27. Drake #2
Though I couldn’t help but ask myself, why had it been so easy for Douglas to plant that in her head? How in any dimension could Helen question that I would fight through hell for her?
The answer struck me like a metal bat to the side of the head.
“Helen.” I tangled my fingers in the back of her hair, cradling her head in my palm.
She sniffled and blinked at me through her slowing tears.
“I was so scared. I need you to know that—that I was terrified beyond reason. Coming home to find you gone was the worst pain I’d ever felt in my life.
I feared that I’d never get to tell you how I feel about you. ”
“Drake.” Her breath hitched and her pillowy lips slightly parted. My eyes briefly dipped to them before roving back to her glistening, shining blue eyes. God, I would drown myself in them if she let me.
“I thought I would never get the chance to tell you that I love you.” Her fingers tightened on my shirt, almost as if trying to pull me closer. And I finally, finally admitted, “I never stopped loving you. Because it’s you, Monty. It’s always been you.”
“Drake,” she sighed, physically trembling in my lap.
A surge of energy coursed through me, and the words began spilling from my mouth.
“It was tearing me apart. I was so fucking worried. I wanted to tear everyone and everything apart, to burn it all to the ground without you. I’ve loved since I was a stupid, cruel little boy.
I loved you when I was a troubled teen. I longed for you, missed you, when I was a man adrift in a world of violence.
And God, I love you more than I did a decade ago, but not nearly as much as I’ll love you in the next one.
Every day, I love you more and more. Even when I think there’s no way I could, I do.
It’s never ending. It’s madness.” She pressed her forehead to mine, pressing herself against my chest and scraping her nails over my scalp as she inhaled my words into her lungs. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Helen peered into my eyes so deeply, I wondered if she was trying to read my thoughts. I splayed out all my feelings, laid myself bare for her to judge and condemn.
“My beautiful executioner,” I praised, revered, as I ran my fingers through her hair.
Perhaps it was wrong to commend her for such a dark act.
But Douglas Miller had kidnapped her, hurt her, betrayed me and my family.
She had saved my life. An avenging angel of death with blood on her hands, as filthy and savage as me—and she was mine.
“Drake,” Helen whined. She didn’t say it back. She didn’t need to. I knew her feelings ran as deep as mine, as entangled as we were in one another. Perhaps by fate or some other fair fortune, Helen and I were wholly enmeshed in the other. And when she flung herself at me, I was there to catch her.
Zealous, hungry, her mouth crashed into mine.
Undeterred by how wrong it might be to indulge in the high of adrenaline after being kidnapped, after killing someone, we fell into one another as two crossing stars colliding in an infinite galaxy might.
“I need you,” she sighed the exact words floating through my mind.
Falling into her gravitational pull again and again, I crushed my lips to hers, tasting how eager she was with each clash of teeth and tongue.
My hands drifted along her body, gripping her thighs to hoist her higher in my lap. “Fuck, Monty?—”
“Please. Please. I need you.” Helen shamelessly ground herself harder on my lap, finding the outline of my cock. Her needy hands scrambled over my shoulders, up my neck to my hair, all while rocking her hips in search of friction.
“You’re so magnificent,” I panted through hot, open-mouthed kisses.
“You have no idea how fierce and wonderful you were last night. I’m so proud of you—so impressed.
” My teeth caught her bottom lip, and she mewled from the bite.
I licked away the sting before plundering her mouth, tasting her and teasing her little tongue. “Fuck, I love you.”
Her hands dropped between us, fumbling with my belt as I trailed my mouth in a searing path along her neck.
My tongue flicked out, savoring the taste of sweat and dirt and blood on her skin along with something so completely her it drove me wild.
I snatched the satin nightgown, already ripped and threadbare from her ordeal, and ripped the fabric in half.
The sight of her halted me. Flushed, skin rosy with desire and illuminated gold under the sunrise.
She was gorgeous with lust in her crystal blue eyes and pouty lips swollen from my kisses.
Honey-brown hair tangled and tumbling around her shoulders, skin bruised and smudged, she looked like a wild thing.
A deity beyond my understanding come to eat my heart.
I’d gladly carve it out of my own chest, cook it up to her exact specifications, and serve it to her on a silver platter. She wouldn’t even need to ask.
She gasped, but quickly recovered to untuck my shirt and jiggle my belt loose. But she was trembling viciously, with nerves or want, or both. I didn’t know. Her range of emotions was as harried and potent as mine. Utterly intoxicating.
Impatient and desperate, I growled as I tugged off my shirt and flung it away. Helen’s slender fingers drifted along the ladder of my abs, watching them tense to her feather-light touch. My cock twitched against my zipper and a soft breath of need escaped her.
With one arm belted around her waist and her arms around my neck, I lifted to shove my black pants and briefs down to pool around my ankles.
I didn’t even care to kick them off my feet as I dropped back onto the cushion and positioned Helen on my lap.
Her wet pussy met the length of my cock and we both lost a sharp gasp at the sensation.
Monty’s heavy breathing increased as she sealed her chest to mine, pebbled nipples rubbing over my skin as she slid her slick lower lips over my shaft.
A hiss of pleasure left me when her clit bumped into the sensitive head of my erection.
She dropped her head to my shoulder, whimpering into my fevered skin as she ground herself into me, chasing what she needed.
The shlick sounds of her pussy riding the length of my cock and the heat of her sparked a madness within me.
“So wet, baby. You feel so good.” I palmed her perfect ass, guiding her rolling hips as she rocked on my lap.
“For you.” She panted hotly in my ear with her cheek flush with mine. “Only you. Please.”
A wicked, triumphant grin lifted my lips at her breathy admission. She let out a frustrated whine when I teased her peaked nipples and filled my hands with the fantastic weight of her breasts. Slightly more than a handful, wonderfully soft and delicious.
“Now, please. I need you inside of me. Drake, please.” My name, in that begging tone, snapped the frayed thread of my restraint.
But her ferocity returned before I reacted.
She dropped her hand to my cock, swiping her thumb over the leaking pre-cum at the swollen tip.
I grunted, lifting my hips in time to meet her, lining me up with her entrance.
“Helen… fuck—” my groan dragged out as she dropped her hips, welcoming me into her warm, tight heat. “Perfect, perfect, so perfect,” I mindlessly chanted.
Helen set the pace, and I relinquished the control to her. Even as I fucked up into her, she commanded the speed, the intensity of how hard she writhed on my lap and twisted her hips.
“That’s it, baby. Take what you need. Just like that.
Take me for a ride.” I sucked and bit marks into her neck when she flung her head back.
Her nails left red welts over my chest and shoulders as she scratched and clawed at me.
She rode me hard and fast, slamming herself down, hunting for her release.
One arm caged her chest to mine, ensuring her clit hit my pelvis as my cock dragged against her sensitive inner wall.
Her head dropped to mine, lips almost but not quite meeting.
I loved the feeling of her sweat dampened petal-soft skin rubbing against mine, her hard nipples grazing my chest, her sharp claws gouging into me as she possessed me.
I was hers—hers to use, to fuck, to love.
Minor tremors raced through her, and her shallow gasps increased. Her cunt fluttered on my length, warning of her impending climax.
“Come on, Monty. Come on my cock. Please let me feel you coming for me,” I rasped against her lips. “I love you. Come for me. Helen?—”
“Putain de merde!” She flung her head back, spine bowing and muscles seizing as she came. Her orgasm tore through her, and I was sure her nails were leaving bloody crescents on my shoulders. The wondrous cry of her pleasure nearly sent me over the edge alongside her.
But I wasn’t done with her. Not yet.
Not ever.