Archer
ARCHER
W hen sitting in a bright hospital room while your best friend grieves a life that could have been, time drips through an hourglass slower than a man’s sanity can handle. The tick-tick-tick of the clock is a special form of torture, and the passage of time is torturous and tiring.
But then you’re placed back in the real world again. For the first day, time typically sticks to the molasses schedule. Drip. Drip. Insanity-inducing drip. But soon after, when society marches outside your window and a man is forced to interact with the people out there, things tend to speed up.
Arranging a funeral is time-consuming. Especially in cases like Jada’s, where she didn’t have the luxury of dying from a disease like cancer or kidney failure, or even better, from old age. She died because of the damage caused to her internal organs because a man felt entitled to her body, whether she wanted to share it with him or not.
He wanted to fuck, she said no.
He wanted money, she didn’t have that either.
The tread of his boot was stamped on the side of her ribs, because that’s how hard he stomped. The shape of his fists were pounded into her flesh, because he wanted something of hers, and she tried to tell him no.
Jada’s death isn’t the kind where doctors and those in power will sign off and say, ‘ All is fine here. Bury her. ’ No, she’s still stuck, dead center of a homicide investigation, and though the medical examiner—none of the M.E.s we know, since the law wouldn’t allow such a conflict of interest—has done their job and filed the reports necessary, the fact her case remains open makes bringing her to a funeral home particularly difficult.
Not impossible. Just onerous.
“It’s time to pick music and stuff.” Minka is instrumental in keeping the rest of us sane. She and Aubree are the backbone to everything we do, as Fletch floats through the planning and Mia spends most of her time watching the sky. “We’ve got a date, and we’ve informed the people who need to know. There will be no viewing, as decided—” No shit. Jada’s in no shape to be seen — “But we’ll have a graveside ceremony where the funeral director will read some things and offer his prayers.”
“What was her favorite song?” Aubree sits in Minka’s visitor chair, since this is where we, as a group, find comfort. Even Mia, who plasters her nose to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looks out at the city. “Could be a song she loved to listen to when she needed to find calm. Or one she liked to dance to.”
“What song did she walk down the aisle to?” Minka wonders. “You could consider that one.”
“I have a song in mind.” Slowly, Fletch brings his focus up and nibbles on the inside of his cheek. “It’s kinda country. But it’s nice.”
“Which one?” Aubree whips out her phone and swipes the screen open in preparation to search. “Do you know who it’s from? Or some of the words.”
“Don’t Forget To Remember Me.” He clears his throat and lifts a hand to scratch his jaw. “It’s not the typical Wind Beneath My Wings or whatever. But it’s nice. I figure it could be kinda like we,” though he nods toward Mia, without saying her name or calling attention to the fact he speaks about her, “are saying goodbye for now. But not forever.”
“That’s a good choice.” Minka scribbles her notes and ignores the phones ringing outside her four walls. The techs who stream by. The beds that are wheeled past, and the dead bodies who are, just like Jada, gone. “I can organize that to be the song played for her.”
“Do you want to carry the casket?” Aubree asks the next tough question. Her jaw trembling because of it, but her eyes fierce enough to get her through. “We have options, in that the funeral director could have her placed there already for when we arrive. Or you could select pallbearers who would help you. You’d need six in total.”
“I don’t know that many?—”
“I’ll help you.” I drop my chin in acknowledgment when his eyes swing across. “If that’s what you want. If you truly want to bring her over yourself, then I’ll help.”
“Even though you…” He peeks over at Mia before looking my way again. “Didn’t agree with some of her choices?”
“For you?” My lips curl into a gentle smile. “Yeah. I’ll do whatever you need. And if we need four more to make six, then it just so happens I have four brothers who would help with anything we asked.”
He scoffs, immediately dismissing my words. “Felix and Micah are on the other side of the country. And we have beef. No way they’re?—”
“There is no beef.” I lean on the edge of Minka’s desk and cross my arms. “You’re my brother, which makes you their brother. There’s no questioning that.”
“Arch—”
“This is your call. But if you’re worried about having enough hands, then I’m telling you it’s a done deal. We take care of those we love, no matter what. No matter how far we have to travel or how many times we’ve argued.”
“Or we can have the casket placed on the pulleys before we arrive,” Minka reminds him. “If the alternative is too much stress for you right now, there are options that simplify the process.”
“I mean…” He draws a shuddering breath deep into his lungs and hesitantly peers my way. “Felix has to stay with his wife in New York. She’s sick, so dragging him across would be shitty.”
“He’ll make it work. And if he can’t—if he absolutely cannot find a way to be here on the day you need family—then he’ll send a proxy.”
“Frank looks pretty strong,” Aubree teases. “Kinda sexy, if you’re into the reserved and slightly terrifying type.”
