Chapter 15 – Comply

 

Addy –

I inhale deeply.

“What are you talking about?”

He looks at me, his body flush with mine. With his hand buried in my hair, he tips my head farther, looking deep in my eyes. “When we’re like this, you and me, I want you to give you to me.”

Confused, I insist, “I’m here aren’t I?”

“No, Addison.” His voice dips and his deep dark eyes flare. “I want you completely.”

“I don’t understand.”

His hands start to roam my body as he gently tugs, untucking my blouse. “You were wrestling me this morning.”

“I was not.” I slap his hand away, because now he’s pissing me off. I was only doing what I wanted, he was the one who made it wrestling.

“You were,” he keeps on, ignoring my slap. “I want you to let go, let me handle it, and when we’re like this, comply.”

Wait. What?

Comply?

“Comply?” My body goes stiff and I manage to stop his hands this time. I’m even able to push him back a step.

“Comply,” he confirms.

My eyes go big, because I cannot believe what I think I’m hearing. Shocked, I keep asking for details. “Do you mean…submit?”

The side of his mouth tips, giving me a hint of the dimple. “Now you’re just getting technical, baby.”

I put my hand up, palm to him and say firmly, “I’ve read about that shit and I am not a submissive.”

His brows rise, the full dimple appearing when he replies, “Oh, I know you’re not.”

“Then what are you asking?”

He takes my hands in his, closing the distance I managed to create. Ever so gently, he pulls my hands behind my back, closing in on me. Holding me tight in this weird hug where it’s clear he’s proving I can’t move—my heart picks up speed.

“I’m asking you to try,” he whispers. “Try and give me that control when we’re right here. When it’s you and me and I’ve got you bared. I can take care of you, Addison, but you’ve got to hand it over. Let me take over.”

My breath comes quick and my nipples harden listening to him speak so softly, so gently, about something so foreign. I don’t understand it or why he wants it.

“Do you,” I pause, searching for the words since I’ve never talked about this before with anyone. “Do you want to hurt me?”

He shakes his head. “Trust me—I don’t have to hurt you to make you feel good. Later, you want to explore and add some kink, we can talk about that. Even then, I’d never hurt you.”

Well, shit. For some reason I believe that, down to my bones. Oddly enough, tingles slither over my skin just thinking about this. I’ve worked hard to keep my mind in control all these years. I don’t think I can turn that off.

Still, it makes me crazy he’s asked me to trust him. Again. It’s getting old.

“How many times have you asked me to trust you?” I spout, if for no other reason than to change the subject.

He tips his head and I see a smile in his eyes. “How many times are you gonna make me ask you?”

With my arms still pinned, I slowly shake my head and close my eyes. Letting my face plant in his chest, I mumble, “This isn’t me.”

He transfers my hands into one of his, holding firm when the other comes to my face. “It can be. I’ll show you.”

His touch on my face disappears, moving down, nimbly unbuttoning my blouse. I drop my head, barely catching a glimpse of his large hand working the delicate buttons before my lids drop. Trying to breathe deep to control myself, I do my best to get it together.

He releases my hands at the same time I feel a wisp of material falling down my arms. My skin is heated, but the silk brushing across my skin gives me goosebumps. I open my eyes when his fingers unbuttoned my pants. My room is silent and the air around us is thick. When he pulls on my zipper, it breaks through the quiet like a freight train.

Followed by my very audible exhale.

Bringing my hands up to his abs, I fist his shirt. “Crew?”

“Shh,” he tries to quiet me with his lips on top of my head.

I ignore him. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

His chin, with new scruff, grazes across my temple. He hasn’t shaved since he took me to the White House dinner. Even though it’s still short, I like it and it feels even better.

He bows his head, putting his lips to my ear at the same time my slacks fall to the floor. “You can. I’ll prove it to you.”

I pull on his shirt, trying to bury my face in his chest. At that same instant, my bra goes slack and his fingertips scarcely drift over the bare skin of my back.

Holy shit, how can a barely-there touch feel more intimate than anything I’ve ever experienced?

He pulls away and slides my bra down my arms with his eyes on his task. Never looking up, he bends a little to reach my now very wet panties. Hardly touching me, he hooks a finger into both hips and pushes until gravity takes over, dropping them at my feet.

