Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
DEREK
The sex with Amelia wore me out, and lured me to sleep until my demons came hunting me.
I couldn’t sleep any longer.
Every time I closed my eyes, I was back in that basement, slowly suffocating and fading into oblivion. I didn’t want to imagine hurting her if the nightmares got out of hand. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did.
The only way I knew how to blow off steam was to hit the home gym, take a cold shower, and pop up early in the kitchen to make early breakfast before she woke up.
The last of the pancakes and bacon were still on the stove when I felt her presence in the kitchen with me. She glided in like she materialized out of my deepest, darkest desires, clad in nothing but my shirt.
Her blue eyes were sparkling and sultry, and the flush on her cheeks? Fucking perfect.
She looked like a vision.
My vision.
"Hey," she walked up to me, planting a soft kiss on my lips. I deepened the kiss, cupping one of her plump buns, and releasing with a resounding smack that made her giggle against my lips.
"You are the only thing I want to keep seeing when I wake up in the morning," I murmured.
She fought back a smile, wrapping her arms around me. Her head landed softly on my chest. The little action was comforting at best, loosening me up. Her frame flushed against my chest, delicate and perfect like she was meant to be there.
"I thought you’d sleep in more." I kissed her hair.
She grumbled in disapproval, "Ugh, no. I never sleep in. I’m an early riser."
"Are you sure you don’t want to get back in bed?" I flashed her a flirty smirk. "We were up all night. You must be sore and exhausted."
She looked thoroughly fucked. It made me grin that it was my handiwork.
She threw me a playful glare, "Whose fault is it?"
I laughed, kissing her nose.
Her eyes locked on mine, warm and tender. "You are so beautiful when you laugh."
Amelia wasn’t just like an anchor to me. Being with her was redeeming, slowly handing me back all the things I thought I had lost, piece by piece.
"You didn’t sleep all night." She raised the observation softly, casually stealing the air from my lungs. "You kept tossing and turning all night."
My body stiffened, the calm from earlier slowly replaced by severe agitation.
I wanted to look away from her, to come up with a convincing lie.
Her palm gently cupped my face, steadying me. "Don’t shut me out."
"It was the nightmare again, wasn’t it?"
I slowly nodded.
Her eyes dimmed with pain, but beyond that, I could see how much she was holding back, preventing herself from stepping on the wrong nerves.
"You are going to have to talk about it, baby." She whispered, wrapping her arms around me. Her choice of pet name cracked something open in me. "You can’t keep it all bottled in. Running away from it will only continue to give it power."
My jaw tightened at the thought of reliving one of the darkest moments of my life. But most of all, I was terrified that once I shed the mask, she might not like what she’d see.
I kissed her. "You might not like what you see."
"I don’t care," she murmured. "Tell me, everything."
I lifted her on the countertop, nestling myself between her legs.
"I didn’t grow up with all the luxury in the world.
I lived like a pauper. I didn’t know who my parents were, and the shitty orphanage I was stuck in, I was constantly maltreated and bullied," I dragged out a painful sigh.
She cupped my face gently, and I grabbed onto her wrist, leaning into her touch.
"When I eventually got adopted, I thought things would be better but my foster parents were horrible. I bounced from one foster home to another, each one worse than the last. My last foster father was a miserable, abusive drunk who took out his frustrations on me. He’d hit me, lock me in the basement for days and leave me to starve whenever I did something wrong.
" My chest constricted harshly at the memory.
"You can’t do anything right, you miserable brat."
"Do you know what happens to clumsy fuckers like you? They get locked up in the basement until they learn."
"Look at me," Amelia tugged me back to reality, "He’s not here anymore. He can’t hurt you anymore."
I slowly nodded.
"You can stop if it's too much to process."
"No," I breathed. "I have to get it out, remember?"
"I couldn’t keep up with his abuse any longer, so one day, he tried to hit me, but I shoved him really hard and ran out of the house.
I didn’t know if he was still breathing or alive.
If you ask me—" my dark gaze held hers hostage.
"I didn’t give a shit if he lived or not. I just wanted to escape his clutches."
Her lips trembled, her blue eyes glistening with tears.
"I was exposed to the dark, cruel reality of the streets, dabbling into all sorts of fraudulent and illegal activities to survive.
I had already lost hope in the existence of redemption, until I met your dad.
I saved him from some menace who wanted to harm him in the slums, and he took a liking to me.
" I could still remember it like it was yesterday.
"Maybe he saved me because I reminded him of his younger self. "
She smiled through her tears. "He always told me how he created everything he had from nothing. He didn’t have the easiest life growing up."
"Your father took me out of the slums and handed me a better life. I’ll forever be grateful to him for that. He made me everything I am today. I’ll forever be grateful to him for that."
"I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that." Her voice trembled.
She wrapped her arms around me, drawing me in for a hug.
"You didn’t deserve any of it." She murmured, kissing my cheek. Then, she glanced at me, wanting me to know that she saw me, for what and who I was. "But you never have to be that way, or be alone ever again."
I knew she meant every word she said.
"Come here," she planted a chaste kiss on my lips.
I melted into her, my muscles tightening with need, the need to have her, to claim her.
I captured her lips greedily, eliciting a loud, desperate moan from her. Her legs clasped around me in return, but when I slipped a finger underneath her shirt, she grabbed onto my hand to stop me.
