Forty-One
I ’d missed him so much, and even though it wasn’t just the sex stuff that I’d missed, it was a big part of things with us, because he could give me what I needed. He seemed to instinctively know what was going on in my head, and how he could help. It was that connection that I craved, the way he could cause my mind to disconnect, so that our bodies did the talking.
His fingers were tight in my hair, and my throat was full of his cock, but I didn’t feel used and abused, I felt loved. For anyone who doesn’t get it, guess what, your kinks are different than mine. This is what I need from him, and I’ve never trusted anyone to do it until him, because something about him put me at ease, and told me I was safe with him.
After weeks of treating him in the hospital, I’d learned a lot about the person he was, in those guarded moments when he thought I couldn’t see through the banter, and the flirting. He was nothing like Micro, and I knew that from the moment I found out who the bad guy even was. It was never Torch, no matter how he might see himself sometimes.
I couldn’t breathe, and at times, I honestly thought I’d pass out from lack of air, when Torch kept choking me with his cock, but it was making me so wet, I was practically soaking my clothes. He suddenly pulled back, his cock sliding wetly over my lips and bouncing free, trailing drool down my chin.
“You think I’m gonna waste my cum down that worthless throat of yours? Get up, go to your bedroom, and get fucking undressed. If you’re not naked, and spread out on your bed like a fucking sacrifice, when I get up there, I’ll make you watch me jerk off, and I won’t let you cum at all.”
Yikes! I scrambled to my feet, and ran, tearing off clothes and dropping them as I approached my bedroom, throwing my naked ass on my bed, and laying spread-eagled and waiting for him.
I could hear his chuckles as he approached my door, and stepped in to lean against the frame.
“Well, someone’s eager. You made a right mess on your way up here. Not just clothes, but drool, and probably desperate pussy juices all over the damn place.” Oh god . I sat up, as horror rippled through me, but he just shook his head at me. He was just mouthing off at me, but still, maybe don’t try to get me horny while you remind me that I threw clothes everywhere like a whore. I am though, his whore, so why isn’t he fucking me yet?
“Beg me,” Torch said as he approached the bed, removing his cut and folding it neatly, setting it on the chest of drawers as he passed it. He lifted his t-shirt off next, and dropped it on the floor, out of my eyeline. I clenched my fists, as I fought the urge to get up and tidy it.
“Leave it. I’m not hearing that fucking begging though, slut. What part of ‘beg me’ don’t you fucking get? You think you just get all this , without showing me how fucking desperate you are for it?” He gestured to himself, before he shoved his jeans down, baring himself in one swift move.
“Please, Torch, please fuck me. Please give me that beautiful cock!”
Torch laughed, despite the gruff demeanour, shaking his head at me.
“He’s not beautiful, babe. He’s handsome, well, actually, I don’t think either word applies, if I’m honest. Cocks weren’t made to look pretty, were they?”
I giggled, sitting up to reach for him, my legs still spread like he demanded, hoping he’ll take pity on me, and fuck me hard, like he always does.
“Babe, you’re my slut, say it.”
“I’m your slut, Torch.”
“That’s good, almost like you can follow instructions, huh? Tell me where you want my cock.” Oh .
“My… my vagina.” He snorted at the word, and shook his head.
“Be more graphic than that, babe. This isn’t a fucking sex ed class, yeah? Where do you want my fucking cock?” He knew I’d struggle to say it, but just like he was forcing me to ignore the mess we’d made, he was pushing me to do this. Pushing my limits, and my boundaries, just like I wanted him to.
“My uh… my p… my pussy,” I practically whispered, and he laughed, as he pushed me back, and climbed up on me.
“Almost, babe. Say ‘fuck my slutty pussy’, go on. You want it, you ask for it.” Damn him.
“Torch, please, can we just-”
“You want my cock in it, you should be able to say it, babe. You’re gonna be around the clubhouse enough that you’ll hear every damn colourful word you can imagine. Better you get used to this stuff when it’s just us, so fucking say it, or I’ll just fuck these luscious tits, and I’ll cover your face with cum, and make you sleep like it.” Stop getting hornier when he says stuff like that! Ha, as if.
“Please fuck my slutty pussy, Torch, please!”
“That’s my little cumslut,” he whispered, ramming deep inside me, and pushing all of the air from my lungs in that one sharp thrust.
“God, yes!” I hissed out, finding his hand over my mouth a split second later.
“You’re gonna say another man’s name in bed, you’re not allowed to fucking speak.”
Another ruthless thrust into me, and my teeth sank into his fingers, earning me a wide grin in response.
“That’s my little fucking firecracker. Let’s see if we can make you scream when you cum.”
Torch
I succeeded, and when she came so hard, she took me with her, because you try holding back, when there’s a tight wet pussy squeezing down on your cock like that. I pulled out and lay us beside each other, pulling her covers up over her to keep her warm. She seemed to have conveniently forgotten any of the mess from earlier, so I was glad to see her so relaxed and settled. Calm. At peace, even.
We’d resolved our shit tonight, but there were still things to discuss, and more things to plan, but for now, we could just enjoy being together.
“I’m sorry, by the way, about Micro, I mean,” Grace whispered, starting my brain whirring again, when I’d just managed to ease it for a bit.
“Not your fault. I told you, I’m cool about you making the call, and Lissa did too. Maybe it was even the right call. We don’t need to speak about it again.”
Grace kissed my shoulder, snuggling into my neck.
“I meant that I’m sorry he’s dead. I know that must be really hard to deal with, even after what he did.”
Fuck. I sighed, wishing I didn’t have to fucking say this right now, because then we’d both be unsettled again.
“I’m not so sure he is, babe.”
“What?” She’d lifted her head to stare at me with a frown. Really should have turned the fucking light off before we got comfy.
“Torch, what do you mean?” I shrugged free of her, and got up to gather up our clothes and tidy them. Jesus, now she’s got me doing it.
“I’m gonna grab a glass of water, you want anything?”
“Torch, dammit.”
She followed me, padding naked behind me as I headed back downstairs, and into the kitchen. This place looked much better with her naked body walking around in it.
“He disappeared. He crashed the van he stole when he ran from us, and when it rolled down the hill, he either escaped or was thrown clear. There’s no body, babe. The police are looking, and we’re looking, but if there was one, I think someone would have found it by now.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, glancing over her shoulder, like he’d be waiting in the fucking shadows for her.
“Stop that, babe. Whether he’s alive or not, he’s not coming here. He’ll be running, or he’s dying somewhere, but he’s not going to risk coming back. You’re safe now. We all are, and if anyone sees his face again, he won’t survive that.”
“But as long as we don’t know-”
“We’re going to act like he’s gone for good, because we can’t live in limbo anymore.” I grabbed her and wrapped my arms around her, trying to warm her chilled skin with mine.
“Grace, we’re going to fucking live, rather than tiptoeing around and running from shadows, okay? As far as we’re concerned, Micro is dead and gone. Good riddance to him.”
If I said it enough times, maybe I’d believe it. How could I still not hate him for everything he did? Maybe he wasn’t the defective one out of us. Maybe it was me, and maybe it always had been.