Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
SETH
The only thing that still managed to ground me these days was home.
Everything outside these walls felt like it was slipping through my fingers.
And my mom’s, she’d been on one ever since that day at Dre’s old girl’s house.
I got it. I respected her feelings. But I’m not a boy anymore.
I’m a man with a family and I protect mine at all costs.
Truth is, I never wanted her to see that side of me.
The one Dre been waking up in me day by day.
But these past few weeks. They changed me and turned me into someone I barely recognized.
And every minute Dre was still breathing, just walking around like he ain't try to take something sacred from me, it did something ugly to my soul.
I walked into the bathroom and heard the shower running, steam slipping from under the door. Stormi’s voice floated out, low and soft, singing off key to Coco Jones like she was at one of her sold out concerts. That sound, it calmed me.
Stepping further into the bedroom, I found our bed already occupied by my two sleeping kings.
S3 was curled up next to Shiloh, one sock on, T-shirt bunched at his side like always.
Most nights, I’d slide in right beside them, find some space and make it work.
But not tonight. Tonight, I needed my wife.
I scooped S3 up in my arms, careful not to wake him. His head fell against my shoulder like it knew the routine. I walked him to his room and tucked him in, brushing his hair back before pressing a kiss to his forehead.
On the way out, I passed Jo in the hallway, arms full of diapers, wipes, blankets, and a bottle warmer. She was always on point.
“You got the night shift?” I asked her, nodding toward the baby gear.
“If I can beat Rich to it.” She grinned, already walking toward the nursery like she ran the whole damn house.
“I’m bringing Shiloh to you now,” I told her. “Need a night alone with my wife.”
She gave me a sideways look. “Oh, you tryna make another one tonight?”
I chuckled low. “Something like that.”
She laughed as I jogged back to our room, gently lifted my youngest son into my arms, and carried him to her.
Jo moved in after Stormi had the baby. Said she’d stay ‘til things got smooth again. At first, I was skeptical. Three strong ass women under one roof? Thought they’d burn the place down before the month was over.
But what we built here. This village it’s solid.
Real solid. A man couldn’t ask for more.
I placed Shiloh in the crib inside his never used nursery, kissed the top of his soft curls, and nodded toward the door.
“Tag Rich in if you need him,” I said.
She knew what that meant. It was code: Don’t knock. Don’t call. Don’t open the door. Tonight was for me and mines.
“This is the kind of love that keeps me up all night. This is…”
Stormi was still deep in her shower studio session by the time I stepped back into the bedroom. Her voice was soft, slightly off key, but sweet as hell.
I didn’t hesitate. I stripped out of my clothes, every layer falling to the floor without a second thought and stepped into the steam into her.
She didn’t hear me at first, not until I slipped in behind her, wrapping my arms around that waist that still made me lose focus.
I pulled her close, my chest to her back, lips pressed against her damp shoulder.
“This is what I want to do for the rest of my life,” I whispered, echoing the song as I kissed my way down her neck.
She giggled and leaned into me like she’d been waiting all day to be touched this way. Everything she’d been through lately… and she still smiled. Still held it down for me. For our boys. For everyone around her.
She turned to face me slowly, her eyes meeting mine and just like every time, I got lost in them.
“The boys are right in the room, sleep,” she said, looping her arms around my neck with that soft warning in her voice.
“Already taken care of,” I murmured, claiming her mouth with a kiss that told her exactly how much I needed her.
I wanted to be gentle. I needed to be. But the urge to feel her, reconnect, remind myself I still had peace in the middle of all this chaos it took over.
I lifted her, pressed her back gently against the shower wall, steam curling around us, water sliding down her curves. Outside of her heart, her lips were the only thing I planned to be soft with tonight.
“I love you,” I breathed against her ear, voice low and raw.
She bit her bottom lip, those big eyes heavy with the same hunger I felt. “I love you too,” she said, smiling slow and sexy.
And at that moment, nothing else mattered.
