Chapter 32
Lovelyn
Consciousness came and went as flashes of sensation. Cool air on my breasts where my t-shirt was long gone. Warm fingers stroking up my belly, words of admiration that worked through my haze.
A hot mouth. At first, on my nipples. One then the other. The edge of teeth teasing them into peaks. Then down to my belly rolls.
Kane buried his face in my soft skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Now I get to see all of ye, I can’t stop. I can’t get over your body. You’re incredible.”
A shiver ran over me that I couldn’t show, only feel.
I ached, inside and out. He’d fucked me once, leaving me sticky, but now he was playing with me, my hairbrush as a dildo while he loved on the rest of me.
Another moan fell from my lips. With Kane here, being doped up had changed from scary to wonderful. He’d protect me by any means necessary. He’d keep me safe, and if I was a lucky girl, fuck me again when I was too out of it to be wary.
Every touch on my flesh was bliss.
Every word of praise on my body I’d worried over showing him lit me up.
I wished my eyes would open again, but the heaviness of the meds kept me in the dark. It didn’t stop me feeling every lick and suck Kane delivered. A climax glimmered at the edge of my nerves, waiting to consume me, but Kane discarded the brush, leaving me empty.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got ye. I need to feel this on my dick.”
Baby again. I liked that so much.
Moving up the bed, he entered me, easier this time as I was so wet. Instead of fucking me hard, he drew his hips in a circle, stretching my entrance even more with his huge dick. The sensation was incredible, and I basked in feverish need I could do nothing to help.
His fingers returned to my clit, slow and steady. “Show me you can feel me. Come on my dick so I know I’m doing this right.”
My heart panged unexpectedly. Kane hadn’t explored sex beyond his kink. It felt like such a privilege to be the woman he tried with.
That emotional connection boosted my needy state, and pleasure abruptly broke over me in bright, brilliant waves. My core tightened around Kane’s dick, and he swore and held steady, inside me as hard as he could go.
“Good girl. I can feel every pulse of ye. So fucking good.”
He thrust in and out, prolonging my climax. Then a buzzing started.
“Found your sex toy.”
Silently, I gasped, the sedative protecting me from any embarrassment. The rounded end of it touched my clit. I’d just come, but the need rose fast inside me again.
Kane played with me, glancing it over my flesh from side to side.
“I want to leave my mark around the place, so I’m going to talk ye through this one.
Your orgasm nearly made me come a moment ago.
I’ll get ye there again then finish all over your toy.
So every time ye fuck yourself with it in future, I’ll be part of the game. ”
My insides tightened. Damn him for how hot that made me. He groaned and fucked me harder, the throbbing of the toy driving me crazy.
With my mouth open, I revelled in the incredible feelings he gave me, then hitched a breath as another climax stole my thoughts. Kane fucked me through it then pulled out, held my vibrator to my core, and growled out his orgasm. Cum lashed my skin, and I pictured it on the sex toy.
“Rubbing it in for good measure.” His tone was beyond satisfied.
My drawer opened and closed, the toy put away. I’d clean it, but he was right. I’d think of him every time I used it.
Kane hugged me then took a break to fetch water. He picked me up to sitting. “You’re going to swallow this, okay?”
He took a sip, then his lips landed on mine. Water drizzled from his mouth over my tongue. On instinct, I swallowed, his care so tender that emotion rushed through me. I hadn’t wanted to feel anything ever again, but this did something to my heart I couldn’t stop.
The next time he came, he did it from behind, gripping my breasts as he fell, shuddering on top of me.
I wanted bruises from him. I needed to feel him for days after and look in a mirror to see reminders on my body. I’d never felt so beautiful.
If I thought he was done, I was so wrong.
For hours, Kane played with me. He sucked marks onto my breasts and teased my nipples until they ached.
He made me come with his mouth alone, tongue-fucking me and lavishing attention on my clit.
He put his fingers inside me, stretching and working me until he threatened to slide his whole fist in, which had me coming again.
He arranged me how he wanted me, endless praise given on my body and how I made him feel. He played with my ass, touching me there while he fucked me and generating an orgasm from a different place.
There wasn’t an inch of me he didn’t worship with intensity.
Awake, I would’ve been shy, even alarmed at all he was doing. But semi-conscious-me had the excuse of my inability to comment or contribute.
I could do nothing but let him.