Minka tosses a pen at her colleague and reaches into her drawer for another. “You’re not allowed to think other people are sexy anymore. Your relationship with the don says so.”
“First of all,” she picks up the pen and flicks it between her fingers, “he’s not the don. He’s just named after one. And second, I didn’t suddenly go blind just because he thinks he has a claim now.”
“ Thinks .” I reach around and scratch the back of my neck. Funny how breeding and muscle memory still have nerves running through my blood, because the thought of questioning a Timothy comes with the promise of pain.
Not the Tim we know. Never him. But the instinct is still there.
“Pretty sure the ring on your finger says otherwise, Emeri.”
“He understands my eccentricities,” she quips. “It’s hardly reasonable to expect a woman to live in this city and not accept there are sexy men all around. Daddy Mayor is a prime example.”
“For god’s sake.” Minka presses the pads of her fingers to her eyes and groans. “Can we stop calling him that? The first time it accidentally slips past my lips when I’m talking to him, I’m going on a murder spree. Nothing could top the humiliation I would feel in that moment.”
“She wishes she could admit he’s hot,” Aubree taunts. “But she’s got daddy issues and is already at a social disadvantage. It simply wouldn’t come naturally for her to acknowledge such deep-seated, baser feelings.”
“Fletch?” Her eyes are hard with a glare she means for someone else. “Carrying or not?”
“Carrying.” He swallows when he looks my way, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement. “Please. It’s how I think I could show my respect. But Mia would have to stand with?—”
“We won’t leave her alone for a single second.” She writes her notes, but peeks up at him from beneath her lashes. “I promise. Outfits for the day?”
“I already left a dress with the funeral home and?—”
“I mean yours.” She sets her hands atop her notes and smiles at him. “We’re three days out, and you still need something to wear. A suit is typical. But you’ll need an extra warm coat, since we’ll be outside. And Mia might want to wear a dress and stockings? Something cute and semi-formal, but still comfortable and warm.”
“I don’t…” Sighing, he sets his face in his hands as frustration builds. “I have a suit. And Mia has dresses. So I guess I can probably just?—”
I look over to the opening door, my eyes flashing wide in stunned disbelief, but even if I wanted to say something, to warn Fletch of our visitor, the opportunity passes too quickly, because Seraphina rests her shoulder against the framing and offers a small, terrified smile. “I would like to take Mia shopping for a dress, if that would be okay with you.”
His head snaps up, dangerously fast and painful when he spins to find the owner of the voice. But it’s Mia who squeals with delight and bursts into tears.
Happy tears. Sad tears.
Her emotions sit so impossibly close to the surface, her eyes brimming over. But then she takes off like a shot, crossing the office and throwing herself forward the way I’ve seen her do with her mother in the past. But where Jada let the girl crash into her legs, Fifi bends and sweeps the four-year-old into her arms.
“Oh my gosh, Fifi!” She wraps her arms around her neck and squeezes tight enough to cut the woman’s air off. “You’re here! I wished for you to come.”
Fifi cries, elegant tears slipping free of her eyes. But she turns her face and hides her vulnerable side, wiping her cheek on Mia’s sweater before she pulls back. “I’m so sorry I went away.”
“It’s snowing outside, Fifi.” She points wildly back in the direction she came, risking her safety if Fifi were to let go. But she’s so happy, tears dribble over her goofy grin and drip off the edge of her chin. “It’s snowing, and now you’re here! That means Mommy must’ve sent you.”
“Oh dear.” Minka slowly rises from her chair, nervously twining her fingers together and gritting her teeth. “Sorry. That was my fault. She?—”
“I’m happy that you want me here.” Instead of touching on the mommy thing, Seraphina allows Mia to grab a lock of her hair, to twist it around her finger and bring it up to tickle her chin. “I’ve missed you a lot since we last hung out.”
“I missed you too. Daddy said you were super busy at work because the mayor was keeping you away. And Aunty Minka said that’s ‘cause the mayor is a no-good scoundrel who steals people and doesn’t say sorry.”
Fifi narrows her eyes and glares at my sheepish wife. “Really?”
“I was doing the best I could with the information I had! And it was way better than other things I could have said.”
“Are you gonna come to my mommy’s party on Friday, Miss Fifi?” Mia cups Seraphina’s cheeks and forces her back until they’re almost nose to nose. “Did you know she died? I haven’t seen you, so I didn’t get to tell you yet.”
Oh dear.
Her eyes glitter with devastation, but she tries on the bravest smile she’s got. “Yeah, honey. I know about your mommy. I’m so sorry this has happened to you.”
