Moth to a Flame

12. CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER TWELVE

Landon

I’ve been waiting to wake Regan up for as long as I could. Looked up at the light filtering through the windows in her apartment as the sun came up in the sky. Hugged her close, watched her curled up against mine, and stroked her hair for long minutes.

Maybe hours.

I’ve heard Mojo’s claws tapping in the hallway and Rosemary laughing as she called to him, “Wait up, I can’t run this fast.”

Still, Regan hasn’t stirred.

The world outside this room slowly wakes up and I don’t care. I’ve been busy memorizing everything about Regan.

The three faded beauty spots on her arm. Her dark eyelashes that fan on her cheeks. Her sweet breaths. The chipped black nails that match mine.

All of her, really.

And throughout this entire time, I’ve been hard. My cock is thick, precum wetting the tip. Sometime during the night, I lost my boxer briefs.

My heart pounds with the need to be balls deep inside Regan and never leave.

Who am I kidding?

Fucking or no fucking.

I am never leaving her.

She reacts to my touch even in her sleep. Such a good girl, lying on her back for me as I crawl down her body. I take off her panties and spread her legs, my dick jerking at the sight of her. Pink and bare. She shaved for me, though I don’t mind either way.

This woman is beautiful. Perfect. Nothing could ever change that.

Nothing could make me love her any less.

Fuck. I do. I love her.

And fuck again, because the taste of her cunt goes straight to my head. Down to my balls.

Though we established that I have free use pass, I won’t fuck her. When I finally fuck her, it’ll be when I can stick around. When I can hug her and settle her after taking her by force.

After showing her I’m the only one.

Like I told her, her rapist didn’t exist. I’ll remove him from this world, slowly, painfully. Then I’ll spend the rest of my life erasing him from her memory.

“Mmm…” The sounds of her pleasure will never get old.

I’m addicted, and I want more.

I will have more.

She’s wet when I shove one finger inside her. I curl it as I eat her out, rubbing in that spot that has more of her juices soaking my finger.

The throbbing in my cock is maddening. I need the friction, lowering myself to the bed. I Moan as I rock my hips into it, as I inhale the scent of her pussy and fuck her mattress.

“Landon.” Large brown eyes flutter open, finding me down there between her thick thighs. She’s not fully awake, but she recognizes me. “So good. So good. I dreamed about you doing this and”— moan —“now this. More, please. Don’t stop. More.”

She’s soaked and the sounds her wetness makes when I finger-fuck her have me rutting harder into her bed.

“Hands on your tits.” Her hesitance is so adorable. And I won’t have it. Not today. “Pinch your nipples. You want it to hurt, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Both her nipples are pink and hard. She rolls them between her fingers, her back arching and her eyes never leaving mine. “Oh God.”

“Landon.” I tease her with the tip of my tongue on her clit, sucking her, and lifting my head. “You pray for me. When you’re this wet, this soaked.” When I add a third finger, I feel it. I goddamn feel her swelling, and if she squirts on me, I could die right here and now. The happiest man to have ever lived. “You say my name. I’m the one you beg for.”

“Landon. Oh, please.” Her nipples are red with how much she’s tugging and pinching herself. “Please, I can’t take it. I need you. I need you, please.”

“That’s a good girl.” My lips are on her clit, and she gasps. Moans. Squeezes her thighs while I force pleasure onto her.

With each thrust of my fingers, her walls swell more. Her mumbles are incoherent, and she leaves her nipples to grip my hair, pulling me closer to her. I lick and fuck her with my fingers until it happens.

Regan orgasms and squirts at the same time, spilling herself all over my face. I keep licking and drinking her in even when she realizes what’s happened.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m so sorry. Oh crap. No. That’s humiliating.” Her voice is small. Her pussy still pulses around me as I stretch out her orgasm. “Landon, stop. I’m so sorry. I’m—Oh my God.”

“Don’t you dare take this away from me,” I groan, pressing my hand on her navel and keeping her there. Right there where I can have her. “You’re so hot. So sweet. And this?”

I lower my lips to the drenched spot on the bed, flatten my tongue and lick her up to her clit. She moans and blushes everywhere. It blooms on her chest, her neck, her cheeks.

“I’ve been dying for this.”

Her eyes widen. “You have?”

She shudders when I kiss her clit. I move up her body and shove her hand to my hard length. Grab her cheek as her fist fucks me so goddamn well.

“Regan. I found that spot.” I suck on her bottom lip, bucking my hips into her touch. “It was hot. You have such a hot pussy, you know that?”

At my dirty words, she squeezes me. Spreading my precum on the tip of my cock.

But her mouth. Her plump lips. That sweet tongue. That’s what I need.

“You have such a tight cunt. You taste…” I climb up her body. Shove my hand between her and the pillow and grab the back of her head, guiding her to my cock. “I can still taste you. So fucking sweet. Suck me.”

This is what torment feels like. Her tongue teasing the head of my cock, fingers holding the base tight. When she fills her mouth with spit, lubing my throbbing length, any shred of sanity that I might have left is being ripped from me.

