Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Theo
I don’t know what I did right in this life to deserve a shot with July, but I’m too worked up to think about the whys and wherefores too hard. We’re standing in front of her apartment door, her fingers trembling slightly as she turns her keys in the lock. My hands are on her hips, tracing her curves with my palms, because I can’t stop touching her.
It’s nothing short of compulsion.
And I’m going to be honest with myself, I shouldn’t be following this nervous virgin into her home. She isn’t ready to fuck me. But my need to fuck her is out of control. I’ve flown straight past the point of desperate. When I told her I can get off without being inside of her, I meant it. Hell, I’ve proven that. There’s a war drum beating inside of me, though, the tempo increasing steadily, calling me to engage my enemy.
That enemy is hunger.
Hunger that has been suppressed way too long.
Until her.
Now, I stand just inside the door, watching her flit around, picking up discarded coffee mugs, tidying her already pristine apartment. It’s all blues and silvers and plush rugs, big, comfortable-looking pillows and stacks of books on antique shelves. It’s a magical place that suits the magical girl who made my blood start flowing again. It’s sweet. It’s a sanctuary. And all I want to do is drag her to the ground and hike up her skirt.
Control.
Find some control.
I could so easily ruin this.
Don’t ruin this.
“So, um…” She stands in front of the couch, wringing her hands. “Do you want to sit down?”
I wrestle back the dishonorable impulse to throw her over my shoulder, stride to the bedroom probably located at the end of the short hallway and take what I need so badly. Take what she hasn’t offered me yet. That’s not the man you used to be. Don’t prove right the people who treated you like an animal by becoming one . Somehow, I manage to hold off the urge and go closer, joining her in front of the couch. I sit down slowly, concentrating on keeping my hands to myself. Concentrating on not slaking myself.
“Are you okay?” she asks, sitting down beside me, our thighs an inch apart. “You seem really tense.”
I want to be honest with July at all times, the way she’s been so honest with me, so I search for the words to describe how I’m feeling. Without scaring her. “I’ve been living without necessities for so long…starved and beaten. Reduced to needs, like food, water, warmth. Survival. Then suddenly I have a soft, beautiful girl in front of me in her pretty apartment and I’m trying to stop thinking in terms of immediate needs and enjoy the journey, the moment, you …it’s just hard. To be normal.”
“Maybe it’ll get easier as we spend more time together.” Her cheeks darken with color, her mouth opening and closing. “I mean, if you want to spend more time—”
“I stalked you to the train and all but demanded you take me home, July. I don’t know how to make it any clearer that I want all your time to myself.”
She nods, squeezes her eyes shut. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I guess because I’ve never had a man in my apartment.”
“Interesting first choice.” Her laugh slides around in my belly, kicking my pulse into a heavier rhythm . I can do this. I can make her not regret me. Maybe. “July…”
She turns to face me, one of her knees coming to rest on the couch, the shadow between her thighs becoming a painful distraction. If that skirt was one inch higher, I’d finally know what kind of panties she wears. God, I want to know so badly. The color, the material, the cut. “Yes?” she prompts me.
I clear my throat hard, holding on to what I want to say. “I want you to know I’m not just…some crazy man walking around Chicago who fixated on you. At least, that’s not all I am,” I say wryly, dragging a hand down my face. This is going great, idiot. “I’m an investor in a private security company. Some of my Army buddies started the business while I was in recovery and it’s rolling now. They want me to oversee Chicago operations while they branch out in Philadelphia next.”
“Theo, that’s great.”
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you seem excited?”
I hesitate. “I need to pass a psych eval before they’ll hand over the reins. It’s not unusual. They all took it themselves. But, uh…”
“You’re not sure you’ll pass it just yet,” she finishes, softly.
My chest is starting to ache, the sounds of gunfire, screaming, the smell of smoke and rotting flesh. All of it invades me at once. “Yeah. I can’t see how I will. Which means I’m going to need a lot of therapy fist.”
Slowly, she lets her knee touch my thigh and I’m almost caught off guard by the amount of support that single touch gives me. Not necessarily comfort, because I still want to rip her clothes off, but her knee against my thigh makes me feel…steadier.
“Have you talked to anyone at all?”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “I know it helps a lot of guys, but I can’t listen to someone sitting in a leather armchair in an air-conditioned office tell me how I’m feeling and why. I just can’t take it seriously. They weren’t there.”
“I understand. Your experience was unthinkable. Someone trying to relate to it in such a controlled environment is probably hard to bear.”
“Exactly.” Relief swamps me. She gets it. I want to keep going, because her intuitive manner makes me want to unload my baggage. I don’t want her to feel bad for me or feel bad for any reason, though, so I change the subject. “You read all those books?”
