10. So Much More

So Much More

Terra

W e're both quiet till after the food comes, and we've both eaten. Maybe I shouldn't be shocked at how good the food is at a joint that caters to the kind of men who frequent this place, but I am. Because it's the best damn cheeseburger I've had in a long time.

Or maybe it's just the fact that I haven't eaten since…fuck, I don't know. Yesterday? Before the wedding. Well before.

"So. What you said to Camilla," Saxon says, putting both of our empty plates in the sink and returning to sit beside me on the couch.

I sigh. "I'm too tired for the full story, to be honest. Cliff's Notes version is that I met this guy at the gym. He was hot, he was charming. He liked me. Made me feel sexy. This was eight months ago. I'd been on a hiatus from hooking up for a few weeks because I was getting bored. It was all starting to seem kinda the same, you know? I…" I wander over to the huge glass case along the wall containing a whole-ass armory. "I fell in love with him. Moved in with him. Did everything for him. Even when the shit he wanted in bed was weird to the point of freaky, I went along with it. Average kink shit, at first. Call him Daddy, spanking, choking. But then he wanted to watch porn, and okay. Sure. I'm okay with porn. But he was into weird, sick, dark shit. Shoulda been my first clue, but even after the kink, he still had this way of making me feel attractive. I gave it up to him willingly. That's what confuses me—what I still don't get. I loved him. I never said no. And then one day, I wasn't feeling good. Ate something bad, had things coming out of both ends for days. I was starting to get over it, but still not feeling great. Just queasy, you know? Keeping down crackers and soup, but just feeling like garbage.

"He wanted sex. I was like, I can't. I'm not feeling good. And he…he got mad. Really, really mad. It was like someone flipped a switch. He beat the shit out of me, and when I was so bloody and broken I couldn't fight back, he raped me. Not just once. Repeatedly. As I was bleeding. The more I cried and begged, the harder he got off.

"Come to find out, he was an actual psychopath. Dodging meds and involuntary stays, changing his name, running from similarly horrible shit he did to other women. He hid it from me. Acted normal, for, like, months . And then, just like that, bam ! He turned into a ducking demon."

"Fucking hell, Terra." He sounds like he's dealing with some complicated emotions: anger, and compassion.

"Yeah, it wasn't great. I spent a week in the hospital. I'm still paying that off, actually. I haven't…" I swallow hard. "I haven't been with anyone since. I couldn't."

"Terra, Jesus. If I'd known—"

"I had to get over it. I know better, now. I can't hide. I can't wallow. It happened. It sucked. Men suck. Men have really fucked up my ability to trust. But I refuse to let them win. If I go through life scared and reclusive and angry, hiding my body and denying myself the pleasure of sex, then they win. And for some reason, I chose you. Yeah, you're fucking hot as hell. You have a perfect body. Your face is stupid handsome, and even that scar just makes you look rugged and badass. You should scare me. But…I don't know, Saxon. There's just something about you. I'm drawn to you. I trust you." My voice drops to a whisper. "So, just…please, please , don't ruin it for me. Don't turn out like all the other men in my life."

His hands frame me in, powerful arms like iron bars on either side of me, fingers on the glass beside mine. Chest hard and hot at my back. I should feel trapped. I should feel terrified.

I don't.

I shiver, but not from fear.

My breath lodges in my lungs, but not from terror.

"I'd cut off my own dick before I ever hurt you," he murmurs.

"I'm pretty sure if I asked Camilla, she'd cut it off for me."

He laughs. "I'm sure she would."

I twist, putting the sharp cold corner of the glass case in the middle of my back, resting my hands on his bare chest. His many scars are hard lumps under my palms, his skin warm, muscles smooth and firm. His eyes search mine.

"Please don't fuck me over," I whisper. "I don't know if I can come back from another one. I've been broken so many times, Saxon. I've glued myself back together so many times. I can't do it again."

He touches his forehead to mine. "I've got no fuckin' clue what I'm doing, Terra. Never been in a relationship. Never had anyone care about me other than my brothers. All I've ever known about women is sex. Camilla…we had one night. For one night, I got a glimpse of… something . What it might have been like to…to have a person who was…" he shakes his head, chin dropping, one shoulder lifting, sagging. "There. Who saw…me, I guess."

"Men, for me, have always been one of two things: a threat, or a single-use-only toy, to play with and discard, because he's probably a threat, too."

"I just…" he meets my eyes, the deep green of his open, vulnerable, soft. It's shocking, almost debilitating to see in a man like him. "I've known you less than twenty-four hours. How did this happen?"

"Hell, if I know."

He touches a thumb to my cheekbone, brushes gently. Across my eyebrow. From the point of my chin to my earlobe. The gentlest touch I've ever felt. "I'm not scared of being shot. Stabbed. Burned. Beaten. Not scared of dying—almost have too many times. But what I am afraid of is hurting you."

"So don't."

"How can I not? And what the fuck do I have to offer you? I swore an oath to the brothers. I won't break it. So…what kind of life is that for you?"