“You were fucking my face like such. A. Good. Girl.” With every word, I push her deeper. I hit the back of her throat, then use her while tears prickle in the corners of her eyes. “Look at me. Lick. Suck. Fucking gag on me. Just like that. You’re beautiful. My filthy girl. Daddy’s slut.”

She moans at the last part, at the degrading word. I only last a few minutes after that before I pull out.

“Eyes closed.” My voice is strained, and the second it takes her to lower her eyelids is too long. When she does, I come on her sweet, innocent face. There’s so much of it, painting every inch of her white. “Yes, yes, fuck, Regan. Look at you. Fucking look at you, letting me ruin you like this. God, you’re perfect.”

When I’m done, she licks her lips, smiling at me. “Mmm.”

“You did so well.” I kiss her forehead, carrying her to the shower with me.

I wash her clean and Regan lets me tend to her like I’ve never tended to anyone else before her.

Everything pales in comparison to Regan.

The drive to Brinestone was dull, despite the audiobook I was listening to.

Going through the prison’s metal detector, then security screening was equally boring.

Yeah, nothing about what happened over the last ten minutes was anywhere near legal. No one was following protocol when they let me through with a man’s severed toe packed in my leather satchel.

The guard who patted me down didn’t so much as pull out the pocket knife I brought with me for protection. Het let it slide.

They all pretended there was nothing beneath my black windbreaker jacket or my jeans that I changed into at home.

Fucking predictable. I almost laughed at the whole thing.

What’s not as yawn-inducing, however, is this moment.

“I’m not doing this.” Bobby, the uglier, younger, and bald version of his brother, crosses his arms over his chest. The orange jumpsuit clings to his bulky muscles, and his brown eyes narrow. “Not to him, not to anyone here.”

“Yes, you are.” I slide my hand into my bag, closing my fingers around the plain cardboard box. Only Regan gets the velvet ones. “Want to know why, you rapist motherfucker?”

Same narrowed eyes dart to the guard at the corner of the empty visiting area. It’s way past visiting hours, but money and a call from eight-toes Tripp to the warden took care of this problem.

Hence why the lady guard looks out the window at the gray light of the early afternoon. She’s not here to enforce the rules. She’s here, in this room with the concrete floor and round tables, to protect me.

I don’t need anyone to babysit me. I let her stick around anyway.

“Not interested in hearing it. I won’t do it.” He cocks an eyebrow that’s sliced down the middle. The scar looks new. He’ll have plenty of those by the time he’s out of here. “Unless you’re into wasting your breath, man. In that case, go right the fuck ahead.”

I’m not, in fact, into wasting my breath.

The echo of my box slamming against the table makes Bobby jump. The guard cuts a glance our way, and I answer her with a lift of my chin in a mind-your-business gesture.

She does, giving us the view of her back and her tightly pulled blonde hair.

With a finger on the top of the box, I slide it over to Bobby. “Open it.”

A faint, unpleasant odor rises between us since I got rid of the ice pack earlier. I wanted his brother’s toe to stink, for the threat to seem more real.

He eyes the box like there’s a snake in it. Doesn’t stop glaring at it when he whispers, “You can’t make me.”

“Open. It.” Though I’m not raising my voice, the severe quality of it has the same effect.

Bobby reaches toward it, his fingers trembling. Inch by inch, he lifts the lid and there it is. The look of acknowledgment. The horror flashing behind his eyes.

Yet he can’t turn away from it. Can’t seem to release the lid and hide the toe that clearly belonged to his brother.

I don’t have to explain anything. Birthmarks don’t lie.

“Is he alive?” His voice shakes.

“Yes.” Slowly, I drag the box toward me, shoving it back into my bag. “So are your parents. For the time being.”

“Fuck them.” The change in his demeanor is swift. “They haven’t visited me once. There’s only so much the warden can do for me here. I’m not risking my life for anyone.”

I go in for the kill. “Your 1969 Plymouth is safe too. It’ll stay that way unless I say so.”

At that, his face turns from red to purple in a matter of seconds. “You leave her out of this.”

My eyes go to his clenched fists on the table. I’m not impressed. When I lift my gaze to him, I show him just how bored I am with his little tantrum.

“You take Lester motherfucking Burkes’s penis out of commission, and I won’t have to do a damn thing.” Both my hands are splayed on the table. I lean forward, staring down at the piece of trash in front of me. “I’m expecting a confirmation in twenty-four hours. A photo. But please, twist my arm if you don’t believe me. Test me, and you’ll get your own set of photos.”

“Why me?” he whispers in defeat.

Because of your brother and his sick affinity to bleach. Because he demanded my Regan to suffer through his torture and remain scarred for the rest of her life. Because he put my platform to bad use.

Because he had his eyes on my Regan.

“Your brother bored me with the same question.”

He shifts in his chair. “No one will talk to me after that. They might not hurt me, but not having anyone to talk to is a nightmare.”

“Not my problem.” Fuck if I care about his miserable existence. “My problem is Lester. Your problem is me. You see where I’m going with this?”

He nods. I leave with a smirk on my face.

Justice tastes as sweet as Regan’s cunt, and I’m the lucky son of a bitch who gets to have them both.