July glances over at the shelves, wincing slightly. “Half of them, probably. I get a little overzealous at the bookstore. But I justify the expense by reminding myself that I skip the happy hours and girl trips my co-workers invite me on.”
“Why do you skip them?”
“I always feel out of place.” A line forms between her brows while she thinks. “I’m not being myself in those big groups. I’m trying too hard to be interesting and fun and appeal to everyone at once. It’s exhausting. It doesn’t come naturally.”
“What would you rather do? Instead of spending time in large groups of friends?”
“I don’t know,” she whispers. “Before today, I would have said I like being in my own company. Working. Browsing and reading and dreaming. Keeping my…peace. But…”
“What?”
Her shyness undoes knots in my chest I didn’t know were tying me up. “I like having you in my company. I’m being myself with you.” She studies me for a handful of seconds, no idea my fucking heart is beating out of my chest over what she just said. “Do you feel normal in big groups of friends?”
“My friends are soldiers. None of us feel normal. I think…that’s what bonds us. The abnormal is our normal.” I laugh without humor. “If my friends were here, they’d be telling me I have no business getting within ten feet of you, baby.”
“Why?”
I inhale and exhale, gripping onto my self-control for dear life. “July, you’re a blushing virgin in a tight skirt, sitting next to man who hasn’t fucked in four years. It’s a miracle I’m not pounding you into these fluffy little cushions right now.” My chest shudders up and down. “I have no idea where I’m getting the goddamn willpower.”
* * *
July
His hoarse confession sends a downward fluttering in my belly that intensifies between my legs. I’ve never been so objectified in my life and that’s supposed to damn well offend me, but I’m enveloped in heat, instead. I’m excited , my nipples budding under my sweater, my flesh sensitizing, lungs beginning to labor. As a special forces soldier, this man is surely dangerous when he chooses to be. Theo could hold me down and take what he needs so visibly, and yet, I feel as if I’ve harnessed all the power.
I like having it.
Which must be why I turn fully on the couch and kneel beside him, observing the way he tenses, his hands curling into shaking fists on his muscular thighs. He seems to be fighting the need to look at me, but he loses that battle, his pupils dilating as they zero in on my mouth.
“I told you I would help you get relief, Theo,” I say, sliding my right hand into his windblown hair, prompting his eyes to roll back in his head. “Why don’t you ask for it?”
“July, please…”
“Ask.”
“Just because you can bat your eyelashes and make me bust, doesn’t mean I don’t want to bust inside of you.” His hips tilt, as if to drive his point home, and for the first time, I let myself look at the big ridge in his jeans. “Now that we’re alone…I’m afraid if you give me an inch, I’ll take a mile.”
“You won’t do anything against my will.”
A harsh laugh escapes him. “I’m glad you’re that confident in me.”
“I am.” Wanting to prove my confidence in Theo, I follow instinct, peeling the sweater off over my head, leaving me in a pink lace bra and my skirt. “I know you’ll find a way that makes us both happy.”
“Oh God,” he groans, looking at my breasts, his lower body twisting on the couch, that bulge so prominent now, it’s a wonder it fits in his jeans. “ God, it fucking hurts .”
“How do we make it stop hurting?”
His eyes are black now, his breath coming in quick pants. “You can lie down like a good girl and let me stretch that little fuck hole.”
I gasp. Out of shock over his crudeness. Out of shock that it makes me feel languid.
But I’m pushing him too hard, too far. It just feels so exhilarating to be desired like this after a lifetime of being in the background. I thought that’s what I wanted. To blend in. But…with Theo looking at me like I belong in a museum, I’m not so sure anymore. “Not yet, Theo,” I murmur. “Think of another wa—”
“ No. ” He surges taller on the couch, gripping the front clasp of my bra with both hands and ripping it in half, the cups falling away from my breasts as he wrestles the straps down my arms with a snarl. “ Lay down , you little tease. I’m stealing that cherry. It’s mine.”
“Theo. Stop!”
His frantic movements pause, and I watch as he visibly struggles to regain his self-control, nostrils flared as they devour the sight of my straining nipples. The tops of my thighs that have been exposed in the struggle. “Oh Jesus, you need to call the police, baby. I’m not a good man right now.”
“I don’t need to call the police,” I assure him, and myself. Honestly, I’m the one that needs the most reassuring, because not only is he losing his grip on self-control…I like it. I like driving him crazy with my body, my hands, my voice. Who knew I had this inside of me?
Bringing my forehead to Theo’s, I reach down and unzip his jeans, wildly outside of my wheelhouse, but too turned on to second guess myself. “We’re going to take care of this together.” I fist his erection in my left hand, stroking it top to bottom. “Just like we planned.”
