Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Zeppelin

D r. Clancy eyed me over the rim of her black glasses. “I know you hate these appointments, Zeppelin, but we need to talk about this.”

I sighed, staring up at the ceiling of her dimly lit office. I slouched further down the couch so my neck wasn’t bent back at such an awkward angle. “Why?” I demanded, still staring up at the ceiling. “It’s been almost ten years, doc. I don’t know why I have to keep coming here twice a month over something that happened that long ago.”

She made a tsk ing sound. That was one of the things I truly appreciated about her. Out of all the other therapists I’d tried, only Dr. Clancy had been the one that fit what I needed. And it took me six years to find her. She called me on my shit without hesitation, and she knew how to handle me when I was in one of my moods—like I was now.

Therapy always put me in a bad mood because we always went over something in my past and somehow found a way to tie it to something that had to do with my present. And since I’d blurted that Eros and I had met someone to add to our relationship—someone we both wanted desperately—but he was being particularly stubborn about it all, she’d wanted to deep dive into why that bothered me.

Why couldn’t she just take it as a normal man pursuing another man? Why did it have to have such a fucking deep meaning?

“Because it’s affecting you now, remember?” she asked, crossing her legs at the knee. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “The two years that you were being trafficked, you never got to have anything of your own. So, when you found Eros, you latched onto him. Now, you’re also doing the same with… What’s his name?”

“Jaxon,” I grumbled. My belly clenched. Fuck, my fingers burned with the need to claim him. “His name is Jaxon.”

“Right.” She cleared her throat. “Chasing someone when they’ve clearly said no is a toxic trait, Zeppelin. Boundaries are a thing.”

I shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t care.” She sighed. “I haven’t wanted anyone or anything like I do him since Eros. And I know Eros is ready to find someone that fits with us. I know Jaxon fits. He’s just being a stubborn ass.”

“But he’s telling you no,” she reiterated. “He’s pushing both of you away.” I frankly didn’t give a fuck.

I shook my head. “He’s just confused.” I knew he was. Because a man who was truly straight didn’t moan and fuck my fist the way he had the other day. A straight man would’ve punched me in the face or attempted to kick my ass. They would’ve called the police for assault. But Jaxon? Nope. He’d moaned and kissed both me and Eros like he needed us to breathe. Like we supplied the oxygen he needed to live.

He’d allowed Eros to take over the kiss and had chased his orgasm, coming in my hand and making beautiful, sinful sounds that made me want to bend him over that table we’d just eaten on and fuck him raw. Paint his insides with my cum. Cover him in my bruises.

“Did it occur to you that you assaulted him?” she asked me calmly. “You essentially did to him what was done to you over and over and over again. Just because you orgasmed doesn’t mean you wanted it.”

I swallowed bile as it crawled up my throat, threatening to choke me. I hadn’t fucking assaulted Jaxon, had I? He’d been moaning. He’d never tried to stop me.

But it had started as an assault.

Fuck .

My gut churned, and I jerked to my feet just as her timer went off, signaling our session was over. I didn’t bother saying a word to her. I just threw open the door to her office and stormed down the hall to the lobby. They had my credit card on file and could charge me later.

I had to get the fuck out of there before I lost my mind.

Eros was sitting at the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room when I walked in, two plates of food sitting in front of him, though they looked like they’d gone cold a while ago. I swallowed thickly, hating that I’d made him wait so long and hating the worry in his eyes, too. I always did this. Always hurt him. He knew therapy sessions were rough for me, but he still tried . And I loved him for it. But I wished he’d just… stop. So it wouldn’t hurt when I came home and found him waiting for me like this.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” I rasped as I quietly shut the front door behind me.

Eros got up and took my gym bag from me. My skin was still coated with a light sheen of sweat, and my gym towel was still wrapped around my neck. Without a word, he set the bag down and cupped my face in his hands before he kissed me.

And I fucking lost it.

His back hit the wall with a hard thud, and he groaned into my mouth, his fingers quickly working at the drawstring on my sweats as I unsnapped his jeans, fucking my tongue into his mouth.

This man, from day fucking one, had always known how to take care of me. He knew what I needed with a single damn look at me. And I loved him so much for it. He never made me second-guess anything. Never let me drown in my emotions and my trauma. He was always there, keeping me afloat and holding my hand when the darkness threatened to swallow me whole and obliterate me.

“I’m prepped.” He gasped as I slid two fingers inside of him. I growled at the slickness that immediately wrapped around my fingers.

