Twenty-Five Proof
Sienna
Nope, definitely not.
I wake to the startling sound of my front door opening and panic, wondering if I forgot to lock it.
I never forget.
But the sound of footsteps confirm someone’s here, and since it’s three am, I can’t imagine it’s anyone good.
Scrambling for my phone, I get it unlocked and have 9-1 dialed before my door flies open and Osiris himself steps through. He got a haircut on the sides that makes his scar standout more, his face is scruffier than I’ve ever seen it, and he’s got a new, shiny red tattoo on his neck that I can’t quite make out from here, but it’s the look in his eyes that has me frozen. “Put the phone down, Sienna.”
Fuck.
My heart seizes in my chest as I consider hitting that final 1 and praying it rings enough times for the cops to come looking before Si hangs it up for me, but he’s looking at me right now like he might actually kill me.
I drop the phone.
“Good girl. Glad to see it still works.” His gaze never wavers as he slowly moves around the bed to close the distance. “You happen to lose my number, beautiful?”
The hunger I’ve craved is back in his eyes, but it’s much darker now. What the hell did they tell him?
“No. Did you lose mine?”
“Nope. Stared at it every single day, but I’m not the one that told you to go away. Did you stare at my phone number as many times as I’ve stared at yours?”
I can’t possibly answer that without knowing how many times he’s looked at it, but something tells me he doesn’t want a realistic answer — so I don’t give him one at all. “This is your solution? Breaking into my house in the middle of the night and threatening me?”
Holding out his hand, my spare house key dangles from his finger for a brief second before it disappears into his jean pocket. “Didn’t break anything nor did I threaten you. I’m here because you’re mine, and I’m done with the distance bullshit. I gave you space, and I didn’t so much as look at another woman while we were apart because I belong to you all the same. Now it’s time for you to admit it.”
He doesn’t wait for me to respond. His mouth crashes to mine hard, stealing my breath and any argument I might’ve had on my tongue. It feels too good to have this back, to feel him, smell him — gods, he still smells the same — but I’m not stupid. Nor am I his whore. “Si,” I rush out, but he silences me with another almost brutal kiss. I bite his lip hard enough to draw blood, then try again. “Osiris.”
With a growl he climbs onto the bed to pin me down. “Sienna.”
Shit. The sound of his voice goes straight to my clit, but I have to stay focused. “This doesn’t mean anything.”
The sideways smirk on his face has my legs spreading all on their fucking own. “Keep telling yourself that, baby.”
His lips crash to mine again, and I don’t have it in me to fight him anymore. If he doesn’t want to listen, that’s his problem. The desire coiling in my gut as he slips his tongue into my mouth makes everything else fade away.
He moans, hands rushing down to push at my panties like he’s scared I’m going to try and deny him again, and I’m too curious not to. I want this, but he doesn’t need to know that.
Closing my legs, I try to roll over and grab my phone again, but he’s faster than me. Before I can blink it’s being shoved off the nightstand and onto the floor, and his fingers are dipping inside and finding me soaked. “Fuck, I missed you.”
Fuck, I really missed him too. Twitching, I grind up to chase the feeling and sink back against the pillow, giving in. It’s been too long. “So prove it,” I mutter. “Fucking prove it.”
“I plan on it.” He tugs so hard my panties snap off of me, and then his teeth find my skin when he plunges those fingers back inside me. “Tell me no one touched you, woman. Say it.”
His words are heavy with desperation, so much so that I consider lying to hurt him the way he hurt me.
But I can’t.
“No one touched me.”
“Thank fuck,” he breathes, sitting up to pull off his shirt, and with him on his knees before me I can see how hard he is. “Fucking need you. Don’t tell me no.”
His pants are off before I can even consider it, but I’m past that point either way. I need him. I don’t say anything at all as I pull him down into another heated kiss and wrap my hand around his cock, stroking it as the head slides along my clit.
“Fuck,” he whispers shakily, eyes closing tight like just the feel of my hand is enough to make him blow. “Dying for you, Sienna. God fucking damnit.”
He shoves my hand away and plunges himself deep inside me, stealing my breath. His fingers weren’t enough to prepare me. “Si!” I gasp, digging my nails into his biceps. “Slow down!”
“ Leave. Go away. Slow down. When are you going to accept that you were made for me?”
