31. Tide
Date: 5-17-2024
Time: 1732
She’s so fucking beautiful, even when she’s a pissed mess.
Keeping one hand on her waist, I open a drawer and pull out a cigar. She hasn’t signed yet but she doesn't have to. We both know I’m not letting her leave. Placing it between my lips, I nod at the lighter on the desk expectantly. Her eyes narrow and I smile around the roll of tobacco. I had planned for the combination contract to be a simple proposal to pull Dutton out and put Cordelia in her proper place long before everything went up and flames. With the way things unraveled, I’d say it was a good thing that I waited and formed a solid foundation before I handed her the idea.
She flicks the tube, and a flame illuminates her eyes as she brings it to my mouth. I don’t like smoking around the ones I love but I want her to see all of me.
“I’m hurt that you’re so angry with me, little siren.” I murmur. She rolls her eyes, leaning back against the desk as she tosses the lighter back onto the wood with a little more force than I expected. Wrong choice.
Lifting her by her waist, I set her on the edge with a low growl. She may be a little beaten, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still bring her pleasure, maybe with a bit of innocent punishment. Adrenalin can do strange things to a man. Luckily, I have the right woman this time.
“I thought you said we were going to get food.” She groans, wrapping her fingers along the edge of the desk. Pulling the cigar from my mouth, I let a thin layer of smoke drift between our bodies. A wicked grin pulls at the corner of my mouth, at the shiver that wracks her body from my fingers dipping into the waist of her pants.
“I am.”
“Caspian…” she murmurs in that fucking addicting breathless whisper as I place the stick back into my mouth and raise my hand to join the other, successfully ripping her pants down her legs to the point her arse almost falls off the desk. Her thighs clamp together as a low growl vibrates behind my cigar and my teeth sink into the wrapper making the rich tobacco coat my tongue while forcing her legs back open.
“I need a shower.”
“I’m not a picky eater. Now tell me, have you ever smoked before?” My words come out muffled with smoke forming from my lips. I hope I’ve erased any doubts in her head because if she denies me the gorgeous sight of her dripping on my desk, then I might just lose my fucking mind. She shakes her head.
Good. This’ll be fun and I can make it quick.
I draw in a deep puff while curling my finger for her to come closer. Now that I have her, I can make up for all her twisted mistakes while I fix that pretty little head of hers. By the end of it all, all she’ll be able to think about is me. That’s a lie. She’ll be able to think of her own accord, but I like to imagine it’ll only be of us. My hand curls around her jaw and I squeeze the skin forcing her lips to part as I pull her lips to mine.
My cock strains against my zipper at the sight of her, so willing and open for me, but I can take care of that later. We’re on a time crunch after all. Her mouth breaks away from mine with a cough and I curl my fingers deeper into her cheeks, feeling the grooves of her teeth through the flesh, with a shake of my head.
“Ah, ah. little siren. Hold it in your mouth until I tell you to let it out.”
I take another drag before crushing my mouth against hers, letting the smoke funnel into her cheeks until she closes her lips again.
“Hold it.” I bite out, pushing the butt between her fingers so my hands are free to wrap around her legs, holding her in place. Her thighs shimmer in the yellow hues of the room brightening her perfect tan. I drag my tongue through her slick folds. She tastes fucking amazing despite everything she’s been through. Now I’m fully convinced she is a siren. Shifting into the product of my dreams. Can such a dangerous creature be a savior?
She whimpers. The smoke funnels from her nose blurring her flushed features and hooded eyes. I love it when she's in control but not as much as when she submits. Pulling her clit into my mouth, I drag my teeth over the sensitive bundle until she's squirming and I release it with a pop.
“I didn’t say let it out. Take another.”
Her hand trembles as she brings it back to her mouth and sucks the stick until the ember glows. Groaning against her dripping cunt I imagine it's her eager mouth around my cock instead.
“Good girl.” I murmur as I dive back in, spearing my tongue into her sweet cunt, silently counting to forty-five in my head. Her hips buck while she grinds her clit against my face with her trembling thighs in my tight grasp. Her body has always responded to mine like she was fucking made for me. Adding a finger, her velvet heat clenches around the digit, urging me to add another as my tongue circles her clit.
“Breathe.” I murmur into her skin and a puff of gray falls into the air as her head tilts back with a broken moan. “Fuck, you’re going to come already, aren’t you?” I taunt, replacing my fingers with my tongue, repeating the motion until I wrap back around her clit.
