“Play with your tits, Princess. Take each nipple in your fingers and tease them for me.”
Under his direction, my ride picks up speed and I get lost in the moment, following each command he gives me without question.
Bring your breasts to my mouth Princess, I need to suck them,” he demands.
I do it without question. I am his prisoner. He orders and I give it. I’ll do anything he asks at this point. For the first time in my life, I feel like I am…home.
It will get better. Jacob will let me in. I need to just give him time. That’s the last thought I have before I detonate into a thousand pieces.
My heart cries out…Jacob, please let me in.
Chapter 18
Dancer
Fuck. Fuck! Fuck!! FUCK!
What was that? What the hell was that?
I’m lying in bed after the most intense sex I’ve ever had in my life. Carrie fell down against me almost immediately after that last round. She is sleeping wrapped tight around me. It should feel suffocating, it doesn’t. It feels like I’ve reached…hell, I don’t even have words. I just know, I wish I could freeze this moment and live here—never leaving here. Here is good.
Still, even ‘here’ doesn’t feel right deep inside of me. I’m completely satisfied. I have the woman I’ve dreamed of for years in my arms and still there is fear. My heart is beating out of my chest. I feel like I can’t breathe. I am sweating and it feels like I’m going to jump out of my skin. It doesn’t make sense. How can I feel so good being with Carrie, but still sense a panic attack waiting for me? I’ve felt it enough times to know. Panic and I have become bosom buddies.
I need to leave. I need to get out of here. A drink…I need a drink.
I jerk as my phone rings. I stretch to reach down to my pants on the floor. I find it in my pocket. Carrie moans, the sound is enough to make my cock come to life. How the fuck is that possible? I came so hard the last time I thought the damn thing would have been dead to the world the rest of the night.
“Yeah?” I grumble into the phone. I feel Carrie place a kiss on my chest. I look down to a sea of golden red locks, I feel another feather-light kiss and then she snuggles back down, her breathing evening out. Shit. Had the other person answered yet? I’ve pulled the phone away from my ear to watch Carrie. This woman is so fucking dangerous. “What?” Wondering who the hell is calling.
“I said, I need you at the club.”
Dragon.
I may have wanted to take a breather from Carrie, but going to the club is not what I had in mind. That place fucks with my head. The men and the loud party atmosphere, I can’t handle it. Always before, I’d go to a bar, find a good lay within a few minutes and take her (or them) back to the cheap hotel I was living in. The few times I’ve been summoned to the club have played hell with my brain. In prison we were always kept in groups, never alone. When the men weren’t talking or yelling, the guards were. There was never silence. It only got worse at night. At night you were locked in your tiny cell with another inmate. The room was always so hot and thick with stomach-souring odors. There’s no way to describe the actual stink and desperation that clamps over everything in prison.
“Motherfucker, are you listening to me?”
No.
“I can’t leave Carrie unprotected,” I argue, ignoring the fact that I almost left her alone before Dragon called.
“Bull should be there anytime to watch over Red. You get your ass to me. It’s important.”
“Fuck no. Bull is not getting around my woman,” I yell back before I can stop myself.
“I know you didn’t just argue with me. I said Bull will watch over your woman and Dance? He. Will. Watch. Over. Your. Woman.”
“Damn it, Dragon,” I raise up off the bed. I dislodge Carrie off of me in the process, but I’m fucking pissed at my brother. She moans, but doesn’t wake up. She rolls over to her side, the white sheet hangs loosely around her body, leaving her breasts completely exposed. My cock is totally standing at attention now, shit. “Bull doesn’t need to be anywhere near Carrie, you have to know he’s hung up on her.”
“He won’t go there with a brother’s old lady.”
“Bullshit….”
“He won’t, unless Carrie wants it. So I guess it depends on how you’re treating her,” Dragon comes back at me. He doesn’t realize what a bear he is poking. I cannot handle that shit. The thought of another man putting his hands on Carrie? Someone else getting even a small taste of what I just had? Just the thought makes me tighten my hand on my phone, so much, it is a wonder the damn thing doesn’t crumble into dust.
“She’s passed out after I popped her cherry and fucked her seven ways to Sunday. I made her scream so loud the neighbors probably called 911. Does that answer your question?”
I hear a gasp from behind me and glance over my shoulder to see Carrie looking as if I had slapped her. Her face is white and those damn green eyes are looking at me with…shame?