“Fuck yeah, you did,” I muttered, nipping at his bottom lip. Then, I gripped his ass and lifted him enough to notch my cockhead against his opening. Eros kissed and licked along my jaw and down my neck, moaning like a whore in my ear as I impaled his tight ass on my cock.

“ Fuuuuck ,” I groaned, my head falling to his shoulder. With one hand gripping his ass, I pressed my other hand to the wall and began to fuck up inside of him. It was raw, sloppy, and hard. Fast. There was nothing loving about this. I was taking all of my pent-up rage and confusion out on him, and he wanted it.

“Zep, fuck—baby, yes. Right there. Oh, fuck. Please—harder. I want it harder.”

Christ . I couldn’t get enough of Eros when he was babbling like this. His cock bounced between us with each brutal thrust. I sank my teeth into my bottom lip, my chest heaving, sweat running down my temples. “Touch yourself, baby,” I begged. “Fuck, I need to see you touch yourself. Need to feel your ass squeeze my dick when you come.”

He moaned and wrapped his fist around himself, jerking his cock in time with my thrusts. “Zep, God, it feels so good. Your cock—fuck, please. I’m so close. So fucking close— fuuuuuuck ,” he cried out, his ass squeezing me so tightly, I saw stars as I flooded his hole with my cum, filling him up like my dirty, used-up whore.

We sank to the floor in a heap, both of us breathing so hard, a doctor would probably think we needed a hospital. I clutched Eros to me, and through each panting breath, I peppered kisses all over his face.

“I… love… you,” I gasped.

He nodded, breathing too hard to form proper words. But when he tightened his hold on my shoulders, I knew everything he wanted to say but couldn’t.

I nuzzled my face into Eros’s neck. He had on one of the funny talk shows we liked to watch on Tuesday nights, but I wasn’t in the mood to watch it. I just wanted to cuddle my husband and try to sleep, though I knew sleep was going to be a fucking joke.

It usually was after a therapy appointment.

“Dinner was good, baby,” I murmured, pressing a kiss beneath his jaw. He’d had to reheat it while I showered gym sweat off of me, but it was still good, nonetheless. He always put in extra effort on my therapy days.

“I’m sorry I had to reheat it. I should’ve known?—”

“No,” I gently scolded. I lifted my head from his neck and gripped his chin, turning his head to face me. “We’re not doing that shit, you hear me? Not all therapy sessions are that bad for me. It’s hard to know where I’ll be at mentally. Dinner was good. It was fucking great. Damn near perfect, even. And I’m grateful that I had a home-cooked meal to come home, too.”

He smiled at me then and leaned forward to peck my lips. “Well, thank you. And you’re welcome.”

I hugged him to me and buried my face in his hair. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I murmured.

He sank into me. “Be a miserable asshole?”

I snickered, though I knew he wasn’t far off the mark. “Yeah, probably.”

“Open that mouth, boy,” the man above me sneered. He was balding, most of his hair already gone. His teeth were yellowed, some of them rotten, and the stench when he opened his mouth to speak was damn near overwhelming and made my stomach turn, bile rising up my throat. How could this asshole afford the hourly rate for me when he couldn’t even take care of his hygiene?

“I’m not—” I gagged when he shoved his cock down my throat. Vomit spewed from between my lips, and he pulled out, punching me so hard across the face, my vision blackened for a moment.

But that was all the time he needed to flip me onto my stomach. The cement scraped at my bare skin, and I swallowed a pained sound. I needed to get off the damn ground. If I stayed down here, he’d ? —

Too fucking late.

A scream ripped from my throat before I could stop it, and more vomit fell from my lips at the pain, my stomach revolting. The man above me snarled in disgust. “I better get a partial refund for you, you disgusting piece of shit.” And then, just because he fucking could and because my entire body was trembling too hard for me to begin trying to fight back, he shoved me face-first into my own vomit, making me choke on it.

I jerked upright, sweat running down my body and dripping into my eyes. I quickly swiped at my face, my heart slamming against my chest bone so hard and fast, it hurt. I could literally feel the throb of my heart in my teeth. I was pretty sure I was going to be sick. Tears rushed down my cheeks as I tried to breathe through the nausea and the phantom pain.

“Zep?” Eros sat up, his eyes wide and alarmed. “Oh, baby,” he whispered, dragging me into his arms, uncaring of the sweat clinging to my skin. I sank into him, silent tears running down my cheeks. “You’re safe now,” my husband promised, running his hand over my hair and down my sweaty back. “I’ll kill anyone who ever tries to hurt you again. I swear on my fucking life I will.”

I just let my tears drip onto his chest, my throat too tight for me to say a word.