Chapter Twenty-Three – Tristan
When I’m outside of her room, I feel more like a watchdog than anything else. Like I’m guarding her—though I don’t know from what. Maybe I do it so I can be closer to her, even if she doesn’t know it. Mabel calms the storm inside me like no one else, and I cling to that calmness as hard as I possibly can.
I should be happy to no longer have the collar around my neck. The oddest thing is, I don’t even think of running. I can’t. Not when Mabel is here, not when she wants to stay here. If she stays, I stay. It’s as simple as that.
But… Mabel is going to start leaving the house. She got a job. I can’t help but worry that, eventually, someone better than me will stumble into that coffee shop and make her fall in love with them.
Stupid, I know. Even stupider because I don’t think I could ever let her go.
Imagine my surprise when Mabel comes out, finds me, and asks me what I’m doing. And then she takes my hand and leads me into her room… where she tells me she wants me to stay with her tonight. That she’s ready.
I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought a lot about it. Of course I have. I’ve wanted to make Mabel mine in every way from damn near the beginning; it’s taken great restraint on my part not to overwhelm her with the urgency nesting inside of me. But when she says she’s ready, well…
Our mouths meet, and I pick her up and set her on the bed. With just the touch of her lips on mine, everything in my body comes alive, breaking free of their shackles with a singular purpose: to drown myself in Mabel and her body.
Fuck, yes. I need her. I want her. I… I don’t think I can describe just how badly.
I lean over the side of the bed, my mouth still devouring hers as my fingers toy with the bottom hem of her shirt. I’m dying to lift it up and over her head, but a thought rises in my head, and it causes me to pull back and gaze down at her through the darkness.
Let’s be real: if I make her mine, there’s no way in hell I can be cognizant enough to pull out of her. If I’m inside, by fuck, that’s exactly where I’m going to stay. To ask me to pull out of her would be to ask a dying man to keep breathing.
Mabel must sense where my mind is at, because she whispers, “I have, um, condoms on the nightstand, if that’s what you’re—”
Condoms? Where the hell did she get condoms? I’m seconds from asking her when it comes to me on its own: Wolf got them. We made a stop before the coffee shop. At the time, I was too busy paying attention to Mabel in the backseat to give a shit about whatever it was he bought and had tucked away in a plastic bag.
I’m suspicious; I don’t trust Wolf at all. This has to be some trick. At the same time, however, I’m also not strong enough to resist Mabel’s lure, not while knowing I don’t have to worry about pulling out of her before I come or anything like that.
Ideally, I’d come inside of her with no barriers between us, but at this point, I’ll take what I can get.
My hands leave her sides. I take her face in them as I ask, “Are you sure?” The monster in me is chomping at the bit to get to her, to have her finally, after all this time, to breathe her in in a way no other man ever has.
I took her first kiss. I’ll take all of her other firsts, too—and her seconds, and thirds, and… well, you get the idea.
Mabel nods in my hands. “The most sure I’ve been about anything in my life.”
A low, hungry sound escapes me when she says that, and I respond by helping her out of her clothes as quickly as humanly possible. I need to get this girl naked so I can memorize every smooth curve of her body.
Her shirt comes off first, then her bra. Last is her pants and the panties underneath. Then, just like that, she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, completely naked. My eyes are well-adjusted to the darkness, so I’m able to see the smooth plains of her body, the dips and the curves, the way her round, perky tits rise and fall with heavy, shuddering breaths. Honestly, the only thing that would make this better is seeing her with the light on—but for our first time, the darkness is welcome.
The darkness was my home for so long. The darkness and that mask. I clung to them both like lifelines; without them, I surely wouldn’t be here today.
And if I learned anything, it’s that I’m right where I was always meant to be, here with Mabel.
I help her up to her pillow, and the moment she lays her head down I crawl on top of her and meet those sweet lips of hers again. I kiss her hard and fast as my hands roam up and down her naked body, causing her to shudder along with them. When my hands move to her chest and my fingers tweak her nipples, she moans into the kiss. If I wasn’t already raring to go, her moaning would get me there.