“She’s not sick anymore.” She sniffles and wipes beneath her nose with the sleeve of her top. “I’ll miss her, Miss Fifi, ‘cause she’s gone and can’t come see me anymore. But it’s cool that she’s all better now. Being sick is no fun.”
“That’s right.” She blinks the tears from her eyes and works with all her might to firm her trembling jaw. “I think it’s wonderful that your mommy is feeling all better now.”
“Sera…” Fletch’s voice crackles with months and months of pent-up anxiety. Sorrow. Regret. “I don’t… I’m not sure…” He swallows and draws a long breath. “I’m so sorry for everything. I swear I am.”
“I heard you.” Finally, she glances over and rewards him with her full attention, but without even a hint of bitterness or scorn. “I called the station, because I was looking for you. Then, I called Callen to check if Mayet was in the office. She said the chief was hosting a meeting with the homicide detectives, which is how I knew you would be here. Mia will need a new dress for this…” Awkward, she clears her throat. “Thing.”
“Party!” Mia offers. “It’s a bit like a birthday party for Mommy. But the opposite. So we can tell her we love her and stuff. She’ll be able to hear from Heaven.”
“Party.” Fifi nods. “She’ll need a new dress. I’ll understand completely if you think it’s a bad idea, but if you’re open to it, I’d like to take her shopping. Minka and Aubree could come too, so you know Mia is with people you trust.”
“Well, hang on a sec,” Minka grumbles. “At no point did I offer to go shopping.”
“Babe.” Chuckling, I snag her hand and yank her my way until she crashes against my side. “Shush.”
“Aubree will come,” Fifi tries again. “She’ll have her in her sights the whole time, and I promise to?—”
“You can take her shopping.” He rubs his cheek, though there’s nothing there to clean up. “Tomorrow, probably. If that works for you.”
“It does.” She looks down at the girl who happily bounces in her arms. “My schedule is flexible, and the scoundrel mayor is supportive of whatever I need to do over the next few days. Family comes first.” A wistful smile rolls across her lips. “He said family will always come first, and his former assistant will fill in when I can’t be there.”
“Assistant!” Minka exclaims. “See! That’s what I said! And yet I was made out to be the monster.”
“I’m his assistant. With promising prospects for career growth amongst the city’s elite. I was not your assistant, ever. The details matter.”
“The city’s elite,” she rolls her eyes. “Woman, you’re currently standing with the city’s elite. Don’t let that scoundrel convince you otherwise.”
T he bags under Minka’s eyes grow smaller the further we move away from January eleventh. Her sleep improves, even while organizing a funeral and helping our friend through some really shitty days. She pulls strings and rank to have Jada’s body released for burial, and while Fletch seems content to float along and allow these things to be planned around him, I keep an eye on everyone else. Because I’ll be damned if I let anyone I care about run themselves into the ground for this.
“I need you and Micah to come to Copeland,” I tell Felix the evening after our meeting in Minka’s office, the phone pressed to my ear and my ass making a dent in the couch cushions where my brother rests his head each night. Jesus, help me. I’m actually inviting Felix to my side of the country. “Fletch needs us to be pallbearers, and I promised him all of us would help.”
“You promised my time and physical presence without even asking?” He tsks and taps his fingers against his desk. “I’m a busy man, . You think I can drop everything, fuel up a plane, and just come be your bitch boy?”
“Don’t worry about it, then. I’ll have Frank step in for you.”
“No, wait!” He shouts before I hang up. I wasn’t gonna. “I was kidding. We’ll be there, but only if you let us stay at your place that night.”
“Hotels are more comfortable.”
“Hotels don’t have all five brothers in the same room. You, Tim, and Cato will already be there. I’ll bring Micah and make it a complete set. Fletch will be pretty fucked by the end of the day, and so will his cute kid, so they’ll head home and sleep. That means we can get drunk and hunt down the motherfucker who hurt the woman we’re burying.”
“You wouldn’t have liked her.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Tap. Tap. Tap . “She means something to Mia and Fletch, so she means something to me.”
“Hunting down a killer, unless you’re a cop, is against the law.”
“Good thing you’re a cop, then. I’ll borrow your badge if the popo question us.”
I choke out a quiet laugh. “No.”
“Yes.”
“And getting drunk before committing a crime is how you get caught.”
“So we’ll kill the dude first, then get blasted. The order of events hardly matters here, Arch.”
“No,” I repeat. “But if you happen to get word of where Booth is hiding, pass that information along. I’ll give it to the detectives so they can put that prick behind bars. Fletch is being a little too cool about this shit.”
“Cool?”
“Yeah. Like… He’s a little too relaxed about it all. Like a, ‘ They’ll get him when they get him, ’ kinda thing. Which, for some, could be a good thing. It’s the mature take on a shitty situation. But from where I’m standing, I get the feeling he’s biding his time and almost prepared to live behind bars to get the job done. It’s best for us all, especially his daughter, that we have Booth put away and out of reach before certain things are done that can’t be undone.”
