Forty
I couldn’t believe that Torch was here in my house, and he was holding me in his lap, his strong arms hugging me tightly, like he really didn’t hate me for what I’d done.
Could it really be this simple? Should I just have told him when he got back that day, and would we have been in this position two days ago, or would he have been too raw and broken to hear it, and handle it?
“You’re really not mad at me?” I whispered in a tiny voice, almost like a breath of air that vaguely formed words.
“I’m fucking furious, but I get why you did it. Club life is different, and you haven’t seen much of it yet, because this shit has been going on for too long. I’ll explain everything to you, I promise, but you have nothing to fear as my old lady. I mean… if that’s even what you want.”
“It is.”
I knew we’d discussed this before, and while I was open the idea, and really wanted to be with him, I hadn’t discussed the other fears I had, but was now really the time?
“Grace, last time I asked that question, you said no, so be really fucking sure, because I can’t be getting dicked around about something so important. I can’t have you running out on me the next time you get something crazy in your head, and won’t talk to me. I can’t… Jesus, I just can’t.”
Oh my poor sweet man, abandonment really was a big issue for him, and why wouldn’t it be?
“I promise, Torch. Look… I’m not proud of this, or anything else I admitted to tonight, but I’m not sure I’m comfortable with having a tattoo. That doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, or don’t want to commit to you. It’s… it’s something I never planned to do, and I’ve seen how nasty it can get when it goes wrong, and I just… you have no idea how terrifying it is to see the worst outcomes of things, and then consider doing them yourself.”
He chuckled, which turned into a laugh, then grew and ballooned into full on belly laughter. He was laughing at me for this?
“Torch!”
He held up a hand, trying to cut off his laughter, but finally gave in, and just kept laughing, and it’s true what they say about laughter being infectious, like so many other things. I found myself smiling, despite my consternation over him finding this particular thing funny at all, and from there I started to laugh with him.
I think we needed it. I think it purged the last of the awkwardness from us, and made it feel like it did before I messed everything up between us. It burned away the last of the hurt feelings, and made us feel like us again.
I turned in Torch’s lap to straddle him so I could look him in the eye, so relieved to see that familiar smirk on his face. He no longer looked so burdened by everything that had happened, and I was proud to be the one who made him look that way.
“I’m sorry for making you believe I don’t want you, or wouldn’t be in this with you completely and always. I have my issues as you know,” I gestured around the perfectly tidy room, “and I don’t always make the best decisions. You’re not one of the bad decisions though, Torch. You’re the best one I’ve ever made. I’m afraid of having a tattoo, and I should have just told you that. I called the police to try and put an end to the situation at the club, and keep you safe, and again, I should have just told you, and dealt with it like a grown up. Sometimes I don’t feel so adult, I’m afraid. Decisions are stressful, and knowing the right thing isn’t always that easy for me, not because I’m a bad person, but because I have no confidence in myself, and my wants or needs.”
Torch cupped his hands around my face and leaned closer.
“I like your wants and needs, babe, I just need you to be honest with me, and never run. If you’re not happy, you tell me. If you need something I’m not giving you, you tell me. If you need a break from me, or the club, just fucking tell me, okay? I’m not an asshole, but I can’t lose you, and if that means I have to work around issues you have, just like you work around mine, then that’s what I’ll do, and if you do run, I’ll hunt you down because you’re mine, and I can’t live without you. If any of that freaks you out, I’m sorry, but that’s me. Too many people have left me in my life, and you can’t be one of them. Wearing my ink ensures you won’t.”
Oh god. “You’re going to make me have the tattoo, aren’t you?”
He grinned widely.
“I want you to bear it for me, yeah, but I’ll make it worth it with so many fucking orgasms, that you’ll only ever see it as a positive thing. And you’re a doctor, so you know the best way to keep it safe until it heals, and I’m a tatted biker, so I do too. So I’ll ask again…” He cleared his throat, and the grin dropped from his face. “Are you my old lady?”
Everything else dropped from my mind, because only one thing mattered. Only one answer mattered, and we both knew it. I nodded, as I very solemnly said, “yes, Torch. I’m your old lady.” And then I threw myself at him.