Pulling my mouth off hers, I run kisses down her neck, over her shoulder, and I continue trailing kisses along her collarbone, up until my mouth reaches her chest, where her tits heave with heavy anticipation.
I take a nipple into my mouth and run my tongue along it, over it, around it, pebbling it into a hard point while Mabel squirms and stifles her moans—as if she’s trying to be quiet for some ridiculous reason.
Pulling my mouth off her, I give her an order: “I want to hear you, Mabel. I want to hear every single sound you make. Don’t you dare be quiet.” As if to make sure she’ll listen to me and be loud, I massage both her tits and tweak both nipples under my thumbs.
Mabel writhes and lets out a breathy moan with a full pair of lungs behind it.
My cock twitches at the sound. Fuck, yeah, that’s what I want to hear. The noises she makes really get me going. I could survive alone on the sounds that come out of that sweet mouth.
I return my attention to her tits, paying an equal amount of time to both, never favoring one over the other. Whichever one my mouth isn’t currently on has a hand massaging it, and when I switch over, so does my hand. The sounds Mabel makes tell me what she likes most.
When it’s time to move on from her chest, I leave them each with a sloppy kiss before I continue heading down her body. I leave a line of kisses along her stomach, and I don’t stop until I reach that tempting place between her legs. My hands spread apart her thighs. Light would be good right about now so that I could see her in her full glory, but I can imagine it well enough.
The pink slits. The slickness. That tiny nub of flesh currently calling my name.
I lower myself between her legs, getting comfy. I plan on being here a long time—time enough to give her an orgasm or three, to make that tight space inside her wetter than it’s ever been.
My mouth latches onto her, and the very moment my tongue runs along the side of her clit, Mabel moans such a deep-throated sound it nearly drives me crazy. Crazier than I already am, anyway. It’s more than obvious she’s never been touched like this before, never had a mouth worshiping every part of her body—and that’s good. It means I don’t have to send anyone to an early death.
A wrong thought, a thought I shouldn’t have, but when it comes to Mabel, fuck, I just can’t help myself.
I learn what she likes—she favors the right side of her clit; her body squirms a lot more when I put my focus there. She doesn’t like a lot of pressure directly on it. Under my tongue, that nub starts to swell, and along with it comes more squirming on Mabel’s part. More moaning. More arching of her back.
Truly, once she lets herself go, it doesn’t take long at all. It’s as if her body is in tune with mine. I can play her like a fiddle, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Only I have the keys to this temple.
Mabel’s breaths come out short, in fast pants, and she tries to pull away from me, like the sensation, the pressure in her body, is suddenly too much—but I don’t let her pull away. I am unrelenting in my assault on that swollen nub, my one goal to unravel this girl.
Her thighs tighten around my head as her body spasms uncontrollably. The sound she makes as she comes is unlike all other previous moans; it’s more unchained, nothing at all holding it back. Louder, too.
Once she’s pushed off the edge, I revel in her for a few seconds, kissing her inner thigh, before I get back to work. If she thinks she’s done after one orgasm, she’s got another thing coming.
Mabel’s first orgasm paved the way for the follow-ups. She’s primed and ready, and barely takes any work on my part to make her come again. The second time she comes, her inner thighs spasm and I’m pretty sure I hear her grip the sheets around us. The third time is when I notice how hot her skin is getting; her body is on fire. The more times she comes, the more that nub swells and pulsates under my tongue.
I’m a man of patience, yes, but also a man that has waited too damn long. I run my tongue down, away from her clit, to the entrance of her pussy, and my tongue is met with her slick arousal. Her inner core is so saturated she’s started to leak.
Fuck. My cock strains against my pants. There’s never been anything hotter. Never.
Tasting her arousal is the last straw, so to speak. I can’t hold back any more. I need to get these fucking clothes off me and I need to feel her under me, around me, while I make her mine.
Oh, and put on a condom, I guess. Not too thrilled about it, but with her as the prize, I’ll do anything.
I lift myself off her and crawl over to the edge of the bed, where I strip and fumble with the box on the nightstand. The plastic wrapping around the box is enough to piss me off, but the end goal is more than enough to keep me from losing my cool. Eventually I get into the damned box, and I tear into the small package with my teeth. Once the rubber is rolled on, I return to my place above her.
