33. The Protector
“You have a little something right there.” I point at the side of her mouth, smeared with purple fruit jam, as she sits at our humble wooden kitchen table, eating breakfast. She is wearing one of my loose shirts and a pair of sweatpants I got her at an underground salvage fair, and she looks stunning and comfortable. She could make rags look like fine clothing. She’s so beautiful.
The urge to slip my tongue out and lick that spot right off her face almost causes me to move closer to her. I clench my hands tightly at my sides and force myself to remain where I am. She’s not mine. She’s my charge, and I can’t just do shit like that, no matter how much I want to. No matter how much my body hums with a need for her, every moment of the day, and every sleepless minute of the night. I’m her fucking guard, tasked with keeping her safe, even if it’s from myself.
She’s a sinful temptation that I need to stay away from. A priceless jewel not meant for a lowly man like me. She’s meant for a prince of the Brotherhood, some spoiled fucking brat who will never know her worth. A fucker who will never realize the fire and true strength that she hides within herself, and never appreciates the beauty that she is, and not just surface deep. I refuse to take advantage of her innocence, and be another villain in her story. She has had enough of those already.
She raises her fingers to her beautiful, pale face but doesn’t reach the spot. Her look of embarrassment is endearing, and I watch, captivated, as a shy pink stain flushes across her high cheekbones. She bites down on that plump bottom lip, her teeth worrying at it, which has a recurring role in all my naughty dreams about her.
Fuck, I can feel my cock hardening in my pants, I need to calm my shit down, this can’t happen. I’m a grown-ass man with responsibilities, and I can’t just give in to my urges. I turn my body away from her, before I shock her with how much she turns me on. I grab a dish towel from the counter behind me and throw it on the table next to her.
Instead of wiping at her face, as I had intended when I gave her the cloth, the little temptress rises gracefully from the table with it clasped in her delicate fingers, and moves slowly toward me. Her dark gray eyes, with specks of moonlight blue, never leave mine, as she straightens her spine, and a determined look crosses her features.
Uh-oh, that’s never a good sign when she gets that look in her eyes. It usually means she’s going to convince me to do something we both know we shouldn’t, and is most likely forbidden. Like most recently, when she decided she wanted to learn how to use a bow and arrow, and track prey through the woods like a hunter. I can’t say I was shocked at that request; my little Dinah never ceases to amaze me.
“What, are you scared of me now, Sammy? You can’t help a lady wipe her face?” Her mischievous eyes tease me with their playfulness, and for a moment, I am so proud of how she can still be so alive and vibrant, with everything she has already suffered in her short life.
Dinah at nineteen is something amazing to behold. She’s outgrown the cuteness and innocence of her youth, and the seasons of her womanhood have made purchase, and are beginning to bloom. I am a lucky bastard who gets to witness the transformation and her coming into her own. That teasing light seems to grow brighter as she makes her way to me, the edge of the cloth swaying in her grip.
Fuck. My throat becomes parched at the seductive way she moves, unable to rip my eyes away from her, or even do what I know is required of me. Right now, I should be turning away from her, shrugging this all off as her being a brat, and wanting an experience. Rather than the need I think I see within the depths of those eyes, which are my favorite colors. She gives off a combination of sin, innocence, and sexual tension, and it makes the air thick and tense around us.
I can’t help myself, though. I want to see how much courage she has, and how far she’s willing to take this game, even though I know I should be running away from her. I should be attempting to save my own sanity, because only madness lies in that direction.
She’s not mine, and she can never be mine. I’m not worthy to have her. I repeat the daily mantra to keep myself away from her, and my restraint intact. The struggle becomes more impossible every single day I’m alone with her.
I’ve seen her watching me lately, those eyes I can’t resist tracking my movements. I know she fancies herself in lust with me, but it’s nothing but a crush. That of a young woman towards the only man who has been present in her life for the last few years. It means nothing, right?
For four tumultuous years, I have watched her grow stronger, braver, and flourish in her captivity. Four years of teaching her everything I know, and building up her resilience and skills, so that she can survive in this horrific world we live in. Four years of preparing myself to lose her, when they tear her from this house and rip out my heart.
The Brotherhood doesn’t understand what they did by giving her to me to protect. They ensured unknowingly that my allegiance would transfer from them, and only be to her, with all the years I have spent by her side. The only mercy that the Brotherhood could have ever shown her and me, and they didn’t even plan it. They placed us together, two broken souls who have managed to find comfort in each other’s company.
