Devil's Savior

CHAPTER 18

Being wrapped up in Crosby’s arms makes me feel cherished. It makes me feel whole. And it’s sending tingles everywhere he’s touching. It’s like nothing I’ve felt with anyone else, and I find myself trusting it more and more.

His closeness makes it difficult to concentrate on the movie. I want him and my body is trying to urge me to give in to my desires.

When I glance up at him, his jaw is clenched, and his eyes are fixed on the television. Still, I get the feeling he’s not really here with me.

The thought makes me frown.

Crosby has always been very present when he’s with me, but that’s not the case today. I’ve told myself that it’s because of the stress the club is under right now. They took on a lot of responsibility when they rescued those girls and woman.

I know it, but I would hope that he could leave that behind him when he’s at home with me. That’s probably an unfair thought. How can you leave something like what he witnessed behind him.

It would be selfish for me to want him to.

My role here is to be his support and sounding board when he needs me. I don’t need to question him or put unfair expectations on him.

When I stroke my hand down his arm, Crosby’s dark eyes leave the screen and meet my gaze. His eyes are glazed over like he’s thinking about something a million miles away, but his focus slowly returns.

I hate seeing the lost look on his face. He’s trying to hide it, but I see him. I know this man’s soul and he’s hurting.

My voice is soft, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” he grunts gruffly.

Before I can say anything else, or push him to share with me, his rough hands grab me. His touch is gentle, but there’s a feral quality in his eyes that begs me to give into him. He needs me to submit to him and I’m going to give him exactly what he needs.

He positions me until I’m straddled over his thighs and his hands ghost over the curves of my hips and up underneath his shirt which I’m practically swimming in. I’m not wearing a bra and his calloused palms abrade against my skin as he cups my tits firmly.

I arch my back when he pinches my hardened nipples and a moan slips from my mouth. Any time he touches me, it’s bliss. I sink into the feeling of his hands on me and forget everything else.

When I open my eyes, he’s staring at me intently, no longer far away, no longer lost in the darkness. I can do that for him. I can bring him home.

It makes me feel powerful and important. I revel in the sensation as I start to move my hips to grind down against him.

His cock is hard, and I swear I can feel every vein and ridge through the thin pajama pants he’s wearing and my barely there shorts I slipped on when I changed after work. His eyes darken as his cock starts to pulse. My pussy responds by clenching around nothing as we continue to stare into each other’s eyes.

The connection between us demands it. It begs to be given flight. Who are we to ignore it?

As I close the distance between us and our lips meet, Crosby lets out a sound of contentment that has my pussy flooding with wetness.

“I need you, Sioux,” he whispers against my lips.

The sound I make is one of needy desperation and beautiful surrender. When he kisses me, it’s so much more than just a kiss. He devours my mouth like he’s just as starved for the connection between us as I am.

Maybe he is.

I can also taste his sadness on his tongue as he explores my mouth. With my arms wrapped around his neck, I deepen the kiss because I want to chase that sadness away. I want to replace it with passion. With love.

“I’m yours,” I gasp as I pull back from him.

His eyes are intense as we both pant and catch our breath. When he licks his bottom lip, the beast inside of him collecting more of my taste to feed him, my eyes almost roll back with how fucking hot it is.

Crosby’s muscles bunch as he lets go of my tits and slides his hands around my torso. It feels like he’s readying for something, and I cock my head to the side.

“What are you doing?”

He blinks at me and flashes me a smile that doesn’t quite reach the depths of his eyes. “I’m going to pick you up and carry you to bed.”

My lips curl up into a naughty smile before I grip the hem of the shirt I’m wearing. I whip it off my body quickly and my tits bounce with the movement. “I don’t see why we need to go to bed. I can ride you right here and help you forget about everything troubling you,” I offer him.

His eyes widen slightly but then he lets out a primal sound that’s between a growl and a needy groan which has my nipples tightening into painfully hard peaks. When he dives for my chest, I slide my hands up my body until they’re cupping my breasts and presenting them to him.

My man does not waste time. He sucks one of my nipples into his mouth and my hips jolt against the hard ridge of his cock still trapped in his pajama pants.

There is nothing like foreplay with my man, but the realty is that I’m already primed and about a second away from going off like a rocket. It doesn’t take much when I’m with Crosby.

That should be surprising, but it’s not. Everything with him is so much more and that includes the way he can make my body feel like no one else ever has.