I cup the side of her face, and even though I know she can’t see much of me through the darkness—she wasn’t born to it, like me—I whisper, “I’ll take care of you, Mabel. Just trust me.”
And then she says the words I already knew deep in my heart: “I do.”
The breath that comes out of me after that is haggard and rough, and I lean my forehead against hers as I position myself between her thighs. No one has ever said they trusted me before. Mabel has given me so many firsts—a smile, a laugh, defending me when she knew nothing about me, sticking with me even after she found out the full truth… and now her trust.
Fuck. I think I’m in love with this girl.
The tip of my cock prods her entrance, and then, without hesitation, I push inside of her—and just like that, my life will never be the same again.
Her body takes my cock like it was made to, fated to be mine. I plunge into her with no resistance, and even though there’s a damn condom wrapped around my length, it’s still a sensation unlike any other. My back shudders, and a low, guttural moan escapes me before I start to thrust. Mabel, for her part, inhales sharply when I enter her, but when I begin to move, she releases the breath out in a rough sigh.
The animal in me wants nothing more than to go hard and fast, to take her roughly like a beast. It’s what the Cobra would do—but here, in the dark, with our scars laid bare, we are not the same people we were before. We’ve changed, and I, for one, owe most of that to Mabel, just as I hope she owes much of it to me.
So I go slow.
I take my time. I relish in each and every thrust, moving my hips in an agonizingly slow manner. I move slow and steady, exhaling when I fill her up to the brink and taking a breath in when I retract my hips. Neither one of us is used to this. We are discovering each other, playing adventurer, learning, changing to fit with each other, our souls bare.
Her hands find my sides, and she clings to me in a way no one ever has. Eventually she starts to moan again, and the sounds she makes while I’m inside of her are practically breathed into my ear. Her moans make my balls clench and my spine shiver, a symphony of pleasure and need rolled into one.
Fuck. I need her. I need her so much more than I thought I did. If I lose her, I lose myself. If I lose Mabel… I’ll die. There will be no possible way I can continue to breathe without her. My body just won’t work. I know it.
My body moves against hers, my cock filling her up. Mabel moans under me, and I swallow up the sound greedily, needing more. I murmur, “You’re mine, Mabel. Every single part of you is mine.”
Mabel must know I need to hear it back, because she whispers hazily, “I’m yours.”
I nod against the top of her head as I bear down upon her. “You’re mine, and I am so fucking yours.”
Though I feel like exploding already, I push it down, edging myself as long as possible while I continue to make this girl mine. My movements become a little quicker, a little harder, but not overwhelmingly so; Mabel is a soft, fragile flower and I need to treat her as such. If I hold onto her with too hard a hand, she’ll break. Everything about Mabel is a lesson in patience and gentleness.
The way she holds onto me, as if I’m her life, drives me to push myself further, to make it last. First times are generally quick, but most people aren’t me. Most people haven’t been trained as an assassin their entire lives. I display the true definition of stamina.
Having her under me, knowing I’m inside her, there isn’t anything like it in the world. Nothing else could compare. I never want us to leave this bed now that I know every smooth curve on her body. I never want her out of my sight.
But that’s not what a relationship is. It’s not ownership. She is mine and I am hers, but there are no cages here—beyond the ones Wolf gives us, that is. I will not try to cage her, and Mabel won’t cage me. We are free, truly free, when we are together.
As much stamina as I have, eventually I can push it off no longer. The pleasure in me threatens to break the dam, and I plunge into Mabel with more urgency. A low moan comes from me when my eyes squeeze shut and the muscles in my lower abdomen tense up. I fill her core up completely, and my cock twitches as it releases a flood of cum into the condom.
Fuck. What I wouldn’t give to fill her pussy up with no barriers between us. Knowing that she’ll be out in public, out of my sight and out of my reach, makes me want nothing more. It would be like a part of me is always with her—but until she’s on some other form of birth control, we can’t. Neither of us are cut out to be parents just yet.
Once the heated pleasure from the orgasm subsides, I am slow in pulling out of her and even slower in taking the condom off.
Let’s just say I’m not the only one that doesn’t sleep tonight.