She doesn’t realize it, but Dinah Camrose has helped to heal something within me that she didn’t break. She is the only light in my world. In fact, she is my whole world, and once they come and claim her, I will be left in darkness again. My heart, which now only beats for her, will stop and crumble once she is gone. The thoughts bring me nothing but misery and remind me that, in this world, I am nothing, and could never reach high enough to be worthy of someone like her. Perfection, that is what she is, what she will always be to me.
“No, little minx. You can get it all on your own, you’re a grown-up now. We both know you don’t need me.” She stops before me, so close that the heat coming off her body sears into mine, making me have to bite down on the inside of my cheek and swallow a moan as her scent invades my nose. Fuck, she always smells sweet, earthy, and smokey to me. She smells like home and paradise, all wrapped into one, and I would love nothing more than to drown in her scent, but I can’t. It wouldn’t be right.
Her hand rises, the dish towel still hanging from her fingers, and she places the palms of both hands on my body. One directly over my thundering heart, and the other just above my belly button, which has me clenching my abs tightly at the feel of the weight of her palm against me. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What is she doing?
“What if I don’t want to do it all on my own? What… if I need… some… help?” She stares up at me from lashes sitting at half-mast, and swipes her tongue along her bottom lip. My breathing picks up with every word that leaves her pretty mouth, as I observe her eyes growing larger and her pupils dilating.
If I didn’t know I was a twenty-nine-year-old man, hardened from the war and battle-scarred, I would think I was nothing but a teenager about to fall at this girl’s feet, with how nervous she was making me. My body heats with a light sheen of perspiration, even as the sound of my blood rushes in my ears, as I try to convince my body to behave. My fingers ache to caress her, and feel her soft and silky hair flow through them. I clench my hands tightly into fists to stop myself from giving in to the urge.
I bend forward, towering over her, allowing my breath to slide across her face. I position my lips just an inch away from the shell of her ear, careful not to actually touch her, while sparks fly between us. “We don’t always get what we want, Dinah.”
Her fingers dig into my skin, and the heat coming off her scorches me, even through the fabric layer between us. I remain utterly still as she processes my words, believing that at any second, she will step back and stop this perilous game. Instead, she surprises the hell out of me, and her hand slides lower, gracing my abs and stopping at the button of my pants. She leans forward until her lips press against the shirt covering my chest, right smack in the middle, my large body trembling with her touch.
“We should, though. Life is too short, Sammy, to deny ourselves some of life’s pleasures, especially when we are forced to live in a world filled with misery.”
She mumbles the words into my chest, and they go straight down to my cock, which is now straining against the zipper of my pants. Her palm inches slowly lower and rubs against my rigid length, causing a groan to leave my lips that I bury into her hair.
Fuck! I need to stop this right now. I need to pull away from her. This is dangerous. Even as I think the thoughts, I do nothing but thrust into her palm, and listen to the hitch in her breath at my actions. That sound is sexy as hell. I wonder if she would make it again, if I wrapped my fingers around her throat and squeezed.
Her fingers tighten around my cock, stroking me tentatively through the fabric, and my head tips back on my neck, allowing myself a moment of pleasure at her touch. Her other hand slips below the hem of my shirt and glides against my heated flesh, causing goosebumps to rise on the back of my neck and arms, and my nipples to pebble. Her touch is innocent and unsure, as if she’s trying desperately not to make a mistake. All it does is make me want her more.
“Dinah, we… should… stop.” The words slip from my lips even as I trail one of my hands along her back to her delicate neck, and I dig my fingers into the edge of her thick, dark hair. A sexy whimper leaves her lips, and I’m a fucking goner as she slips her fingers down my pants, and they stroke over the crown of my weeping cock. Flesh meeting warm flesh that rips a groan from my lips. My eyes threaten to roll back in my head as my body tightens. It’s been so long since someone touched me. It’s been so long since my cock was touched by anyone but myself. Fuck, this feels so good.
“I don’t want to stop, Sammy. I want you to make me feel… alive. I want you to… fuck me.” Her words are whispered close to my chest, yet it’s as if they were shouted in the quiet room, only filled with our rapid breaths. They cycle on repeat in my lust-filled brain, causing me to forget myself as I grab one of her asscheeks and squeeze, pushing her further into my body as I leave small open-mouthed kisses along the crown of her hair.