“Or…” he taunts playfully. “I take care of it. Fletch remains a free man, and Booth eats through a straw for the rest of his life.”
“Did anyone ever tell you that you get too emotionally invested in protecting others?” I relax back on the couch and chuckle while Minka moves through our apartment in panties and one of my shirts. Because Cato is in class, Fletch is with Aubree purchasing a new suit, and Mia is with Fifi, re-bonding after the world’s most painful non-breakup breakup. I focus just a third of my brain on Felix, as the rest of me is glued to my wife’s backside when she hums a song in her throat and steps into the hall.
Gone.
Shit.
“Tim was born to rule,” he explains, though my mind long ago lost that train of thought. “Micah was born to clear the way. And I was put here to protect. It’s not my fault the old man ran out of uses by the time you came along.”
“Funny. Seems I was born to defy, and by doing so, showed you cowards it’s possible to walk away. You and Micah still haven’t learned.”
“We all have a journey to walk. What time do we have to be in Copeland on Friday?”
“Uh…” I think to the billion details Minka has made herself in charge of. “Funeral begins at two. We’ll be carrying her out of the hearse and over to the plot you paid for.”
“Good. Means I get to inspect my purchase and make sure they gave her the good spot with all the pretty flowers. Does he know?”
“That you financed it? Nah. I made up a story about the Commissioner’s Fund, and he was too wrecked to doubt my words. It took a load of stress off his shoulders when he found out, though. I know he was worried, and he was definitely bitter about her parents being loaded but shirking all responsibility. He’s raising Mia all alone and needs his money for her, but he would have figured it out if he had to. Or he would have tried, anyway. Sending himself into debt and working himself to death to climb out of the hole again.”
“Well, there’s no need for that. And he can maintain his pride because no one will tell him otherwise. How are you doing? Alright?”
“Me? I’m fine, why?”
“Because when your brother hurts, you hurt. Who knows that better than us? She might not have been very likable, but she was important, and now she’s gone. He’s in pain, and you’re over there taking care of everyone else. That’s gonna come tumbling down if you’re not careful.”
“I’m fine. I’m not, like, sad or anything.” I fold my ankle over my knee and pick at a thread hanging from the seam of my pants. “Her being gone is actually a kind of relief in a way. Once the funeral is done and life goes on, our new normal is gonna be a helluva lot more peaceful than it was before. She was a pain in the ass, and she caused harm without remorse. Now she’s gone. Once this scar heals, they won’t bleed anymore.”
“You’re definitely right,” he chuckles. “I wouldn’t have liked her. But I’ll stand up there with you for a woman you won’t miss.”
“Makes you a good man, Lix. Annoying,” I amend with a grin. “But good.” I look across again when Minka steps out of the hall, absent-mindedly holding a single shoe. A heel. Which makes me think she’s lost the other. “At least I knew her,” I explain. “And for a while there, before it all turned to shit, I was fond of her. That’s what I’m reminding myself, anyway. But you’re flying across the country on your own dime, to bury a woman you’ve never met and you wouldn’t have liked even if you had, for a man you’ve never had a civil conversation with, who just so happens to be a cop. You don’t like cops, Lix. But here you are, doing a really fucking good thing for someone who represents everything you abhor.”
“He could say the same about me.” Tap. Tap. Tap . “He’s a cop who swore an oath to lock people like me behind bars. I maybe, kinda, sorta napped his kid that one time, and I’ve made no attempt to better my reputation since then. It’s good of him to accept my presence on this day that’s really fuckin’ important to him.”
“He needs family.” I watch Minka in the reflection of the TV while she moves into the kitchen and digs around in the drawers. Still carrying that one heel, like maybe she’ll find the other in the cutlery tray. “The family he was born into is absolute fucking trash. So the second he could get out, he did. The family he married into is trash, too. And then he divorced her anyway. He’s just got him and Mia now. And me. It just so happens I bring a whole bunch of trash of my own.”
“You best watch your tone, little boy. I could turn up on Friday and mess up your face. Wouldn’t be the first time I made you cry.”
“Uh-huh.” I keep an eye on Minka’s reflection as she slams the drawer closed and meanders this way. As soon as she’s close enough, I reach out and snag her wrist, startling her from her reverie and yanking over my shoulder until she’s a crumpled mess piled atop cushions and half on my lap. But I press my free hand to her face and cover her mouth so she can’t cuss me out.
Her eyes narrow to dangerous slits. My life, more in danger than it ever was when I was living in the Malone mansion. “You fail to scare me, Lix. But my wife requires my attention now, so I’m hanging up and spending time with her.”