Torch
T hank fuck she was back in my arms, and this time she wasn’t getting away from me. I didn’t care what crazy shit she happened to get into her head next time. I’d fucking track her down anywhere, and bring her back to me. I’d allowed her this one fucking escape, but that was it, as far as I was concerned.
I pulled back from her kisses and took a breath, which I really fucking needed, because she hadn’t been taking time to breathe in between them.
“I want you upstairs right now, Grace. I really need to fuck all your holes, don’t ya think?”
Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard.
“Um… even the uh…”
“Come on now, doc. You know the words for all the parts. Which one am I planning on breaching tonight?” She visibly gulped, as she lowered her eyes.
“What if I can’t?”
I grinned at her, pressing my thumb over her lips to shut her up.
“Can’t or won’t, baby? Isn’t it up to me which holes I fuck? You’re just my fucking cumslut, right?”
She shuddered at my words, her eyes drifting closed, but I could see she was still conflicted.
“You scared I’ll hurt you, like, really hurt you, babe? Talk to me. Nothing happens unless you consent to it. If you want your ass to stay virgin and unloved, that’s okay. If you let me fuck it, you know I’ll go slow, and make it feel amazing, but I’ll be calling you my fucking whore the entire time, just like you want me to.”
Grace reached up, catching my hand and holding it, as she lifted her head up just enough to speak, but keep connected with me.
“I’ve worked in the emergency department, Torch. You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen, and the damage men do to their partners when they’re taking them anally. I’ve seen the pain, and the shame, and the long term implications of that. I guess I’m just afraid of it going wrong.”
She was getting in her head again, and she usually needed me to get her back out of it.
“’Taking them anally’… god I love it when you talk dirty to me, baby.” She giggled, pulling my thumb back to her lips and sucking it into her mouth. I’d never force her into something she wasn’t comfortable with, well, except that fucking tattoo that proves she’s mine, but I’m pretty sure she’d fucking love me taking her ass, because it’d make her feel even more owned, and used, and degraded. That’s what she gets off on, after all.
“I’ve done anal before. I know how to prep the ass first, and I know how to go slow and gentle, babe. I’d never push you into it, but if you trust me with this, you know I won’t let you down. I’m all about using and abusing you, but not literally ‘abusing’, yeah?”
Grace nodded slowly, but that frown was still right there.
“You probably don’t even have lube, right?” Her head shook slowly from side to side. Yeah, that’s what I thought.
“Okay, we’re going upstairs so I can take those other two slutty holes of yours, but I’m gonna play with your asshole, and you’re going to fucking take it. I won’t fuck it, not without lube, but, babe?”
She fixed those brown eyes on me, waiting for me to drop whatever the fuck I was about to say, so I let her have it.
“I will be fucking that sweet untouched ass of yours very soon, and I’ll make you cum so hard you’ll beg me to do it again, and again. You’ll become my little fucking anal slut, and you’ll forget you ever had these worries.”
Grace released my thumb on a ragged breath, and pushed my hand down onto her breast.
“Don’t you want to fuck, or are you going to keep talking at me, Torch?” This fucking woman. I sat up, pushing her down onto the floor on her knees.
“Why don’t we start by stuffing that sassy fucking mouth of yours, huh? Make you think twice about giving me all that lip.”
She giggled breathlessly, reaching for my jeans, but I slapped her hands away.
“Did I give you permission to fucking touch me? Open your mouth and wait for my cock, bitch. That’s all you’re good for right now. Giving me a wet hole to fuck.” She practically moaned in response, licking her lips briefly before her mouth dropped open as commanded.
I wasted no time freeing my aching cock from my jeans, and sitting forward on the chair to drive my cock between her lips, ruthlessly pushing in deeper and deeper, until she made a choking sound.
“Did I say you could breathe?” She squirmed a little, her eyes rolling back as she stopped trying to move back. Finally, she was letting me take control, and getting what she needed from me. Ruthless, degrading fucking, starting with that soft throat of hers.