felt right. He fit. I thought it was meant to be.
I splayed my body over Maverick’s protectively and kissed him.
“It was only ever yours to take. We were meant to be. Don’t you think so?” The idea of attempting to lose my virginity to anyone else was preposterous to me. Maverick was the one who stroked the match, who lit the fire and fanned the flames.
“I’m not going away, Sophie. I don’t walk away from the real thing. I’ll make you mine in every way I know how and I’ll take down anyone who even so much looks at you the wrong way,” he said fiercely. His heart pounded in his chest and his breathing came fast, as a peal of rumbling thunder sounded off in the distance.
A storm was coming and Shakespeare whined and pranced at the door.
We made love again, more slowly as bolts of lightning lit up the room and crashes of thunder sounded in between our gasps and fervent cries.
The entire night was our love moon, a bloody battle waged between his soul and mine. I showed him I could let down my guard and he showed me his deepest battle scars. Love glowed like a life force inside that dark room.
When I woke up in the morning, I was naked and bruised. The sunlight poured in through my windows like an unwelcome wedding crasher.
“Maverick?” I called out.
There was silence.
Then I heard the clip clop of Shakespeare’s paws as he trotted to me across the hardwood floor.
The only other sound was the sad chirps of the Brook Hill birds as all the zombies woke up and returned to the prowl.
Chapter 7
MAVERICK
When dawn crept in, I climbed out of her bed like a coward. It tore me up to see her lying there, breathing peacefully, her long lashes casting shadows on her pale cheeks.
I was attracted to vulnerability and that attraction made my stomach turn. It also made me hate myself. I put my clothes on in her living room while the dog licked my hands. All he could detect was her scent all over me and it made him docile.