“You’re gonna fuck,” he drawls. “Cato’s out and the entire world is on fire. Don’t pretend I don’t know exactly what you’re gonna do with this time.”
“And yet, you’re still on the phone. Bye, Lix.” I pull the device from my ear and tap the red dot to kill our call. Then I toss the phone away and crawl over top of my wife. “Are you looking for your shoe, or are you mentally taxed and simply walking in circles?”
She bites my palm and smirks when I wrench it away.
“Can I not be mentally taxed, and looking for a shoe, and pissed that my husband would demand my time when I’m clearly busy doing something else? Add in your unprovoked attack and hand on my face, and you should be pleased it’s your palm that hurts, and not your nuts.”
“But my nuts do hurt, Minnnnka.” I reach between us and carefully maneuver her legs, so instead of them being a tangled mess crushed beneath my weight, they open and wrap around my hip. Then I rest my hardened cock on her core. “See? So neglected. So sad.”
“So dramatic.” But she rolls her hips anyway, taunting me with the heat of her pussy. “You act like it’s been eons since we were last intimate.”
“It has been eons.” I grind down against her. “It’s been a day and a half. I’m dying.”
“God.” Laughing, she drops the shoe to the floor and brings her arm back up to drape over my shoulder. “I understand you’re feeling stressed right now. But a day and a half is hardly something to whine about.”
“Says you.” I look down to find her stomach already exposed. Her shirt riding up and the swell of her breasts a temptation I don’t even pretend to fight. “You’re married to me, Mayet. So I can understand if you walk through life and think, ‘ Meh, he ain’t all that . ’ But I’m married to you .” I duck in and nip at the soft skin of her belly. “And I assure you, I walk through life itching for the next moment I get to touch you.”
“You’re fishing for compliments now?” She grabs my face and drags me up, then she stares into my eyes, warming me with her gaze and swallowing my soul with every inhalation she draws. “You’re all that , .” She stretches her neck and places a kiss on my lips. “You’re everything. And you’re clearly in need of my time and attention tonight.”
“Every night.” I reach between our legs and slip my fingers past her panties. I don’t wait for her permission, and I don’t take things slow. I know her body now, probably better than I know my own. So I bury two fingers all the way to the knuckle and groan when she cries out at the delicious intrusion. “I don’t need food to survive. Or sleep. Or air. I don’t need a comfy bed or a warm apartment or any of the other shit everyone battles for every single day.”
“—”
“I just need you .” I nudge her shirt up and reveal her swollen breasts, the nipples pebbled and daring me to taste, her skin covered in goosebumps, so I know she’s hypersensitive all over. “I can live without all the rest. But the moment you become unavailable to me, it’s all over.”
“Oh God. .” She rides my hand and digs her nails into the back of my neck when I take her nipple between my lips. “Shit.”
“We’re always gonna need each other.” I add another finger, because I enjoy stretching her wide and knowing it’s all for me. “We’ll always talk when something needs to be said.”
“Yes.” She pushes the back of her head into the couch cushion, her throat thundering with her racing pulse. “I promise.”
“If we need attention, no matter what else is going on, no matter if we’re mad or sad or busy, we’re gonna take the time and be whatever we need to be to make sure the other is okay.”
“Yes!” She squirms when I slip a finger into her puckered asshole, tightening her legs and pushing her heels into my ass to gain traction. “Always.”
“So we’ll never find ourselves in a situation where a guy like Beau Fox wanders in, and you look his way, even for a second.”
Her eyes snap open, her deep brown stare boring into mine. “Don’t say his name, or anyone else’s, when we’re together like this.”
“I’m just making sure you and I are on the same page.”
“We’ve been on the same page since we committed to each other.” She reaches between us and brushes my hand away. Rejecting me, if only for a moment. But then she stands and slides her panties down her legs, and when I straighten on the couch and rest my back on the cushions, she moves to her knees and slips her hands into my sweatpants. “Lift. Help me.”
So I lift and allow her to peel the stretchy cotton down my thighs until my cock springs free, and her eyes follow the purpling head like it’s the tastiest fucking treat she’s ever seen.
“You gonna suck my cock, Mayet?” I thread my fingers in her hair and pull her closer. But it becomes so much more fun when she fights me on it, holding her posture and staring instead. “Mayet…?”
“Say please.” She licks her lips and slides her tongue across the front of her teeth. “You know we use manners around here, Detective Malone.”
I cough out an almost silent, wildly desperate laugh. But then I tighten my fingers in her hair and force her closer. “Choke on me, Mrs. Malone. I want to see tears in your eyes and the fear that you’ll never breathe again. Then I’m gonna come in your throat, and you’ll tell me thank you when it’s done.”
