11. Mila
11
MILA
I woke up when I felt the sun shining down on my face.
I couldn’t even remember the last time I had slept so deeply. I didn’t want to admit that it was probably when I was still at the Tiernan mansion.
Maverick was still sleeping beside me, his scent invading my senses and making it hard for me to think straight. One arm was thrown around my middle, holding me close to him while he spooned me from behind.
Slowly, I turned back to face him.
I pulled up short when I found his eyes open; the brightness in the blue hue told me he had been awake for a while. I blinked slowly, my eyes roaming over his features. They didn’t change, but he tightened his arms around me.
“How long have you been awake?” I asked.
He shrugged. I eyed him suspiciously. I was wrong. There wasn’t a brightness in his eyes because he had woken a long while ago. It was awareness.
My voice was still soft from sleep when I spoke. “Did you sleep at all?”
He let out a little smile. “On and off. I like watching you sleep.”
I should probably be a little creeped out by that, but at this point, I didn’t think him watching me sleep was even the worst of all he’d done.
I shook my head, and his smile widened.
“Can’t you sleep?” I asked.
“Very little.”
Wasn’t what I asked, but something about his answer teased my mind of a memory. “Insomnia?”
“On and off,” he answered casually, as if this was just another part of his night, and he had just accepted it.
I shot him a look.
He tapped the tip of his finger on my lip. “Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart.”
“Haven’t you ever thought about seeing someone about this?”
“Seeing someone? You mean a shrink?”
“A therapist ? Why not? Do you think your insomnia could be caused by… uh, psychological issues?” It would probably make sense, considering the way he and his brothers grew up.
He smirked. “Do you think I’m messed up in the head, baby?”
I didn’t respond, but I was sure my face gave him the answer.
He laughed. “Oh, baby, you have no idea.”
“I have an inkling,” I responded dryly.
He squeezed my side for the comment, and I jumped slightly, glaring over at him, trying to pull away.
He let out a small sigh and pushed me back close to his side. He didn’t try to tickle me again, though.
“I don’t think a therapist will help,” he said after a moment, surprising me.
“Why not? Have you tried it?”
He let out a small chortle, which told me the answer. “No, baby.”
I pressed my hands on his chest, feeling the steely muscles beneath his warm skin. He watched me and didn’t stop when I let my fingers run aimlessly over his skin, playing with what few chest hairs he did have.
“Why?” I asked finally, looking up and meeting his eyes.
“Why won't I go to therapy?” The tone of his voice suggested he thought the answer was obvious. I shook my head. It was obvious, and the last thing I wanted to do was nag at another adult to go to therapy when they didn’t want to. Besides, if there was something wrong with him, then there was something wrong with me for not being so… put off about all this.
“No, why do you have insomnia? Or do you not know?” Something told me he did know.
“Hmmm.” He pulled me in closer until my face was buried in his chest. I didn’t stop him, didn’t pull away. “I don’t know if there’s an actual answer. Maybe my messed-up childhood has contributed to it. Or hell, maybe my bastard father. Something I know you have firsthand experience with.”
I didn’t say anything. Having terrible parents wasn’t anything new to me, but I hadn’t really thought about how it had been for the brothers.
“And your mom?” I asked. Perhaps they had been better off than me. Perhaps they had a mom who protected them.
He laughed, the sound humorless and empty, telling me that wasn’t really the case. “She had one mode during her entire marriage to my father. Survival.”
I tightened my arms around him.
“Ah, don’t be like that, little monster. I’m fine. And I don’t really want to spend the morning rehashing my fucked-up childhood or letting you psychoanalyze me.”
I pulled back and frowned at him. “You think that’s what I’m doing?”
He cupped my cheek, his thumb moving over my lips. I relaxed when he shook his head.
“I’m not,” I added, moving my head to the side, away from his thumb. “Is it so bad that I want to know you better?”
“Why?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“Why? Are you planning on letting me go?”
His arms tightened around me from the question.
“That’s what I thought. Is it so bad that I want to know you? Or do you just want a silent, empty captive who you can fuck every once in a while?”
His expression darkened from my words. “I thought it was well established at this point that you are more than that. So much fucking more.”
“Then let me in. You said we were going to be completely honest with each other. You said I mean more to you. This sounds like a relationship, or am I mistaken?”
I said the last part quietly. I needed him to tell me exactly what this was. I needed to know my exact position in his life—in all their lives. Now that I was pregnant and was planning on keeping the baby, I needed to know that I would have a say in raising my own child. I needed to know that I would have the power to protect them—even from their fathers.
I looked up and met his eyes. They were soft.
He nodded, and I let out a small exhale.
“Yes, little monster. This is a relationship.”
“One where I have a say?”
“You can always say what’s on your mind without worry of repercussions. Your words will mean something, but you need to understand that I am still the head of this family. My word is law, and I expect you to follow it, the same way my men follow it, and the same way my brothers do.”
