Twenty-Eight

 

Liv

 

I woke up the next morning with his tongue between my legs. I sucked in a breath, startled and already wet by the time I opened my eyes. The room was dark, cool and quiet. The only sounds were my breaths, coming faster as his mouth sucked gently at my clit. I quivered, shocked at the feeling, addicted already to the warmth of his tongue.

My hands found his head. I tugged at his hair, encouraging him to keep going. I lost myself in the darkness, his strong hands keeping me held down as he tasted me, enjoyed me, learned my sounds. He prolonged the sweet ecstasy, until I was bucking my hips, feverishly seeking that release.

“Remy,” I chanted again as I began to come, squeezing at his hair so hard, I was sure it pained him. The feeling was always better than the last. I tensed, unmoving, gasping as it took me over. It always felt long in the moment, but afterwards it was like it’d come and gone and I hadn’t savoured it enough. I wanted it back the second it died down.

As I lay there, gobsmacked, eyes glossed over, he crawled up my body and kissed me hard, settling himself between my legs. He didn’t let me recover like before. He was hard and straining and completely unapologetic as he pushed inside me without warning. I gasped at the fullness he delivered. My legs shook.

“Hold onto me,” he demanded. “I’m gonna go hard this time, babe.”

I wrapped my arms around him and braced myself.

He thrust into me, eyes glazed over, a look of pained pleasure on his face as he went. Deep. Hard. One angry thrust after another, like he couldn’t get deep enough. I couldn’t stop myself from moaning. I was dick drunk. Possessed by his ridiculously big cock. Unapologetic either as I encouraged him to go faster, telling him to, challenging him to let go.

He came inside me hard, but he didn’t stop moving. He thrusted repeatedly, watching me writhe beneath him until I came again. He swallowed my sounds, swallowed his name that I couldn’t seem to stop chanting like a prayer every time I got there.

We both lay on our backs, wide awake. He had a hand wrapped around my breast, held possessively, and it wasn’t going anywhere. My hand was on his lower stomach, lightly skimming at the tip of his poor dick. It stirred beneath my touch.

No words, yet again.

The whole day was spent wordless.

Clothes were provided. Food was delivered. There was no reason to leave the lodge. We were going to be here for one week straight and for a week straight he was going to fuck me nonstop. It was our honeymoon. We could get carried away.

 

 

“Do you miss where you grew up?” I wondered, curling into his side.

Equally buried in thought, his fingers ran up and down my spine. “No,” he answered. “I don’t miss that hellhole. Do you?”

“Sometimes.”

“What do you miss?”

I thought long and hard. “I miss feeling hope. I miss being ignorant. When I was small, my world was so big inside that apartment I used to live in. I didn’t know any better.”

“You’d stand at the window and wave at strangers, you said.”

“Yeah, they’d wave back.”

“Do you remember them, the people you waved to?”

I shrugged. “Some of them. There were regulars. They used to stand by the cross walk, waiting for their turn to cross the street to go to work or whatever, and they’d look up and wave hello.”

Remy let out a deep sigh. “I guess I miss some things too. Like riding my bike. Playing with Kieran. Taking care of my sister Rita. Being hugged by my mom. Even Brett before he ditched us for juvie.”

“Are any of them still in your life?”

“No,” he answered, his fingers pausing at my spine. “None of them. Not the way they used to be, anyway. It’s just me.”

I poked his ribs and he looked down at me. “And me,” I added, pointedly. “You know, the girl whose cherry you’ve popped. The girl you kidnapped to marry for reasons I’ll never understand.”

He chuckled. “And you.”

My chest warmed. Surely, he felt the ache between us. That sweet, sweet burn. It couldn’t have just been me. I was becoming entwined in him. I ached for him. For his touches and his looks.

I didn’t know how long I could keep my distance, or my emotions out of it. I’d already begun finding cracks in his walls. He was letting go – it was happening – but he was fighting it.

I wondered if this was going to be our biggest challenge of all.