“So needy,” she purrs. “So bossy and controlling.”
“But you’re strong enough to take it.” I drag her closer and drop my head back when her lips part, but she uses her teeth and draws a stunned gasp from the depths of my chest.
“Seems we both wanna be in charge tonight.” She circles the head of my cock with her tongue, lapping at the shaft the way I’ve seen her lap at an ice-cream cone. “Unfortunately for you, you’re not getting what you want till I get what I want.”
“You want me to say please?” I lower my hand and pump myself, because it hurts not to. My whole fucking body stings for every second she’s on her knees and not sucking my dick. “You want me to use my manners?”
“I want you to fuck me like you don’t love me.” She grins when my hand falters. Then places her palms on my thighs and rises to her feet. She’s slow. Sultry. It’s a dance, but without the music. “I want you to make me come so hard, it almost feels like we did something wrong. I want to pretend I don’t want it, but you’ll take it anyway.”
My heart thunders. With dread, and with excited anticipation. “You’re playing with fire, Mayet. Do you forget where I come from?”
“I want to scream and kick and convince myself I didn’t agree to this, and then I want you to have me anyway. Because we’ve been through hell lately, I feel like we need to find something new and scary and so fucking good, it makes us both melt.”
“You want me to fuck you against your will?”
“Mm.” A slow smirk crosses her lips. “Consent still exists, because I’m asking for this. But I want it to feel naughty. I want you to make it so good, it feels illegal.”
“You want me to hurt you?”
“Yeah.” She takes a single step back and stops when her calves hit the coffee table. Then a step to her left. “Ready?”
“Minka…”
She’s gonna run, and I have to claim what belongs to me.
“Set.”
“Minka!” I set my hands on the couch cushions by my thighs, because although I’m trying to talk this through, my heart and my cock already know what’s coming. “This could be bad for us. If I go too far, it could hurt us. You’re testing what I was bred for.”
“Go.” She spins on her heels and sprints. So I bound up in the same breath and pump my arms in chase. I toss my shirt off on the run and shove my pants the rest of the way down in the hall, using the walls to keep my balance.
“You’re not trying very hard.” Laughing, she closes the bedroom door, only to open it again to let the cat out. But then she slams it a second time. “Geez. This isn’t what I was expecting at all, . You’re less scary than a baby kitten.”
“Open the door, Minka.” I press my forehead to the thick wood and run my fingertips along the framing. “I know you’re standing there. So turn the fuck around and let me in.”
“So gentle,” she teases. “So… submissive. I’m surprised.”
“Minka!” I bang my fist and elicit a thrilling squeal from the other side. “Open the fucking door!”
“Don’t think I will.” She taunts me with her voice, but while she speaks, I know she steps back and creates space between her and me. “This isn’t nearly as naughty as I thought it would be.”
I grab the knob and give it a jiggle, but the fucking thing doesn’t budge. So I pound on it again and tremble when she jumps. “Minka Mayet. I’m serious now. Open the fucking door for me.”
“But—”
“Game’s over. I don’t like the kind of sex game where you’re running away and I’m chasing you down. It doesn’t turn me on, and it’s not gonna end with you getting laid the way you’re asking.”
“Really?” Her tone softens and her humor dissipates. But her footsteps bring her my way, so I make sure not to shove through and trample her feet. “, I didn’t…” Hesitantly, she opens the door and looks up into my eyes. “I didn’t mean to upset you or?—”
I snag her hair with a painful yank that has her breath racing out on a yelp, then I drag her left and push the door wide so it opens the other way. “Kidding.” I pull her closer, slamming her to my chest and taking her lips with mine.
I bite.
I suckle.
I know I leave marks she’ll have to cover with makeup tomorrow. And then I push my fingers into her pussy until she jumps a half foot off the ground and screams out in pleasure and pain. “You think I’m gonna go soft because you make me hunt you down?” I release her hair and swing her around until she crashes into the wall. Pain eats at me inside, because I’ve spent every minute of every day since meeting this woman making sure not to hurt her. But she’s medicated and begging, so I pin her by the neck and crush her cheek to the plasterboard so all I see are her wild eyes and her lips swelling from my abuse.
Then I pump my fingers deep into her pussy without a single care for how much it hurts. “You think I’m gonna pass up the opportunity to fucking destroy your cunt and be who I was born to be? When you gave me permission and a promise we’d be okay after.”
“—”
“I would be insane not to take advantage of this.” I hold her by the neck and spin again, throwing her to the bed so she lands with a thud and her hair flicks across, covering her face. She’s pale with concern. Her eyes, wild and wide. But her legs are open, and she’s yet to tell me to stop.
And even if she does, she agreed that that was part of the game.