There was no other person I could’ve shared the experience with and trusted them to take care of me. Kane pushed limits I didn’t know I had, but his attention felt like a gift.
On the anniversary of the worst day of my life, he was giving me something else to focus on, and for that, I owed him everything.
At some point, his efforts slowed.
He slept with an arm over me, and finally, in blessed, happy relief, I too passed out.
When I woke, the drug had at last released me from its grip. Kane was a dead weight at my side, his breathing slow and steady, and daylight revealed something I hadn’t been able to see. He was hurt. A bloody gouge across the top of his shoulder.
I stared, alarmed but with other concerns mixing in. He’d been injured but had done nothing about it. Instead, the wounded gangster had driven for hours to reach me. That little fact made a home for itself in my heart.
I was also reasonably certain that if I touched him in any way, he’d wake. I wanted him to sleep for longer.
As carefully as I could, I slid from the bed and hid in my bathroom, showering the night from my skin. The bloodstains. Other evidence of him. It turned me on to touch my abraded flesh.
In the mirror, I admired the love bites and bruises on my chest and belly. Every part of me was well used, and the sedative was probably still in play because I only felt calm. No concern over him seeing me. I blow-dried my hair and put on makeup with a smile that had no right to exist today.
Maybe soon that would fade, but a girl could live in the moment.
Back in the bedroom, Kane stirred when I settled on the bed, a first-aid kit in my hands, and my silky dressing gown wrapped around my body.
He pushed up on an elbow, his gaze cautious.
I indicated to his shoulder. “That needs patching up.”
He took in the cut like he’d never seen it before, then slowly inclined his head, shifting to give me better access. From the kit, I found wipes and set about cleaning the wound.
“How did it happen?”
“I leapt onto the trafficker’s boat and didn’t see the gun until it was too late.”
I blinked and looked from his eyes back to the wound. “That’s from a bullet?”
“It’s only a graze. Just bled a lot.” He pulled a face at the mess on my bed. “I’ll buy ye new sheets.”
A shake of my head didn’t loosen my worry, but I continued with my task. Careful touches, not that he even flinched. “Was the mission a success?”
“We rescued two women. I’m pretty sure the traffickers croaked it, judging by Tyler’s style of rage-based takedown. There’s a hidden side to the guy I didn’t anticipate. But I got the fuck out of there so I could reach ye.”
Heat painted my cheeks. I daubed antiseptic onto his wound then found a butterfly bandage, pushing the sides of his cut together before sticking it down.
“If it starts bleeding again, we should get you stitched up properly. But also? Top marks on the boyfriend training. You came when I needed you, even if I didn’t ask. ”
“Last night, why did ye come here?”
That…was a conversation I couldn’t avoid. Not anymore.
Setting my expression to neutral, I climbed off the mattress and packed the kit away. “Go take a shower then meet me downstairs.”
I left him in the bedroom and fled, unsure whether he’d follow my instructions until I heard the water running. In the kitchen, with my hands shaking, I sat at the table in my usual place and waited.
A few minutes later, Kane joined me. He’d reclaimed the t-shirt I’d been using, his other being bloodied and torn, and paired that with his black jeans.
Ready to leave, perhaps.
Except my surprise stopped him dead.
I watched him understand the scene before him. The quiet room. The tension holding me tight. The urn in the centre of the table.
There was no mistaking the type of vessel that held human ashes.
Bigger than most other ornaments, classically shaped and unadorned with any frill.
The one I’d chosen for Mum was dark purple and had faint flowers around the lid, along with her name, Rose Wells, but otherwise was made in that serious, sober design that drew the eye.
For a long moment, while he didn’t move, I didn’t breathe. All the times I’d told him I needed to call home. All the times I’d chatted about my mother. He could accuse me of lying by omission, and he’d be right.
Even a year later, it was still too hard to open my mouth and tell people that she’d died. Whoever said time healed old wounds was wrong.
None of my new friends at the warehouse knew about my mother’s death.
I hadn’t told Dixie or Mila. Confiding in the skeleton girls would undoubtedly be comforting, but I hadn’t been ready.
Though enough time had passed to reach an anniversary, condensing my thoughts into an easy explanation felt impossible.
Sickness, diagnosis, hospital, hope. Then a funeral home.
I’d been at the side of my beloved, kind mother, trusting that the battle would be won, and I’d been left alone to handle the emptiness of all that came after.