He snaps his hips harder, one hand wrapping around my throat to pin me there and make me take it. My head swims as each brutal thrust takes me a little higher, a little further away from reality. He’s not the convicted murder who has been stalking me right now — he’s just a man who knows my body better than I do.
One swipe of his thumb over my clit has me orgasming so hard, I see stars, and the grin it elicits is one that’s been haunting my dreams. I hate how much I missed him. “That’s my girl. Pussy is fucking soaked for me.” He slows, grinding so deep inside it takes my breath away, but all that does is spur him on even more.
It’s overwhelming. He’s overwhelming. His strength, his intensity, having him here again when I thought it was over... thinking I’d lost him before we ever had a chance to figure things out. All the back and forth emotions, the uncertainty.
I can’t take it.
Grabbing the back of his neck, I hold his forehead to mine as he bends me in half. “I think I hate you.”
Osiris huffs like I didn’t just say what I said, or at the very least, he doesn’t believe I meant it. “That’s okay, baby. You’ll love me again soon.”
He kisses me again, slower this time, making me feel the truth behind those words. I’m not sure I even hate him now, but there’s too much chaos in my chest to know the difference.
“Si...”
He stills, biting a trail down my chin, neck, and chest until he’s sliding out of me. He doesn’t stop nipping my skin until his mouth is lined with my pussy, and then he leans in and bites me there too with a growl that tells me he held back. There’s a piece of him that wants to hurt me, and can I blame him? A piece of me wants to hurt him too.
Maybe this is the safest place for us to do that.
“Do it,” I whisper. “Take it out on me.”
He slaps my clit so hard it completely takes my breath away, and before I can catch it he’s diving in to eat my pussy like he’s angry at it.
His hands grip my thighs to pin them down hard, fingers digging into my skin and leaving dotted bruises underneath them.
I’d squirm if I could move at all.
The feral way his tongue moves and teeth scrape is overwhelming to the point where it doesn’t even feel good — not in the way I’m used to, anyway — but something about knowing why he’s like this and his absolute inability to stay away from me has me dripping and whimpering his name like it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.
When his left hand suddenly falls over my face to cover my nose and mouth, my eyes widen in shock, but the lack of air, control, and power combine to unravel me.
I soak his tongue, grinding on his face like I’ll die if I don’t get more.
The second I slump against the mattress, Si moves slightly to bite and mark my inner thighs as his, leaving his signature behind like he knows I’m going to kick him out after. Before I know it, he’s slamming back inside of me with a groan.
There’s nothing soft about the way he fucks me. Nothing soft about the angry growls he’s letting out or the way he’s holding me down. But there is a level of passion there unlike anything I’ve ever experienced — so much so that I’m almost disappointed when he slams inside to fill me up with a frustrated grunt.
With all of his energy zapped, he lays down on top of me to catch his breath, his cock throbbing every few seconds to remind me he’s pumping me full, and of the fact that he needed this as much as I did.
But now I don’t know what to do. My inner need for intimacy after sex like that makes me want to keep him here all night, but what kind of precedent does that set? He’s still proving he doesn’t give a shit about my boundaries. He still doesn’t understand why I was upset in the first place. He's just here to take, and I’m not sure I have anything left I’m willing to give.
“Where are you staying?” I whisper.
He sits up so fast I know the afterglow is gone, especially when I see his frown. “Are you kicking me out?”
Well, I guess I can cut straight to it. “You don’t live here, Osiris.”
“You’re gonna say that with a straight face while I’m still inside of you?” There’s a brief moment where pain flashes across his face, but it’s gone before I can even feel bad about it. “Were you happy I was gone?”
Always with the loaded fucking questions. “I can’t answer that.”
“Exactly,” he replies darkly, his face leaning in so close his nose presses to my cheek. “You can’t answer it because you don’t want to admit you wanted me home. You want to know where I’m staying? Right here with my woman.”
A strange tingle works its way down my spine when I realize he’s serious. He’s not going to leave, because where would he go? Back to the Winchesters’? I doubt it. Back to Idaho? I doubt he has the money. There’s nowhere for him to go but right here, which means I just became the prisoner. Not him. “And what if I say no?”
“You won’t.” There’s a challenge in his dark eyes that makes me want to deny him right here, but he leans in to press soft kisses along my cheek before I can. “Let me show you true devotion.”
It’s becoming clear that there’s a fine line between true devotion and outright psychosis, but where I expect to feel fear, all I feel is... relief.