I stalk her way and tear her legs wider when her first instinct is to close them. Then I reach down and wrap my hand around my cock. It aches to touch, and throbs when I don’t. But her pussy is swollen and her clit pumps with blood.
Like a giant fucking neon sign that calls me home.
“Don’t say a single fucking word.” I press a knee to the mattress between her legs and groan when, of course, she opens her mouth to speak. “I said,” I crush my hand to her face, covering her mouth, her nose, and partially her eyes. “Not a fucking word.”
“!”
My name is a garbled mess that cuts off when I shove her to her back and pinch her lips closed. Then I cover her nose, too, cutting off her air and drawing a surprised, somewhat terrified, look to her eyes. “Rethinking your request now, Minnnka?” I spread her legs and growl when a whimper of pain rolls along her chest. But fuck, it’s pleasure, too.
I know every sound she makes. Every reaction to my touch. Every fucking muscle spasm she’s ever had was mine to document and log away for future dissection. “I need you more than I need for you to breathe.” So I yank her back until her ass sits on the tops of my thighs and her pussy is open and inviting. Waiting. Tempting. Then I move up to my knees and slam deep into her core and thrill in her scream of pain.
She desperately searches for air, twisting under my hand and biting my palm when she can’t get her way, but I rock deep into her pussy and follow her up the bed when my thrust moves her along.
“You wanted me to act like I didn’t love you.” I release her face, but then I grab her throat and smirk when her eyes turn wide like saucers. I dig my fingers in just enough to restrict her air, but fuck, there’s no situation, no mood, no level of desperation I could be stuck within that would put her at risk.
Though I didn’t know that just five minutes ago when she was asking for this.
“Ever been fucked while unconscious, Minnnka?” I shove forward and bury my cock to the hilt, groaning when her eyes roll into the back of her head and a moan feathers across her lips. “And I don’t mean when I wake you up from sleeping and make love to you before work. I mean the kind of unconscious where I put you to sleep with my hand around your throat, then bring you back, then I put you to sleep again, and keep doing that until you have no fight left in your body?”
Her heart hammers in her chest, nerves and excitement and bone-deep need warring in her veins until her pulse becomes a runaway staccato that won’t be brought under control.
“I could put you out and keep you out until I’m finished.” I pull out of her pussy, surprising her with my swift exit and cutting my pleasure off before I’m done, but then I flip her to her knees and crush her chest and face to the mattress. Then I shove forward and take more. So much fucking more. “I could get all my pleasure while you’re too oxygen deprived to enjoy it.” I reach out with my free hand and wrap it in her hair, only to jerk her to the side and smirk when she desperately drags fresh air in. “You asked for me to treat you in a way that says I don’t give a fuck about you.” I smack her ass until, instantly, my palm print marks her perfect flesh.
I might regret it tomorrow, when she’s bruised and sore and maybe even a little extra tired because of what I’ve done. But for now, regret is an emotion that sits far and away from where I am.
“This is how I fuck when I don’t worry about the person I’m with.” I open her ass cheeks wide and slap her between until she screams and her puckered asshole contracts. “Hitting is how I turn myself on. And marking your body is how I make myself come.”
I ride her like a mongrel dog rides a bitch in heat. No finesse. No care given. I don’t cross any lines, and I won’t hurt her more than a few handprints marking her skin tomorrow, but fuck if there isn’t a part of my brain reveling in the idea of coming without getting her to the same finish line.
Because that’s what men do when they don’t give a fuck about the other person.
“—”
“Shhhh. Don’t say my fucking name.” I crush her face into the mattress again and groan when her pussy flutters and squeezes my cock. “You don’t know my name. We’ve never met before.”
“God,” she moans, the word muffled by the bed.
“I’m gonna use you up till there’s nothing left.” I slip my thumb into her ass and hold my breath when she screams, because my nuts are ready to finish, but I’m not ready to make this go away. “Is my thumb too much for you?” I spit on her ass and use the moisture to smooth our way. But when she nods—it’s too much—I growl and pull it out. Only to enter her again, but with two fingers instead. “You’ll learn, Minnnka. Whatever hurts you, I’m gonna do it more. And whatever you ask for, I’m gonna give you something else.”
I almost lose myself when I consider replacing my fingers with my cock. Taking all of her and blaming it on the ‘ you told me to hurt you ’ thing. But burying my cock in her asshole takes patience. It means preparation and slow going.
Neither of us is ready for slow tonight, and I’m not willing to give up what I’ve got.
“You want more of this?” I grit my teeth and shove forward until her head bounces against the headboard. “You want me to make you cry? Where’s that toy?”
“What?” Surprised, she wrenches her head up while I lean to the left and open the drawers of her bedside table. “?”