Now my breath is shallow. I’m no prude, but no one’s made such an event of undressing me before. Especially when he’s standing in front of me fully clothed, down to his clompy boots. It’s all I can do not to cover myself. I’m not inexperienced in the least, I am thirty-one. He’s not even the first man to take my clothes off. He is the first to do it so gently and methodically, it would appear he had all the time in the world.

Crew’s not even pretending to make me feel comfortable. His eyes are moving over me slowly. It’s all I can do to stand still in front of him and I have to squeeze my legs together, looking for a bit of relief. I’ve never been turned on like I am now. I’m sure my nipples could cut glass.

“Fuck,” he mutters. His eyes finally meeting mine. “Didn’t think it was possible to want you more, but I do. Worth every fucking minute of ten years.”

Then his arm comes up and reaches over the back of his head. I lose his eyes for a mere second while he rips his t-shirt off and tosses it to the floor. My eyes immediately lower when he reaches for the button of his jeans. He lowers his zipper but stops when he reaches in, adjusting the very large bulge in his pants.

That’s when I hear, “Turn around.”

I look up, surprised, thinking he was about to join me in my birthday suit. Finding it rather awkward standing here totally naked, I clumsily try to cross my arms and frown at his directive.

He tips his head and gives me half a smirk.

Lowering his voice, he tries again. “Turn around.”

I roll my eyes, making him narrow his. Then, for some reason unbeknownst to everything I am—or everything I thought I was—I kick my pants and panties to the side and turn. I do, however, peek at him over my shoulder to see what he’s going to do next.

He shakes his head as he steps forward, his chiseled chest warming my back. I feel his hands, low on my hips, wander up my sides when he states, “You’re not used to takin’ it slow.”

I breathe out quickly and don’t answer. He should’ve figured that out this morning.

“It’s gonna be good in every way between us, baby. But after this morning, I want to give you something different.” His hands glide on me light and easy. “And I want you to let go.”

His hands separate on my front, barely stroking my nipple and stomach. I think his idea of slow is going to be my idea of torture.

All of a sudden, he grabs my hips, lifting me. “Knees to the bed.”

Startled, I yelp. My knees come to the edge and he quickly steps in between my calves that are thrusting out behind me. His hand at my stomach pulls me back against his chest. I feel the scruff of his jaw at my temple this time where he presses his lips. With one arm locked around me, his other hand is stroking the inside of my thigh.

“Spread your legs.”

Oh my.

I inch my knees out.

“Addison.” My name comes out as a warning.

I inch farther.

His hand comes up the front of my thigh to cup me firmly between my legs.

“Mmm,” I mew.

“Baby. Farther.”

I spread, as far as I can. I’m open and exposed, desperate for his touch.

His arms constrict around me as his fingers barely tease. I grab hold of him as my heart starts to race when I realize there’s no way I can close my legs. As much as I squeeze my thighs, it’s to no avail. I’m cemented.

“Crew?” I call for him, my voice clipped as I try to calm myself.

His fingers shift to my breast, twisting my nipple, making me exhale. It’s the most he’s given me since he stripped me bare.

His gravelly voice vibrates down my back where he holds me tight to his chest. “Yeah?”

Instinctively, my body is desperate to shift, to turn, to do something. At the same time, I crave his touch in a way that’s foreign to me. Leaning my head back on his shoulder, I whisper, “I can’t move.”

His lips meet the area below my ear, his whiskers scratching my sensitive skin. I feel his tongue dart out tasting me, sending tingles down my spine.

I thought those tingles were intense until his lips come to my ear where his next two words reduce me to mush.

“I know.”

Oh. Well, then.

Shit.

“Grab hold of me.”

I do, desperate to hold on to something. This pushes my breasts out and he takes advantage, working my nipple, massaging, groping. His hands are rough, callused, and abrasive. I knew he worked on his property, but now I feel it on my sensitive skin. And I love it.

His fingers glide over my clit, but it’s not enough. The only thing I can do is arch my back, searching for more.

“You see?” His lips come back to my ear, pulling my hair through his scruff. “When I have you like this, you can let go.”

His hand reaches farther and he slides a finger inside.

“Just you and me.”

He squeezes my breast as he replaces one finger with two.

“You don’t have to pretend. Hide. Be someone you’re not.”

I say nothing, but turn my head, pressing my forehead in his neck. This is too much, his touch, his words. His fingers keep on, in and out, his thumb circling my clit.

“You’re what I get. After ten years of doin’ what I needed to do, I settle next door to you.”

