Chapter Fifteen Ro #2
“Believe me, I do.” Viking grimaces, and the two share a laugh as Gambit hands me a black helmet. I place the metal on my head, strap it around my chin, and climb onto the back of the bike.
I wrap my arms around his waist. Viking walks away, and I tighten my hold.
“Benoit?”
“Wasn’t a good day, Rowan. I need you.”
My heart leaps. “Anything,” I answer breathlessly.
“I might have disturbed someone’s resting place. And I’ve felt off ever since.”
I squint up at him. “And by resting place you mean?”
“Their grave,” he mumbles, lowering his head.
“And disturbed it how?” I roll my hand to get him to give me more information.
“Fought on top of it.” His shoulders slump.
“Jesus.” I exhale. “You know better than that.”
“It wasn’t an intentional thing—.”
“Come on, let’s figure out the closest spiritual shop.”
“Hold on tight.” He takes off, and I press my body to his, soaking up the lingering heat from his body. I rest my head against his back and mold myself to him. The wind blows my hair back, and I breathe him in.
He needed help, and he came to you. There’s still trust you can build on.
As he takes a curve and I allow my body to mimic his, I know there’s no other choice.
After so many years of simply existing, I feel alive and at home.
Leaning my head back, I let the winds of freedom wash over me.
Here I can simply exist. I’m safe, protected, and not responsible for anything.
It’s been so long since I had even a moment of that.
I know Betti is being taken care of, and the distance is good. It allows us both to think on what we want the future to hold without being influenced. I know we have an unhealthy codependence, but given our upbringing, who could blame us?
We pull up in front of a tiny white building that looks more like a house than a store. He pulls into the small blacktop lot, and I hop off, taking in the prayer ribbons that hang from a large oak in the center of the yard.
Gambit finishes backing his bike in and joins me. “Will this do?”
“We’ll make it work. I still can’t believe you’d disrespect the dead like this.” Back home we take offense to those who’ve gone before us very seriously.
“I was trying not to get my ass kicked at the time. He was way younger than me.”
I giggle. “Come on, we’ll do an offering.” I rake my gaze over his body. “And a cleansing.”
I wouldn’t call myself a practitioner per se, but most people in my neck of the woods know a little of something about spiritual hygiene and working the roots to make things happen. He grabs my hand, twining our fingers. I tamp down my urge to squeal and take it as a sign.
An hour later, I’m standing in front of Gambit, trying to focus on the task at hand, when he’s standing in nothing but a white towel with beads of water running down his bare chest. I lick my lips and admire the breadth of his chest and clutch the burning sage wand tight.
“Are you sure this is going to work?”
“For your sake, I sure hope so.”
“I used the cleansing soap.”
“Good, now let me smoke you off, and we’ll give the offering. It’d be better if we could go back to their resting place.” I frown.
He shakes his head. “Trust me, they’ll be patrolling that place non-stop tonight.”
“Did you at least get a name?” I light the sage, watching as the end catches. Letting it flame, I blow it off.
He shakes his head. “There wasn’t one, just a cross.”
Rising onto my tiptoes, I start at his crown and work my way down his body.
Gently blowing on the sage, I direct the smoke over his body.
His nipples harden. I stifle a groan. I want to wrap my tongue around them and explore the six pack, disappearing into the square of fabric I swear is shrinking by the second.
Kneeling, I move down his body. I watch the towel push out as his cock fills with blood.
Do not get distracted by the dick. I chant the words in my head as I finish cleaning him.
“Okay. Offering time.” Rising, I move to the setup on the nightstand.
I hand him a match. “I need you to light this, say your own personal message to them, in your head if you like, and let them know the food and water are for them.”
Nodding, he does as I ask, and I wait patiently. I feel the heaviness lingering around him lift and nod.
“I think it’s been accepted.”
Exhaling, he turns to me with a smile. “Yeah, I feel that. But I need something else.”
“Oh? What’s wrong?” I scan him, concerned.
“You.” He steps into my space, and I whimper.
“Yes.” Reaching up, I twine my fingers in his hair and nip at his bottom lip. He grunts, and I run my hand down his chest, mapping his body. His stiff nipples press against my flesh. I pinch them gently. He groans, and I pull back, breathing hard.
“I want to make you feel good.” I place my palm on his chest and back him toward the bed. He falls to the edge of the bed, and I climb into his lap. Grinding against his cock, I nip my way up his neck.
“I’ve been dreaming about this for years,” he admits.