“The one I got you at Thanksgiving.” I close the drawer, open the next, and hit the jackpot. I snag the eight-inch toy and straighten out again to study my impulse buy. It was a joke, almost, and went along with the flimsy underwear as my way of saying thanks . But now I have a new idea and permission to do whatever the fuck I want.
“Wait. ?—”
“Not gonna wait.” I pull out of her throbbing pussy and push the toy in instead, not nearly as careful as I should be, but it’s not as thick as I am, and when she cries out, it’s with pleasure, not pain. “I like using this on you. It’s kinda fun fucking you without fucking you.”
She fists the blankets in her hand. “It’s too much.”
“We’re not even close to done.” I work the toy and go as deep as the rubber will allow, ensuring to coat it liberally with her own lubrication until it slides easily. And because I’m an asshole, I continue with my fingers in her ass. “God was good to us when he put two holes so close together, don’t you think?” I pull the rubber cock out and slap her with it until her pleasure coats her thigh. Then I slide it in again and taunt her. “That was surely on purpose, don’t you think? To tempt us to test out what happens when we fill both at the same time.”
“Too much,” she weeps, scrunching the blankets and choking for air. “It’s too big, .”
“Nah, it’s not.” I pump my fingers and tease a third. Though I don’t stretch her any further. Not tonight. I’m not a complete asshole. But then I slide the toy into her cunt and stop only when the base protrudes, then I fist my cock and work the tip in beside the toy. I won’t stretch her asshole tonight, but I’ll stretch her pussy until she begs for no more. “This is gonna be a tight fit, Mayet. Get ready.”
“Wait!” She tries to skitter away, but I grab her hair and hold her down again. Just like she asked. “! That’s not gonna?—”
“It will.” I nudge in a little further and almost blow my load and ruin all our fun anyway. So I hold my breath and work through the tight squeeze. “You’ll stretch as wide as I fucking ask you to.” I rock my hips and steal a little more space inside of her. “Because you love me. Because beneath this game of pretend we don’t care about each other , you live to fucking please me. You’re a good girl, Minka Mayet. And you turn to cream when I tell you how good you are.”
“!”
“So tight.” I stare up at the ceiling and blink through the stars that flicker through my vision. “You’re choking the life out of me.”
“It’s too much.” She drops her head again and whimpers. “Too tight.”
“You were made for me.” I drag my fingers from her ass and bring them around to touch her clit. Don’t mix the front and the back. Bad. I know. But I touch only her throbbing clit and circle it until something inside her detonates. Until a scream rolls along her throat, and my cock slips another two inches into her creamy, warm depths. “There you go,” I soothe. “Look at you, making room for me like a good girl.”
“I’m gonna come.” She pants and rocks, her hips dragging me forward and back. “I’m gonna finish.”
“You’ll finish when I fucking tell you to.” I slap her clit and feel the fire in my veins when her cunt gobbles me up in response. She pulls me in and swallows me down, until I’m fucking her with two cocks, and there simply isn’t any room left. “That feels good, doesn’t it, Minnnka?” I circle her clit and thrill in the way she nods.
Wordless. Breathless. Tears rolling down her cheeks and blood pooling beneath the skin.
But she nods.
“You always please me.” I fuck her like this is all we’ll ever have, slamming into her pussy and owning her body the way she promised I could. But I grin and hold my breath to stave off my release. “Whether you argue, or do as I say, everything you do pleases me.”
“,” she cries. “I’m ready.”
“That’s why I can’t stop having you. It’s why a day and a half feels like a lifetime, and leaving you in this bed without eating your pussy feels like an opportunity wasted.” I smack her clit and groan when she squeezes me tight. “You asked me to fuck you like I don’t love you. And I tried, Minka. I swear I did. But fucking you like I do love you is a million times better.”
I pinch her clit and set her off until she explodes around me. Crushing my cock. Screaming into the mattress. Fisting the blankets and still, shoving herself backwards so she doesn’t lose a single inch.
“Fucking you so it hurts and loving you at the same time is like sniffing cocaine and eating your ass until I blow.” I grab her hips and pull her onto my cock one last time, coming on a roar that drains every muscle I possess of strength. It steals the oxygen from my lungs and the common sense from my brain. I explode deep inside and fill her with my cum until white hot semen spills onto the bed anyway.
There’s too much, and she has too little space to hold it.
She sobs into the covers, her back muscles turning taut and her ass glowing from my smacking hands.
But it’s her shouted “I love you” that makes me blow again. Her angry statement, coated in desperation and sealed with everything I want from her for the rest of our days. I want her. All of her. Her whole fucking heart and soul are to be my prisoners, and I won’t feel a single shred of remorse for taking something so precious.
“Good girl.”