“Follow it?”
He pressed his thumb against my lips, halting my words.
“Killian and Silas always speak their mind. And I listen to them. But at the end of the day, everything that happens will still be my decision. They’ve accepted it as such.”
“You’re saying I’ll have as much power as Killian and Silas.”
He shook his head, smiling a little. “Power, little monster? You still don’t get it, do you? You have so much more power than them. Than me. Because I find it hard to ever deny you anything. And those bastards would destroy the world if you ask them to.”
I scoffed. “You say it like it’s true.”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss on my lips. I could feel my body coming alive from the contact, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, wanting more. He pulled away first. “Oh, it is very true,” he said. “Remember what I said. Complete honesty.”
I didn’t know what to say, mainly because I was still reeling from his words. And because I wanted him to kiss me again.
I looked down at his lips and licked my own.
He groaned. “Fuck me.” And he kissed me again.
Fuck.
How I missed this. How I missed him, missed them.
I didn’t want to admit it, to think about it when I ran away, mostly because I didn’t want to think about how I might have made a mistake.
I pulled him tighter to me from the thought, and he deepened the kiss. His hand moved down from my face and to my waist before he pulled me in closer to him, lining us up so that I could feel him perfectly .
I whimpered in his mouth, pushing my hips up.
God, but I had fucking missed him. So much. Tears burned my eyes, and I opened my mouth. His chest vibrated on a growl when he dipped his tongue inside, tasting me.
My hand moved to his back, my fingernails digging into his skin, especially when he glided his tongue against mine, teasing me and driving me insane.
The hand that was on my waist moved to the hem of my shirt, and he pulled it up. I pulled away from the kiss and helped him take it off me until I was naked beneath him, and his eyes greedily drank me up.
I shivered when he played with my nipple, twirling the hardened bud between two fingers and pulling on it every once in a while.
“Maverick,” I muttered.
“Fuck, I missed these,” he said, pushing down and licking my other nipple.
I gasped at the sensation. He pulled back to take in my face, his fingers around my nipple becoming rougher. My brows pinched from the pain, and he smiled a little, plucking at it.
“Please,” I said. “I need you.”
“Fuck me, baby. How could I say no to you?”
Was it true, then? Was he really incapable of denying me anything? A surge of power pushed through me, and I wrapped my arms around his hips, wanting him closer. He resisted.
“Hold on, baby.” His hand moved down between us, and he fumbled with his boxer briefs. I looked down, my heart dropping when he pushed the fabric away, and his massive cock sprang free. Fuck.
I bit my lip, my hands moving on their own accord. He didn’t stop me when I grabbed him, stroking up and down the thick length. My thumb pressed against the tip, feeling some wetness there, and I licked my lips. I wanted to taste him.
He must have known what I was thinking because he shook his head and gently pulled my hand away.
“Not this time, baby. I don’t want our reunion to come in your mouth.”
“Reunion?” I asked, my lips twitching at the word. I rolled my eyes and—“Hey!”
I yelped and grabbed my breast after he slapped my nipple. I glared up at him.
He grinned wickedly. “Don’t look at me like that, baby. You’re just asking for a punishment at this point.”
“Punishment?” I repeated.
He pulled up one leg and smacked his hand down on the side of my ass. I gasped from the sting, trying to rub over the abused flesh, but he gathered my wrists in his hand and held them above my head. I pulled them, but I knew there was no breaking from his hold.
“Maverick,” I whined when he spanked me again. And the glint in his eyes told me he was enjoying this too.
“Fuck, but you have such a spankable little ass. I might need to make this a daily thing.”
I shook my head. “You are not spanking me every day.”
“Are you sure? It might keep you in line. Stop you from being a brat and doing something rash like leaving again.”
And though there was a playful note in his words, I knew from the look in his eyes that there were some strong emotions about my leaving.
“I won’t leave again,” I said, knowing the words were true.
His eyes darkened. “Good. Because you should know, there is nowhere on God’s green earth that you can go where I won’t find you. I will always find you.”
I nodded. I believed him. He would always find me.
“Take me, Maverick. Please.”
“Fuck me, baby.” His hand moved down and cupped me between my legs, massaging over the damp folds. “Are you ready for me?”
“So ready,” I moaned out, pushing my hips up to get more friction. “Please.”
“Spread your legs for me.”
I did as he asked, with no hesitation. He moved in between them. I watched as he grabbed his cock and slapped the tip over my pussy. My thigh muscles clenched from the sensation.
“Fuck, Maverick. Please stop teasing me.”
He cock-slapped my pussy three more times before moving the tip to my entrance. He kept his eyes on me when he drove in all the way, burying himself to the hilt. My eyes rolled to the back of my head from the sensation, and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close to me as if I were afraid he might disappear on me. As if this might be nothing more than a dream, and I would wake up any moment now and be alone in the motel room.