When he bites down on my nipple, I cry out, a slight admonishment in my tone, “Fuck, Crosby.”

His large hand slaps my ass and I wiggle down against his hips, my skin flushing and heating at the contact. When he does it again, the moan I let out is loud and on the verge of embarrassing.

He pops off my nipple, leaving it glistening with his saliva and throbbing from the attention he’s focused on it. I want more. My other nipple is practically begging for the same treatment.

His voice is gruff and demanding, “You like it when I slap your pretty little ass, Firefly?”

“Crosby,” I gasp, something in his eyes telling me we’ll be sliding along a knife’s edge tonight. I want it. “I love it,” I admit and grind down against him harder.

One second I’m sitting on my man’s lap and then the next my back hits the couch and Crosby is looming over me. His hands are almost frantic as he strips my shorts and panties off me, both going flying over his shoulder as his hungry eyes move over my body.

Then I’m moving again. I gasp at the feeling of being manhandled. I should hate it. Probably.

But I don’t.

I love it.

With a shove, he pushes his pants down just far enough to free his hard cock which is smearing pre-cum against the skin of his abs. I lick my lips and my mouth waters as more beads form on the tip of his cock.

As much as I want to slide down his length and ride him until we’re both breathless and twitching from a soul shattering orgasm, there’s a burning need to taste him. I slide from his lap until I’m on my knees between his legs.

His dark eyes have a dangerous gleam in them, but he doesn’t scare me. He never has.

“You want me to fuck your pretty mouth, Sioux?” I moan with his dirty words and press my thighs together to try and relieve some of the tension. His fingers caress my throat and he muses, “I wonder how much of me you can take down your throat.”

“Let’s find out,” I rasp, the need to please him riding me hard.

As I swipe my tongue across the head of his cock to collect his pre-cum, he lets out a grunt a pleasure. His pupils are blown out wide as he stares down at me and his hand wraps around my throat. His touch is surprisingly gentle with how on edge he seems to be.

The way he holds my life in his hands turns me on and I suck the tip of his dick into my mouth and caress it with my tongue. His head falls back onto his shoulders as his hips punch upward.

But he doesn’t get deeper into my mouth as I move with him, anticipating his movements and teasing him at the same time. I watch him, unable to tear my eyes away from his face. Being able to read the emotions on his face, the need and the desire he has for me, make me wetter for him.

“Stop teasing me,” he grits out through his teeth, the muscles of his neck straining as his fingers flex around my throat.

When he bucks his hips upward, I don’t move away from him this time. I take him to the back of my throat, sliding my tongue around his length and along one of the veins that runs on the underside of his shaft.

“Fuck,” he barks and if my mouth wasn’t full of his thick cock I would be grinning like a madwoman right now.

Since it is, I focus on making sure he feels as good as he deserves. My hand wraps around the base of his dick and I start to stroke in time with the movements of my mouth, twisting up toward the tip.

The rhythm I start is primal—drum beats on an ancient field in time with the pulse of the earth and the dancers who are always felt but never seen. His fingers tighten and loosen in time with my movements and the beating of our hearts.

His other hand grips my hair, the strands twisting and curling around his fingers as he begins to pump his hips. Every time he fills my mouth, I can feel him getting closer to the edge. Being on my knees for him has my head swimming and all my senses filled with him. The way his pre-cum coats my tongue with promises of more, makes me feel greedy.

“Fuck,” he growls, “I want to fill your belly with my cum.” I make a humming sound around him and he shudders as he fucks upward and pushes in deeper. My eyes water as I start to gag. There’s a second where he pushes even deeper and then he’s pulling out of my mouth completely. I suck in much needed air as he grips me underneath my arms and pulls me back up onto his lap. “But,” he studies my face and the way my cheeks are wet from tears, “I need to fill your sweet pussy even more.”

Before I’ve even fully gotten my bearings, he’s positioned me above the broad head of his dick and uses the grip he has on my hips to slam me downward as he bucks up. The way he fills me rips through me. It’s pleasure with an edge of pain and it makes me come instantly.

If my entire body, including my mind, wasn’t quacking in bliss, I would be awash in disbelief. That has never happened before.

“Sioux,” he groans, “that’s right, coat my cock in your sweet pussy juices.”

My mouth opens with a silent scream before I whimper, and my walls stop pulsing. As the fog lifts just enough, I open my eyes and stare into his dark depths. My fingers wrap around the bulk of his shoulders and my nails dig in.