"Not yet," she smirked.
She hopped off the counter, getting on her knees before me.
"Fuck, Amelia." I grunted, watching her undo my drawstrings like the tease she was.
She whipped out my meat, hard and throbbing for her.
"Can I play with your joystick, daddy?" she gazed up at me beneath her thick, dark lashes, her eyes thick with lust.
I cupped the back of her head, stroking her scalp.
"Such a good little slut with manners," I murmured huskily.
Her cheeks reddened at the compliment.
My sugarplum was so fucking beautiful, so perfect and all mine.
She thrusted my meat into her mouth, effortlessly, eliciting a groan from me. Her delicate fingers reached for my thighs, grabbing onto them for support as she bobbed her head back and forth.
"You have such a wicked little mouth, Sugarplum." I fisted her hair in me grip.
She was deep-throating me unapologetically, and fuck, it was driving me nuts. Her blue eyes glanced up at me, thick with submission and desire. She kept her eyes on me like she was letting me know that I had all of her.
Her tiny moans and whimpers locked me in a chokehold.
"Fuck, Amelia," I grunted.
She ran my tongue over the length of my wacky wand, dragging her teeth against the tip to tease me, and then, she took me in again, pumping my willy in and out of her mouth.
My eyes rolled back in their sockets, my jaw locking tight with pleasure.
I seized control of the situation, tightening my grip on her hair as I fucked her mouth relentlessly. Her whimpers grew more desperate, tears building up in her blue eyes. They glistened with arousal, slowly undoing me with every second that ticked by her.
My favorite thing in the world is to have Amelia on her knees with my meat in her mouth.
My thrusts were hitting the back of her throat, triggering her gag reflex until tears were streaming down her face and her eyelids were almost closing.
"That’s my girl," she released my pocket pud with a loud pop, letting out an erotic moan as it glided against her face. She cupped my balls, massaging them as I shoved my package back into her mouth.
My submissive little slut.
"Damnit, Sugarplum. I’m going to frost your dirty little mouth." I growled.
She whimpered in agreement.
My willy thickened in her mouth, my muscles locking tightly as I shot loads of my frosting into her mouth.
The corner of her mouth dripped with thick, warm frosting, which I gathered and pushed back into her mouth.
A satisfied smile lit up her face, and she bit her lips, rising to her feet. She hopped on the countertop, seductively bunching up her legs until they were hanging on the edge, spreading her throbbing special flower in my face.
She was dripping wet with arousal, eager and needy for me.
She dug her fingers into her hair, biting her lip, "I want you to ruin me with your willy, daddy. My hard drive needs to be defragged."
My jaw locked tightly with frustration. No matter how many times I have had her, it’d never be enough. She was the wildest, maddest addiction that I was hung up on.
Amelia squealed softly when I grabbed her face, pressing a hard, heated kiss to her lips.
I cupped her dripping beaver, spanking it hard.
"Oh, yes, daddy!"
Her eyes flamed with desire. "I want to be used. I want you to jam your fleshy meat stick inside of my special honey pot. I don’t want you to hold back,"
My grip found her throat, my lips brushing hers softly. "When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to use your legs for days."
"I’d love that," she giggled.
I yanked her into me by her legs, throwing them over my shoulders, so that my pleasure pump could marry her Taco perfectly.
A breathy moan broke out of her. "Oh, I love your huge crème machine, daddy."
"It fills you up real good, huh?"
"Yes—fuck, yes," she cupped the back of my head, fisting onto my hair as I slammed into her.
The position paved way for my deeper, mind-shattering thrusts that left her a sobbing and whimpering mess on the counter.
Amelia was so fucking responsive to me, and my pleasure pump derived joy in relearning her beautiful body all over again. It left me fucking consumed and obsessed.
"Ah—ah, yes!"
"Take it all," I grunted, "it’s all yours,"
I grabbed onto her legs that were locked tightly around my neck, pounding into her relentlessly. I gathered her hair in my palm, sucking on her neck as she shattered beneath me under the weight of my deep, punishing strokes.
"Oh, it’s so good—so good, daddy,"
"No one fucks you better than daddy does, isn’t it?" I murmured against her lips.
"No one,"
Her face was sweaty. Her hair was sticking to the skin of her face and her blue eyes were shining with tears of sheer pleasure.
She was delirious from the stimulation.
"Don’t—don’t stop!"
"Right here?"
"Yes, there—fuck, right there."
She was a squealing, sobbing mess, scratching repeatedly at my back in her desperate need to hold on to something.
"Your tightness," I slammed into her again, "it drives me crazy,"
"Who do you belong to?"
"You, daddy." She moaned.
"I want to hear you say my name."
"I’m all yours, Derek."
"Good girl," I murmured, reaching beneath her to tease her sensitive scroll wheel. She let out a long, throaty moan, falling apart in my arms.
I fucked her through her release, frosting her flower when I found my release.
We were both exhausted and sweaty, but we clung to each other.
I gently lifted her legs off my neck, kissing her softly.
"You okay?" I whispered.
She smiled, exhausted. "I’m fine. I’m perfect."
"Everything is perfect, as long as you don’t go back to being a first class jerk anymore." She faked a frown.
I chuckled, kissing her forehead.
"Never," I murmured, "I promise."