Not the war outside these walls. Not the past, not even the pain just us.
Her legs wrapped around my shoulders as my mouth found its favorite place on earth.
She tasted like everything I missed. Everything I needed.
Every reason I hadn't burned this city to the ground yet.
The second I touched her, Stormi melted into me soft, trembling, her breath catching on the edge of a moan.
I kissed around her clit first, teasing her, taking my time.
Licking slow, letting my tongue write love letters she didn’t need to read out loud.
I wasn’t just trying to make her feel good. I was trying to bring her peace.
Her hips rolled forward, thighs tightening around my face, back arching off the wall like her body couldn’t take it anymore. And still, I didn’t let her fall. I never would.
I stopped just before she came, kissing her thighs, biting gently, blowing soft air across her slickness watching her shiver. Her hand found the back of my head, fingers curling into my hair. “Seth…”
I smirked. Yeah, I missed her. Missed this. Missed being the reason she came apart. When her release finally hit, it was soft and loud a moan that told me I had my wife right where she needed to be.
She moaned, back arched, breath shattered against the steam of the shower, and I lost my mind completely. I didn’t want to be careful anymore. I didn’t want to hold back. I wanted to ruin her for anyone else not that she’d ever belong to anybody but me.
“I can’t breathe,” she whispered through a moan, and all I wanted to say was:
“I’ll breathe for you, baby. I got you.”
Because I did. In every fucked up, twisted way I had her. And she had me.
Slowly bringing her down and sliding into her slit. Every time her body pulsed around me, I swore I forgot what I was even angry about. Every war I’d been fighting outside this house faded. Every grudge. Every bullet I wanted to put in Dre’s skull. It was all noise and she was silence.
I should’ve let her breathe. Should’ve taken it slow. But I couldn’t. Not with the way her body pulled me in, like it needed me to survive. Not when I needed her like oxygen.
And when she pushed me back, dropped to her knees, and looked up at me like I was something she’d made with her own hands. I almost lost it. Scratch that, I did lose it.
“You gon' keep lookin’ at it like that?” I muttered, chest rising too fast, jaw clenched. “You tryna end me tonight?”
She didn’t answer. She just took me deep, messy, with no hesitation. Like she’d waited for this. Like she’d dreamed about it.
God, her mouth was war. And I surrendered.
“Shit, Stormi; fuck!” I cursed, barely able to keep my balance. She moaned around me, her hands holding me in place like she dared me to pull away. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to.
When I came, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t sweet. It was ugly, loud, a groan torn straight from my chest like I’d buried everything in her and it finally came out.
But she wasn’t done. She wasn’t fucking done. Still sucking. Still swallowing. Still dragging her tongue along me like she wanted to memorize the taste of what she did to me.
And she was smiling. Smiling while my knees damn near gave out.
“Yo, you crazy,” I whispered, breathless, laughing even though I meant it.
I cut the shower off with the last bit of strength I had in me, steam still thick in the air, my skin hot, breath ragged. Stormi didn’t move. Still in position, still smiling like she hadn’t just taken the soul out of my damn body and laughed while doing it.
She was trouble. My trouble. The kind I’d ruin the whole world for.
“Yeah? You think that shit funny?” I asked, voice low.
Her smirk deepened. She was proud of herself. She knew what she was doing to me.
I didn’t wait. I grabbed her fast, rough, needy and tossed her over my shoulder like the fire alarm had gone off and she was the only thing worth saving.
“You done woke him up,” I growled, carrying her through the bathroom like a man possessed.
She squealed and laughed, kicking playfully, but I wasn’t laughing. I was starving for her. Desperate to erase the time I’d spent not touching her.
Not feeling her. Not tasting her. Not losing my mind inside the only person who had ever made me feel like home.
I threw her down on the bed like a man throwing down a claim.
Her breath hitched. I climbed over her with the desperation of a man who had fought God, grief, death, and fear, and still came back to her.