Fuck, so soft, yet firm, a perfect handful. I’ve been dreaming about touching this ass for a year. I’ve been fantasizing about holding her in my arms since she turned eighteen, and I feared that they would come and take her from me, so she could become a Sacred Wife to some entitled prick. A year of watching her bite her lip, and the perfect round globes of her breasts straining underneath the fabric of the shirts she steals from me. A year of wanting and knowing that she could never be mine.
“We can’t, Dinah. It’s forbidden, you know that. You are to be someone’s Sacred Wife. You need to be pure for the Brotherhood.” Even as the words fill me with devastation, she only clings tighter to me. Her small hand encircles my hard cock and squeezes my length in her slim fingers.
“Don’t take this away from me, from us, please, Sammy. I… I need to know that I was… loved once. I need you. It will always be you… even if they take me from you.”
My fingers in her hair coerce her head back until she’s craning her neck, a small gasp leaving her, as I force her to stare up at me with those gorgeous eyes that have my breath halting in my throat. The need and sincerity of her words are written on her face, right alongside the desire that is encompassing both of us in this dangerous moment in time.
“Please…”
Her one word is my breaking point, shattering my resistance to something I have wanted more than my next breath, more than life itself. My mouth descends on hers, sucking on her lips, and probing so that she opens for me. A moan rumbles from her chest as I slip my tongue inside her mouth, stroking and intertwining us, her sweet mouth still tasting of fruity jam and sin.
I kiss her like my life depends on it, because, at this moment, it might as well be forfeit with what I have just done, and plan to do. I will never be able to go back to the way things were. I succumb head-first to the overpowering need for her. This moment will be seared into my mind forever, and although it’s all kinds of wrong, I can’t stop. This vicious need for her that I have kept leashed tightly all this time, has finally snapped at the restraints that kept it confined and in check. There will be no going back to what we were before this moment. She wants me to make her mine, and I have never wanted anything more.
Her hand strokes me inside my pants, the other one reaching between us and undoing my button and pulling down my zipper, even as my palm slips down our bodies to the band of the loose sweatpants she’s wearing, until my fingers are brushing up against her panties that are soaked with her arousal.
Bloody fucking hell, she’s going to be the death of me. My pants slip down from my waist, followed by my boxers, to pool at my ankles, as her fingers timidly explore my long, hard cock. Her touch is light and unconfident, as she coats her fingers in my precum, stroking me from base to tip with wonder sparkling in her eyes.
I pull her panties to the side, letting my fingers graze along the soft flesh of her pussy lips that are slick to my touch. My middle finger finds her swollen nub and begins to rub circles against it, ripping a gasp from her lips, and causing her to tighten her hold of my dick. I need to touch her everywhere, to feel her soft, warm skin pressed against mine. If I only get this one chance to be with her, I want to make sure I imprint myself into her mind, heart, and body, as she will forever hold a place in mine.
I kick off my shoes and step out of my pants, slipping my hand back out of her sweats, much to her dismay, if the cry that escapes her mouth is saying anything. My hands grasp her just below her asscheeks, and encourage her to jump and wrap those toned legs of hers around my waist. She doesn’t hesitate, wrapping tightly around me. Her pussy positioned against the tip of cock as she rubs herself back and forth, almost makes my knees give out, as I move us out of the kitchen and toward my room.
“If you don’t want this to end quickly, I need you to stop doing that,” I moan into the side of her neck, as I push my shoulder into my door and move past into my room, until we reach my bed. How many nights have I laid here, dreaming about her? Dreaming that she would be wrapped around me like she is at the moment.
“I ache, Sammy.” She moves restlessly in my grasp, the heat of her pussy calling to me through the barrier of her clothing, as she lays warm kisses along the length of my neck.
Goddammit, I am going to cum like a schoolboy getting to second base, before I can even slip my cock inside of her and claim her as mine forever. The thought of breaking through her hymen, permanently ensuring that no one else gets to be her first, almost undoes me.
“Baby, I am going to make you feel so good. I need you to release me so I can undress you.” She doesn’t hesitate as I lay her on my navy sheets, her hair fanning around her, and her chest rising quickly with her panting breath. She grabs the hem of the shirt she’s wearing and rips it over her head, tossing it in a corner before slipping her hands to the waistband of the pants, and dragging them and her panties down her slim legs.