My breath is coming in short pants—I don’t have goosebumps anymore. I’m warmed all over. He’s giving me just enough to keep it at bay, my orgasm close, yet nowhere near. I’m heated, rocking against his hand, searching for more as his words cut through me.

“You hand over that control—you don’t have to be anyone but you. You don’t need it. I can give you back to you. With me, baby, you can be Abby.”

I whimper at the sound of my real name, pressing my face tighter into his neck. Even in my frenzied state, my eyes well.

“My Abby,” he whispers into the top of my head.

“Crew,” I call for him. My voice chokes with a sob and I don’t know what I want more, to cry or for him to let me orgasm.

He presses harder on my clit, finger fucking me more vigorously than before.

“Just you and me, Abby.”

I arch, pressing my head into his neck and shoulder. It’s never been like this before. Ever. I hang on at the same time I search for it, because I’m pretty sure it’s going to wreck me.

His arm across my chest turns to a band of steel, holding me steady when he gives me what I want. What I need. What I’ve never had before.

He was right. I’ve never had it slow. I’ve never had it focused on me, and I’ve absolutely never let go.

But I can do that for Crew.

Because after only a week, he’s proven he’ll make everything safe for me.

He gives me more pressure on my clit, and I was right. He has the power to wreck me.

I was gone.

My body shook, powerfully and violently, but he held me tight. I couldn’t move my legs and I couldn’t bend forward. There was no stopping it until he allowed. I whimpered, I screamed, I gasped for air. The whole time, he held me steady.

Finally, when he took me to a place I’d never been, I vaguely felt his hold loosen. I was up, cradled in his arms before feeling the bed at my back.

Trying to catch my breath and lift my heavy lids, I hear a tear. When I’m finally able to force my eyes open, he’s over me. I look down and he’s forced his jeans down just enough to roll a condom on. His cock is big, bigger than I’ve ever had, and I want it. I want it more than anything.

“I promise to get creative with you, but after that, I doubt you have the energy for anything else,” he says, giving me a hint of the dimple. “That was fucking spectacular.”

I can attest to the fact it was spectacular. But I want him, especially while my body’s still humming. “Please, Crew.”

Coming over me, he takes my hands and raises them above my head. Holding my wrists firmly in one of his, the other plays between my legs keeping me primed. “You want me?”

“I do,” I breathe desperately. “Now.”

His forearm comes down beside my head and he takes my mouth, kissing me as he gives me his weight. When I pull on my arms, his hold tightens. I do the only thing I can do and lift my legs, wrapping one around his waist and the other over his ass. Gripping him with my legs, I press my hips up, looking for him.

He lifts and I feel the tip of him at my core. He rocks, pressing into me, stretching me. He’s perfect, making me want more.

“Yes,” I exhale.

“Can you take all of me, baby?”

“Every inch, please.”

He pulls out a little and pushes in farther. He does it again, faster, and farther still. More, and it’s better than ever.

“Abby.” My name seeps from his mouth, strained, his soft breath on my lips.

His eyes sear into mine, and my tears from earlier slide down my temples. I mean it to my bones when I say, “Thank you for giving that to me.”

His eyes close and his forehead rests on mine. Then he really starts to move and I get all of him. He is big and it feels better than ever, but really, it’s him and all he’s given me.

I spread my legs more and he drives into me faster. He hits that perfect spot inside where it’s just as good, even though it’s different.

“Harder,” I plead.

“You gonna come for me again?” he asks, breathless.

I don’t answer, but plead desperately, “I want to touch you.”

He immediately gives me what I want, releasing my wrists. My hands go to his face, his shoulders, his back, reaching down for his rock hard ass that I couldn’t wait to touch again. His skin is heated, every muscle rippling under my fingers.

I feel it coming. “Yes, more.”

He gives it to me harder while he takes. When I fall over the edge, I hear him groan, pressing into me deeper with two last powerful thrusts. His breathing next to my ear is heavy, proving he’s spent, and I hope that means I gave him just a little bit of what I got.

Leaning back to look at me, his eyes are sated and warm. But it’s his words that cut me to the core.

“Worth every minute of ten years. Never thought I’d say this, but I’d do it all again if I knew you were waiting for me at the end.”

“Crew.”

“My Abby,” he murmurs before kissing me.

And those were the last words I heard before falling asleep in his arms later that night. Words that were nothing but a dream and a hushed secret in the back of my brain for most of my life.

It was Crew’s way of giving back a little of what I’d lost twenty-five years ago.

It was beautiful.