“Fuck, Crosby,” my voice is high and tight, a mix of disbelief and a plea.

The smile on Crosby’s face is downright fucking scary, but it has me shivering in his arms as my pussy gets slicker for him. As if I wasn’t dripping already. His grip tightens on my hips and there is part of me hoping he leaves bruises behind as a reminder.

Our bodies move together, going faster and harder with every breath and beat of our hearts. It’s a frenzy of need.

Normally when Crosby touches me, there’s a soft gentleness behind it, but not tonight. If this is a punishment that he needs to dole out then I’m all for it.

“Gonna make you come again. Wanna feel you quake around me,” he grunts.

“Please. Need,” I gasp, but I don’t even know how to finish that sentence.

I start to move my hips, chasing something, chasing everything he’s offering me. I want more. Need it.

Chase.

More.

Chase.

More.

Every time I breathe the air is precious as my heart slams against the inside of my chest and it feels like it’ll break free at any moment. His eyes are steady as he watches me, and I can see how much it pleases him that I’m the one splintering apart and losing control for him.

“Seeing you fall apart for me is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he rasps.

I barely hear him as my hips move faster.

Chase.

More.

When he reaches between us and captures my clit between his thumb and forefinger, my thighs start to tremble. Since he no longer needs to grip my hips, my body taking over and taking just as much as I’m giving, his other hand grips my neck.

His muscles bunch with the strain of not hurting me, but I’m not worried.

As his fingers tighten and my head starts to buzz with the lack of blood flow, the only thing I can see or think about is this man. My man.

“Crosby,” my lips form the word, but I don’t know if he can hear me or not.

Does it matter?

With one pinch of my clit, I’m soaring through the clouds, going up and up before dipping down and then doing it all over again. Dark spots dance in my vision as Crosby growls, the sound vibrating through me and calling me back home as he releases my throat and holds me in place with his cock filling me completely.

As I pulse around him, I revel in the feeling of his cock kicking inside of me, jerking with every jet of cum he fills me with. It’s almost too much.

When I slump against his chest, his strong arms are there to hold me close and soothe me back to reality. It’s harsh after such an intense experience, but I know he’s got me.

Tears prick the backs of my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. Silence envelopes us and I can feel the way his cum slides out of me and coats the both of us.

Normally, I would not be okay with not using protection, but Crosby assured me he’s clean and I’m on birth control. If there was a doubt in my mind about this man, he would be wrapped up. But there is no doubt; not anymore.

I’m assaulted by a vision of Crosby cradling a baby in his arms, a warm smile on his lips and love in his eyes as he looks at me. Could I have the family I’ve always yearned for, even when I didn’t admit it out loud?

Being a mother has always appealed to me, but after being hurt so many times, it was a notion that I put away. Now it feels like it really is possible, and I sigh as I sink deeper into Crosby’s chest.

“Sioux,” his voice cracks and I look up at him. The way his eyes search my face before he lets out a harsh breath has me furrowing my eyebrows together. “You okay?”

“Better than okay,” my words are a little rough and slightly slurred, but they’re the damn truth.

“Good,” he pulls me against his chest, and I find myself lulled into that place between dreamland and reality by the warmth coming from him.

When he stands and lifts me up in his arms, I barely stir. It’s only when something wet slides between my thighs and against the sensitive folds of my pussy that my eyes pop open.

“Can do it,” I mumble, my eyelids feeling heavier.

Crosby shakes his head, his lips curved into a smile that reaches all of him this time. “I got you, Firefly,” he assures me.

I sigh as I sink back against the mattress and take solace in his words. Because I know he does.

He’s got me and I’ve got him.

Something nags at the back of my mind, and I remember the way he felt a million miles away earlier tonight. It doesn’t feel that way right now. Isn’t that enough?

Why do I still feel unsettled about the way he was acting earlier? My heart recoils at the thought, not wanting to be hurt again because of carelessness.

It’s happened too many times to me. Men have used me to get what they want from me and to build themselves up, but then they’ve tossed me aside.

But Crosby wouldn’t do that.

Right?

Even though my body is sated mush, my mind whirls and my sleep is restlessly filled with delusions of pain and heartbreak. It’s a prison of fear I can’t escape.

I want to trust Crosby. I love him.

But it’s hard to do when your heart and future is on the line. I don’t know if I can picture a future without him in it anymore.

He’s ruined me.

Let’s hope he doesn’t destroy me as well.