I didn’t know what I would do if that were the case.
His lips roamed over my face with whisper-light kisses, drawing me away from my dark thoughts. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. The sunlight fell on his body, creating a sort of halo around him, making him look more like a fallen angel than human. Sweat gathered in a fine sheen on his skin. He was warm and hard everywhere, and all mine.
“Mine,” I said softly.
He nodded in agreement, moving his hips slowly. “Yours.”
My lips fell open in a silent moan when I felt him pull out until just the tip of him remained inside of me, and then he pushed back in all the way once more.
A tingle started to pulsate through me from the sensation, and I clenched around him, causing a slow rumble to come out of him.
We looked at each other as he moved, thrusting inside me at a languid, steady pace at first until I felt a prickling of tears in my eyes from the pleasure, knowing it was going to be too much soon and not enough. Fuck, but not enough . His strokes were steady and slow, dragging out the torture and taking a little more of me each time I felt him forcefully push back inside.
I grabbed his hips, wanting him to move faster against me, wanting so much more of him; I didn’t know what to do with myself.
He complied, his movements harsh and messy and out of control. I watched his face, his blue eyes encased in a kind of darkness I didn’t think I had ever seen before—the kind that I could easily fall into—his tan skin flushed, and his lips swollen. It was as I looked into his eyes, when he held me captive simply from watching me, that I felt the first wave of the orgasm.
My heart dropped from the sensation, and he doubled his efforts, fucking me harder.
A sound I had never made—never thought I would make—wrung from my lips as shockwave after shockwave spurted through my entire being.
I wrapped myself around him, my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips, urging him to go harder, go faster. The bed rocked with his next thrust, and his next one, and the next. A sob burst free from my lips, and I buried my face in his neck. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, tugging on it roughly when I found myself pushed to the abyss, and his movements continued, drawing out the orgasm.
I cried harder into his skin.
“That’s it, little monster,” he said softly beside me, the gentle tone a contradiction to his brutal movements. I didn’t think I could take it anymore. A second orgasm hit unexpectedly, and I clung harder to him.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he growled, the rumble coming out of his chest doing nothing but heightening the sensation for me. A third, small baby orgasm pushed through, and?—
That was it. My arms and legs fell away as I found I could no longer do anything more but lay there.
Maverick pulled back and looked at me, the movements of his hips never stopping. His huge body shook above me, and I watched, fascinated, as he lost control completely.
With a roar, he came inside me; the sensation of his cum dripping in and around me was strange and as addicting as it had been that first time.
It didn’t matter that we didn’t use a condom. It was moot at this point, and there was something… freeing about the thought. That I didn’t have to worry because the cause of my worry already came true.
Once he expelled his cum inside me, I felt his whole body relax before he let his weight go slightly. Not enough to crush me, but enough for me to feel his solid form. For me to take comfort in the protective blanket that was his body on top of mine.
I closed my eyes and listened to the sudden silence of the room, save for our harsh breathing, feeling his chest pushing in and out against mine. I rubbed my hand over his back, taking in all the dips and curves of his hard muscles there.
“You’re real,” I said, surprising myself when my voice came out clearly in the room. I hadn’t meant to say it so loud… or at all.
Maverick pulled away from me to take in my face. “Real, baby.”
We didn’t say anything for a moment. Then I nodded, and he smiled.
He pulled out of me—the wet sound my pussy made, plus the sensation of him moving inside of me and the spillage of his cum sliding out, made me shudder.
He shot me a knowing grin, looking almost proud of himself. I lightly slapped his shoulder and rolled my eyes. He retaliated by pinching my nipple, and I let out a harsh exhale but didn’t pull away. I knew better, knowing he would only draw out the torture if I fought him.
Luckily, he didn’t prolong the pain, pulling away from me after two long seconds, his eyes going down to the poor abused flesh. I didn’t miss the dark expression that passed over his face. He loved it when he hurt me. When he played rough.
And I might be just as bad as he was because I didn’t… hate it. Not even a little. Not at all.
His arms went around my waist then, and in one quick, smooth move, he lifted me up and around until he was lying on his back on the bed, and I was on top of him, my legs on either side of him.
I sat up, both of my hands braced on his chest. His eyes were unreadable as he watched me, waiting to see what I would do. And for a moment, I wasn’t even sure myself, but then…
I found myself lying back down on his body, the side of my face pressed to his chest, and listening to his heartbeat.
I closed my eyes as he played with my hair, feeling most of the exhaustion of the week falling off my shoulders. The feeling of it, the lightening of the pressure, was so good that I felt tears prick my eyes.
I didn’t say anything, and neither did he, though I was sure he felt my tears wet his skin.
We just stayed there in the contentment, and that was all there was to it.