“Shit.”
I scratch my nails down his chest, leaving a red streak behind. I want him to feel it and see I was here in the morning.
He grips my hips. “Do you think you’re in control here?” He chuckles.
“I am until you take it from me.” I roll my hips, and he hisses.
“Fucking temptress.” He smirks.
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.” I continue my rhythm, sucking his skin into my mouth. The salty taste is addictive. I work my way to his mouth. He thrusts his tongue into my mouth. I tangle mine with his. We wrestle for dominance, grinding together.
He pulls back. “You have too many clothes on.”
Gripping his hips, I lean back and rip the pale pink t-shirt over my head.
My black lace bra quickly follows. Pouncing, he sucks my breast into his mouth.
I arch, crying out. Rolling the opposite nipple between thick calloused fingers, the pull of his mouth becomes the pulse in my pussy.
Flooding between my legs, I soak my panties and pants.
Circling my hips, I ride his thick length. Releasing me with a pop, he switches to the other breast. Cupping my ass, he moves me back and forth, giving me more friction.
“Fuck, yes.” He hums. The vibration is an invisible thumb to my clit.
Reaching down between us, he pops the button on the top of my pants, pulls down my zipper, and wiggles his hand inside my panties.
His warm palm cups me. I jerk against him.
Teasing me with a massage, he increases my arousal without giving true relief.
“Please.”
“Please, what? I thought you were in control,” he teases, stilling.
“No,” I cry out with a jerk.
“You want more, baby?” He purrs.
I nod, panting as I wiggle, seeking more sensation.
“Like this?” He moves his hand, circling my clit.
Bracing my hands on his shoulders, I lean back, moving my hips in time to the song he’s playing with his long, elegant fingers.
“So pretty like this. All lit up with passion and begging me for more.” He pushes into my center, and I clamp down, mouth open in a silent scream.
“So slick and tight.” He circles my walls. “And mine. Isn’t that right?”
“All yours,” I agree.
He pulls out and pushes back in with a wet sound that I can’t bring myself to feel shame for. “You want to come, baby girl?”
“Yes.” I nod as the muscles in my belly tense, and the tension builds.
“Then ride my fingers. Help me stretch out that tight little cunt for my cock.”
“Oh, shit.” I flex around his fingers. He chuckles darkly.
“I’m going to ruin you.” He angles his fingers, and I find a clumsy pattern to get the most friction. “Look at you, so desperate to get what you want.” His tongue flicks my lips.
I suck it in, lost in the taste, feel, and sound of him. Slicking my tongue against his, I convey my want. Trembling, I approach the edge.
“That’s it. Get there.” He rasps.
My eyes drift shut.
“Look at me.”
My eyelids pop open, and I see the possessive expression in his beautiful brown eyes. The look tumbles me over the precipice. I break, shivering as I convulse, squeezing his fingers so hard I fear they might break.
Easing his hand free, he brings his fingers to his lips. I watch the glossy digits disappear between his full lips. He sucks them clean and licks his lips. Unhooking his towel, he’s suddenly beneath me, stripped down, and hard with want.
“You want me? You take me.”
I slip off his legs and shimmy down my pants and panties, kicking them free. Leaning down, I spit on his dick and pump him firmly. Twirling my tongue around his head, I gather the salty droplets while making eye contact.
“Fucking dirty girl.” He grips a handful of my hair.
I hum my agreement around him, and he twitches against my lips. I release him and climb into his lap. Angling his cock toward me, I ease down. His girth splits me in two, and I whimper.
“Relax, you can take me.” He circles my clit, “This pussy was made for me. I molded it.”
Nodding, I gulp. Aftershocks tighten my walls.
“So damn tight.”
Clutching his shoulders, I breathe through the burn, feeling remade. He circles my clit again, stirring the embers of heat burning in my belly. The pain begins to fade, and pleasure floods in.
“There you go.” He captured my lips in a gentle kiss. “You took me where I belong, deep inside you.”
Oh, fuck. I am never walking away from this willingly. Our eyes meet, and I rise and lower. Despite the desperation from earlier, this is a slow, thorough fuck. Bottoming out, he drives deep over and over. His cock hits all the nerves inside me that lite me up like a pinball machine.
“Is it safe for me to come inside you?” His hooded eyes nearly make me explode.
Nodding, I whine at the thought. “I have an implant and I’m clean.”
“Me too.”
“Let me feel you, Gambit. Please. I need it.”