Something falls from her lips, sounding like a hoarse call of my name jumbling with incoherent words. Curling my fingers, I hit the spot that has her arching her hips off the desk and those sweet whimpers fall from her mouth, bouncing off every exquisite piece of furniture in the room.
“Take one more for me, love.”
She shakes her head, so I slow my ministrations, dragging my tongue over her swollen bud at a torturous pace.
“Trust me.” I whisper, placing a gentle kiss on her thigh, then moving to the other, slowly pumping her pulsating cunt. Her hand trembles as she brings it back to her mouth, making me growl in approval. Doubling my efforts, I lap at her pussy like a starved man, wrapping my arm around her thigh until my hand is resting on her abdomen so I can feel how each muscle tenses. She’s so close. I would love to draw this out and bend her over this desk until her nails are chipping into the wood, but I’ll have to save that for another day.
“That’s it, love. Come for me.”
I quickly place my mouth to her heat, diving my tongue in with my thumb flicking at her bud just as she releases her breath with a loud cry of my name. Fucking perfect. Her legs shake and her hands move to my shoulders where the ember singes at my shirt until it breaks through and kisses at my skin. I'll gladly wear any mark she places on my flesh as long as I get to see her face screwed in pleasure and her body pulled taunt for the rest of my life. Every drop she spills onto my tongue streaks into my stubble and down my neck. Slowly, I drag my tongue through her lips, easing her off her climax as she pants for air and quickly pulls her hands away.
My shoulder’s long past numb so I don't know why she's in such a hurry now.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” She pants the words frantically pushing the cigar into the stone ashtray with uneven eyesight. Leaning back in my chair, the leather creaks below my weight as I adjust my throbbing cock in my pants.
“You know I love your marks.”
“You’re sick.”
I grin and she narrows her eyes while hopping from the desk with wobbling legs as she shifts her pants back on, not even bothering with the underwear. When will she start letting me be a gentleman for her? She throws the lace at my face and my laugh erupts. I love it when she’s mad, but I love it even more when it’s taken out on me. I place the white fabric in my drawer beside my cigars and her picture. Old habits die hard.
The door slams, pulling me from my trance and I take off at long strides to catch up. She stomps with her hand on the wall like a fawn learning how to walk. I can imagine the smoke funneling from my little siren’s ears as she storms down the corridor. Rubbing my thumb to my bottom lip with a small chuckle while she slams our quarters’ door in my face.
Someone's cranky. I wanted to be mad at her after it all, honestly, but I couldn’t. She holds my ocean in her eyes and my heart in her palms. We’re soldiers. As bad as the betrayal hurt, I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same as her. I’m trained well enough to know the way she looks at me isn’t hate. It stopped being disgusted a little while after she started staying here. I was preoccupied with her enough to lose track of where she came from, but that was my fault. I've always been able to admit to my mistakes, but she's never been one of them.
Pushing my palm against the door, the soft thump of water hitting the tiles pulls me in the direction. Someone must’ve changed their mind on the bath . I’ll make up for it tomorrow. I don’t regret a second of our time together and I never will. She’s stuck with me now, bound to fight by my side forever.
Leaning my shoulder to the door frame I slowly work off the buttons of my shirt while Cordelia groans and pulls her clothes from her skin. She ruined me long ago—tilted my world on its axis, and I’m proud to say I successfully did the same to her.
“You’re being a stalker.”
I laugh, dropping my shirt from my shoulders, standing to my full height, and working on my belt.
“Just enjoying the view, love.”
The curtain closes, breaking her form from my line of sight, the steam bellows flow over the top lip, fogging the mirror and sticking to my skin. I carelessly kick my clothes to the side because I still need to be close to her and know she’s still here, breathing the same air as me. Stepping in behind, I allow the water to stay on her body. Each wet bead trails down her skin, discoloring from the blood and grime until it swirls into the drain.
“Stop acting so tough for a bit. You’re not a soldier here.” I murmur, I’ll always adore the fire she holds, but I also need her to know sometimes it’s okay to be human. Especially when she’s in my hands. She turns her back to me, letting the steady stream wash down her face. My fingers brush against her neck, pushing her hair back until it’s flowing down her spine straighter than the usual waves I’m used to.
“Relax.”
My mouth connects with her shoulder, making her straight stance drop to a slouch. Satisfied with the quiet hum, I spend the next few moments in a healthy silence, helping wash her unruly hair. She leans her head back onto my shoulder with her eyes closed. She’s right, I’m obsessed but I still want to know every little detail that makes her. This time I’ve accepted the fact it’s not for a bigger plot, it is simply because she held me captive long before I ever did her.