My eyes almost cross with pleasure as they get their first look at her glistening pink pussy with neatly trimmed dark hair. She closes her legs tightly, whether suddenly self-conscious or to give herself some friction, I don’t know, but I won’t have it. I plan to feast on her, and I want to see every single delectable inch. I rip my shirt over my head, exposing my chest, tattoos, and scars to her. I halt my movements to gather whether I repulse her. Some of my scars are ragged and gruesome from the frontlines of the war. Her eyes trace over every inch of me and finally center back on my cock, where she suddenly gets a terrified look in her eyes.
“Umm, yeah… that’s not going… to fit inside of me.”
A chuckle releases from my mouth, all the tension breaking between us, and I wrap my fist around my cock and stroke it while she watches. “It will, beautiful. Trust me. You were made for me.”
I slide to my knees next to the bed and yank her by her ankle to the edge, forcing her legs to open wide so I can see the most intimate part of her. My hand softly travels along the length of the calf and to her thigh as she trembles before me. My mouth follows the path my hand just took until I reach the apex of where her thighs meet her pussy. I suck the skin hard, leaving a red mark, before using my teeth to lightly bite down, testing her pain tolerance.
“Fuck, Sammy!” A screech leaves her lips, followed by a hearty moan. A smile breaks along my mouth, pulling on my facial scar as I press my lips against her skin. She’s so responsive to my touch, and pain doesn’t seem to scare her. I let the thought make its way to the back of my mind for later. I’m going to enjoy teaching her about how pain can make her feel good.
I use my fingers to slide through her slit, opening her up and teasing her before my mouth makes contact with her slickness, and I get my first taste of nirvana. My tongue rolls against her small, hard clit, and a scream rents the air as she tries to close her legs, clamping them against my head, and caging me against her pussy. I suck and lick, using my fingers to tease her until she’s a writhing mess on the bed and her pussy is soaked. The spot below her on my sheets is proof of how aroused she is.
My eyes slide up the pale perfection of her body, and I wonder to myself if she would let me tattoo her beautiful skin. At this point, we are committing so many sins against the Brotherhood, so what are a few more? I watch with rapt attention as her hands make their way to her breasts, and she kneads them, pulling on her nipples until the peaks are stiff and distended.
Little mewling sounds leave her mouth, as her eyes remain closed and her jaw slackens. I observe the muscles in her abdomen tightening, and her legs clenching. She’s so close. A little more, and she’ll explode, and I want it to be with my mouth on her so I can drink up every last drop.
My tongue slips inside of her tight hole as my thumb rubs circles over her needy clit, and she almost jumps off the bed. I use my heavy hand to hold her down by her stomach and get to work devouring her. I lick, and suck, and fuck her, with my tongue as deep as I can go. When she is incoherent, and I can feel her core clenching, I slip one of my fingers inside of her, followed by a second, fingering her in hard and fast thrusts, as I lash her clit with my tongue. She detonates with a scream, clinging to my sheets for dear life, and her cum soaks my face, dripping down my chin and letting me know I am the luckiest son of a bitch alive right now.
When she’s finally coming down from her orgasm, and her breathing isn’t as harsh, I grab her by the waist and move her to the middle of the bed, before pushing her thighs wide so that I can lay in the cradle of her legs. My cock slides between her drenched pussy lips, coating me in her wetness before I align the engorged crown with her entrance.
I thread my other hand with hers and stare down at the beautiful woman who is my whole life, and push in barely an inch. Her body squirms at the invasion, her heat encompassing me even as her body tries to push me back out. “Sa… mmm… yyy,” she moans.
“I love you, Dinah Camrose. I always have and always will, and from this moment, you belong to me. No one will ever take you from me.”
I’m yanked from my dream as something slams down against my ribs, causing immense pain to travel through my abdomen, and forcing me to choke on my breath.
“Wakey, wakey, motherfucker. You’ve spent too much time in Lala Land. It’s time to bleed again.” My eyes clear, and I see the ugly face of gorilla number one glaring malignantly at me from above, and holding a pry bar.
Fuck, it was just a dream, and I am still stuck here in this hell without her. I wish I had died surrounded by her warmth, and in the memory of the first time I got to spend inside of her. The moment I branded her as mine forever.
I don’t know how much more I can take of this abuse. I’ve lost count of how many days it’s been, since I found out that she was still alive and Noah kidnapped me. I’m going to die here, locked up in this torture chamber while Noah’s gorillas beat me to death.
I’m almost out of hope. Where are you, Dinah? I can’t hold on for much longer.