He makes a sound I’ve never heard come from a man.
It’s a low, guttural scrub of his vocal cords.
His right hand flies to the arm of the couch, holding on for purchase, his chest heaving up and down. “Oh, fuck yeah. Play with it, baby. Fast. Fast. Take the edge off before I do something bad, like pin you down for my load.”
He’s huge in my grip. Smooth and veiny and turgid. His balls are bigger than expected, too, swelled up and partially hidden beneath his garden of dark pubic hair. I slide my hold up, down, up, watching his flesh move with me, the size of him increasing with every pump, wetness appearing at the thick tip, his hips lifting with my hand, his whole body shuddering and shaking, sweat glistening on his forehead.
“Harder,” he grits through his teeth, analyzing me with molten eyes. “Look at you. Kneeling with your innocent tits out, stroking a cock for the first time. Blushing over your first hand job . ” His stomach hollows violently and he groans, long and loud, his flesh beginning to pulse with more intensity in my hand. “That blush is going to get you into a lot of trouble with me, little girl.”
“What kind of trouble?” I whisper, my sex tightening and releasing over the words "little girl". Little girl . Why do I respond so feverishly to that name?
“The barefoot and pregnant kind, July.”
“Oh,” I breathe, with difficulty. I’m hot, dizzy.
“I’m almost there.” He heaves the warning, but I don’t really need it. Instinct tells me he couldn’t possibly last much longer with this much pressure built up in his sex. He’s practically made of stone now. I can barely get my hand around him. “Keep jerking it, but kneel on the floor. Right in front of me. Let me nut on that curious little face.”
My legs move without my consent and I’m on the floor before Theo in a flash, crowded in close between the V of his thighs, my hand still racing up and down to pleasure him, my grip tight, so tight, and so much of his pre-come has dripped down that each stroke is a wet frop , the muscles of his thighs bunched to the extreme.
“Call me Daddy when you’re on your knees,” he rasps, beating his chest with a fist.
“Daddy,” I whisper, sticking out my tongue dutifully.
In a way that simply comes naturally.
A rattling shout is ripped from inside and his spurts paint me in thick stripes, landing across my tongue, forehead, cheeks, the consistency like rubber cement, but the taste salty and earthy and perfect. I know this because I draw it back into my mouth and savor the taste of him with a moan, my sex clenching unexpectedly, a ticklish tide invading lower and lower, the concentration of need so incredibly frustrating and beautiful, I can’t withstand it…and I’m…I’m having an orgasm.
Oh my God.
My body knows it before my mind.
My first climax.
I have it while looking up at Theo, his shaft giving off ropes of pent-up lust, his hips thrusting up and grinding at the air, like he can’t stand the pleasure. And when he realizes I’m also in the throes of pleasure, he gets this awestruck and possessive look in his eye that I instantly know will carry on as a core memory.
“Daddy,” I whimper, looking down at the floor where my panties drip with excess moisture and leave a small puddle. “ Daddy? ”
He bellows a curse up at the ceiling, a final spurt decorating my collarbone. A moment of rasping breath passes, his forearm coming up to swipe the sweat on his forehead and then I’m being scooped off the floor and thrown onto the couch with Theo looming above me, my skirt shoved up to my waist, panties being ripped down to my ankles and thrown across the room
“Theo…” I gasp, still coming down from an incredible height.
“You tasted my come, now I get to taste yours.” He presses my knees open and goes down on his stomach, grinding his face against my sex, abrading the sensitive flesh with his five o’clock shadow, the rough gusts of his breath making me hotter, hotter. “Goddamn, I can’t even see the hole. Where the fuck is it?” He maneuvers me side to side. “Oh my God, there she is.” He spits on me, there, his face a mask of possessiveness. “That’s my fucking property now. That’s Daddy’s fuck hole. Say it.”
“That’s Daddy’s fuck hole,” I sob, that wonderful strain building once again in my tummy, the need almost worse than before, because I know the glory that lies on the other side and I want it, I want it, I want it. “Make it stop!” I cry out.
Theo’s tongue snakes into the top of my slit and I have a flash of embarrassment, because surely I’m soaked and fragrant, but his groan of pure starvation upon tasting me robs me of self-doubt and now there’s nothing but light. Light at the end of the tunnel that gets closer the faster his tongue moves. “Right there, right there!”
Whose voice is that? Mine? I don’t know. How did the strands of his hair get wrapped around my fingers? I’m moaning and writhing, and I don’t know myself anymore and I love that. I’m free. I’m overcome by heightening pain that transforms into wet, shuddering, convulsive joy that tears a scream of his name from my throat.
I’m swallowed by the light.
I see his worshipful face above me.
And I slip into the deepest sleep of my life.