“I was excited, and you took the papers from me.” She says carefully, turning her body towards mine. My eyes widen before I relax my features. She’s catching on quickly. I'm glad she’s voicing stuff now instead of potentially committing murder.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, I used my other to cup her neck and turn our bodies so the heat of the shower can brush my back while my finger strokes her bandage. It’s not my mark, but it’ll do. I just wish it was caused by my hands instead. I know we will have a rocky road ahead of us, but in the end there’s no one else I’d rather wade through the waters with.
“I'm sorry. I promise you can bury your nose in them later.” I murmur, pressing my lips against her temple. Thank God, I thrive with self-restraint because the way she’s pressed up against me has my mind reeling with all the ways I could push her against the shower wall. She trails her finger over my tattoos, and a chill runs down my spine.
“Get dressed while I finish up.”
“Food.” she groans like a starved animal and pushes off, scurrying out of the shower and hitting her second wind. Calm, cool, collected . I grip the base of my cock and turn the shower to a cooler temperature.
The torture I put myself through for this woman.
Date: 5-17-2024
Time: 1810
Music blares through my Audi A3s speakers, making my head pound enough that I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose. I’m glad to see Moe and Cordelia have the same taste in music, but they don’t have to have the bass turned up so high it rattles my rearview mirror.
I grin and slam the brakes into the parking space, so Sharkie grips the grab handle with wide eyes and Moe nearly face-plants the backseat. Good, now I can turn down the music. As expected, my little siren refuses for me to open her door and is already jumping out with wobbling legs. A flashing neon ‘Open’ sign hangs crookedly in a large window, cascading blue and red along her face as she draws my attention to her confident steps toward the run-down brick building. I would’ve loved to take her out somewhere nicer, but this is Moe's favorite.
Rushing to her side, I don’t give her the benefit of opening yet another door by herself. The smell of steak and kidney pie drifts through the opening, visibly making her eyes roll back with her deep inhale.
As we settle in the booth, I take a moment to look around while Moe and Cordelia converse over the difference in American food compared to ours. Families and older couples fill booths and small tables, smiling unaware of the bloodshed that just happened on their land. I find our way of life being kept secret is comforting. Knowing that households get to live in peace instead of panic and allow the ones who are prepared for the unknown to handle the rest.
I steal a glance at Moe across the table. He was shaken up earlier as expected but seems to have calmed since I told him we’d take whatever steps necessary to get him the closure he needs. I know he’ll be haunted for the rest of his life. As badly as I wish I could take it away, I’ll never be able to change the past. My arm rests along the back of the booth, playing with the hair at the back of Sharkie’s head. Maybe we can make this outing a tradition of sorts. Placing my free palm on my chest, I tap my fingers against the buttons, trying to calm my breathing. It’s still very fucking early in our relationship. That’s what I’m calling it. I don’t care what she says . I can’t imagine my life without her in it at this point. That in itself is scary and I'm not scared of much. I've never had a label, let alone wanted one.
“Are you even listening?”
I snap my head at my little siren as pitchers are placed in front of us. The rain has let up, but the clouds still loom over the rising moon.
“Hm?”
The table groans under her fist from the pressure she’s putting into the fork wrapped tightly in her palm. I grin. She still wants to kill me, but she won’t. The corner of her mouth tilts mischievously and her eyes soften.
“Hear that Moe? You get to name our new task force.” She purrs. I tug a strand of one of her loose curls. In return, she lifts the fork to point it at my chest.
“Best birthday gift ever.” I feel like my chest is caving in. I forgot . With everything that happened–and with what he’s had to do–the walls feel like they’re closing in around me. The waitress takes our orders, but I stay motionless, unable to force my lungs to expand. I fucking forgot.
Sharkie elbows my rib, forcing my lips to part.
“I’m so sorry, Moe I–”
“Oh, shut it, it’s okay. Imma choose the most badass name.”
Cordelia stifles a laugh, pressing her knuckles to her mouth. We’re both thinking about it, but I won’t correct him. He’s an adult now anyway. The glass plates clank against the table, each one filled with different assortments making me wonder if they just told the server to bring everything on the menu.
“Hear that? My present is badass.”
“I’ll get him a better one.”
“Highly doubt it.”
I swell with pride.
I hope it’ll always be the last word with her.