My voice broke when I said, “You don’t even know what you just started. Bend over,” I commanded as I admired every inch of her thick ass body.
I didn’t just want to feel her body. I wanted to climb inside her skin and stay there.
Stormi bent over for me like she already knew I was unraveling.
She didn’t flinch. Every sound she made, every grip of the sheets, every arch of her back it set something in me on fire I couldn’t put out.
My body moved on instinct. On obsession.
On pain I couldn’t speak out loud except through her name spilling from my lips like a prayer I didn’t deserve to pray.
She was shaking, not in fear, but surrendering. Her moans weren’t cute or quiet, they were ugly, honest, and mine.
My hand was at her throat, pulling her up against me, and I kissed her trying to taste every memory, every argument, every tear we’d ever shed together.
“Look at me,” I breathed, voice ragged.
She turned her head, eyes locking with mine.
“I don’t just love you, Stormi…” I paused, gripping her tighter. “…I belong to you.”
Her lips parted like she didn’t expect that.
But it was true. Painfully true. If she left me tomorrow, I’d still wake up every day waiting for her to walk through the door.
I’d still set fire to any man that looked at her too long in a grocery store.
I’d still lay my body across a bullet to keep her safe, even if she hated me. That’s what she did to me.
I watched her chest rising, lips parted, eyes barely open from exhaustion and pleasure. My wife. My fucking wife.
I was supposed to be satisfied. I was supposed to be done. But I wasn’t. Not even close. Every second that passed where I wasn’t touching her made my skin itch. I was starving again.
And Stormi. She was the only thing that fed me. The only thing that brought me peace and chaos at the same damn time.
She collapsed on the bed, trembling, body still humming from everything I’d done to her, and I just stood there breathing like I’d ran miles.
“You thought I was done?” I asked, voice low. My hands trembled with restraint. “You thought that was enough for me?”
She smiled, that smile was gasoline and I was already on fire.
“I haven’t touched you in weeks. I haven’t tasted you. I haven’t felt you lose control around me. And now that I’ve had a taste?” I leaned close, forehead against hers. “I need more. I need all of you.”
I kissed her like I was fighting for my life. Because I was. Because she was my life.
Stormi tried to speak, maybe tease me, maybe beg me but I didn’t give her the chance. I flipped her again, slowly, she was something I owned but worshipped. I was a man who knew his limits didn’t exist when it came to her.
And when she looked back at me God. There it was that look the one that said:
Take me. Break me. Remind me I’m yours.
And I did with every thrust, every whisper I spoke and every ounce of love that looked more like obsession.
I wanted her ruined by me. Marked by me. Unrecoverable without me. This was us reclaiming something. Rebuilding what the world tried to destroy.
I gripped her hips so tight that my fingerprints would be her reminder tomorrow.
She cried out my name and I snapped completely. Losing myself in her repeatedly, until the only thing left was our breathing. She was mine. And I was gone.
“Date night this Saturday?” I asked, my voice low as I held her close, my nose buried in the curve of her neck. Her scent was soft. It was the only peace I knew these days.
She giggled softly, that lazy, sweet smile spread across her face like she was some teenager being asked out for the first time. “My husband taking me out?” she asked, eyes sparkling she knew she own every part of me.
“No kids. No family. Just me and you,” I said, kissing the edge of her jaw. “I got something special planned for you.”
She turned slightly in my arms, her fingers drawing lazy circles on my chest. “Let me check my schedule,” she teased.
I tilted her chin up and kissed her lips slow and deep... “Clear it for me,” I whispered against her mouth.
She didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. The way she looked at me, full of love and peace, said everything. So, I held her tighter. Held her like she was my salvation. Because she was.
And for the first time in weeks, I let my guard down. I closed my eyes, my wife in my arms, our sons safe and sound in the rooms just down the hall, and this house our home, finally full of warmth again. Whatever comes tomorrow, I’d face it. But tonight. I had everything.