"Me and six other men? Oh my, whatever shall I do?" I quip.

"Funny. But Rev, Chance, and Kane all have women."

"They live with you guys? In the Club, or however that works?"

"Yeah."

"And they hate every second, huh? They're miserable and trapped?"

He can't help a laugh. "No, they're happy. They're in love. Maybe it's catching, I don't know. I always assumed I'd die alone. But then Rev met Myka and she, like, I don't fuckin' know what she did, but he barely lets her out of his sight, and she fucking loves the shit outta him. And then Kane takes off and comes back with this drop-dead gorgeous Indian girl, and then Chance ends up with a former Olympic volleyball player, and they're all fuckin' lovey-dovey and all over each other and shit."

"And now here you are." I caress the line of his jaw with my fingertips. "Here we are."

"Here we are." He leans his face into my hand. "I wanna kiss you so damn bad."

"I'm not stopping you."

"I won't stop, once I start, and I'm not about to put you in a position like that in a place like this."

I huff a laugh. "Yeah, I suppose you have a point." I lift onto my toes and kiss the tip of his nose, a silly, tender, sentimental gesture that has me questioning my sanity…until I see the look in his eyes, and know it's worth it. "Come on."

I lead him by the hand across the room to the couch.

"What are we doing?" He asks.

"You said we needed to sleep, and you weren't lying. I'm wired, but exhausted. So we're gonna lay down and sleep. Together."

"I was gonna sleep on the floor by the door."

"The couch seems more comfortable, to me." I sit down and tug at his hand. "It won't hurt, I promise."

He laughs. "Will we both fit?"

I tug again, and he lets me pull him down to his butt. "Saxon, we're gonna cuddle."

" Cuddle ." He puts a spin on the word like it's some foreign concept.

"I know, I know. It's new for me too. But I figure other people seem to like it, so we may as well try it." I push at his chest. "Just lay down. We're both smart adults, we can figure this out."

Stiffly, he stretches out on the couch, more like a mummy than a man.

I cackle. "Saxon, Jesus, my guy. Just… hold me." I slip down and rest my head on his chest. "We're just catching some sleep together. I'm not suggesting you let me peg you. God. Just relax."

"Oh, hold on." He arches his back and hauls out a pistol, which he lays on the floor near to hand, and then another. And then digs in his pockets and comes up with two clips.

"How many clips did you bring, Saxon? Good grief."

"Magazines."

"Huh?"

"They're magazines. Clips are different." He lifts the item in question. "This is a magazine."

"Oh goody, I always wanted to know that. Thanks, Saxon. I can die happy, now."

He smacks my ass. "Sarcastic, much?"

"Who, me? Never."

He shuffles his body to an angle, putting his back to the room with me wedged between his huge hard frame and the couch. The muscle of his bare chest is a deliciously warm, firm pillow. My ear is pressed to his sternum, and I can hear the steady thumpthump-thumpthump of his heartbeat. His arm slings over my hip, and his hand rests casually and possessively on my butt. His breath huffs down my back.

A sense of all-pervading rightness suffuses me. I'm safe. No matter what lies beyond that door, I know I'm safe. The man holding me will, I have no doubt, face down anything and everything that could threaten me and come out victorious.

I'm safe.

I trust him.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. My eyes sting. I swallow hard, but the hot lump in my throat prevents anything from going down.

"Hey, you good?" His voice is soft and concerned.

I nod.

"Kinda seems like you're cryin'."

I shake my head.

"You sure?"

Nod.

"Terra."

I reach a hand up and touch his lips. "I'm okay."

I nuzzle closer, inhale his scent, burrow into his warmth. Into the strength of his arms wrapped around me. Snuggle into the safety of all that is Saxon.

"I never thought anything could be better than sex, but this?" I inhale deeply, let it out slowly. "This is close. And it's just…kinda overwhelming."

"Yeah," he murmurs. "I get that."

"I still expect sex so good I reach another plane of existence," I say, feeling sleep tug at me. "I just…I need this too."

His arms tighten. "Weird how you can go your whole life not knowing you needed something until you have it."

"Truth."

I fight sleep. I just want to enjoy this—god knows what's gonna happen next, and I want to savor this.

Saxon's breathing smooths out, and his hold loosens but doesn't break.

Gradually, sleep pulls me under.

Waking up happens as gradually as falling asleep did.

I'm still in Saxon's arms, although I've turned so my face is in the back of the couch, and his big body is behind me. His arms are wrapped around my middle, just beneath my breasts.

His cock is awake, fully erect, and wedged against my ass.

I don't want to wake up. I don't want to do anything but feel that magnificent organ slide inside me. Fill me. Ravage me. Fuck, I want him.

My hips move, shifting against him. He moans sleepily, stirring.

"Terra," he murmurs, more asleep than awake.

"Saxon," I whisper it back.

I pull my bustier down, somewhat awkwardly in the narrow space between the couch and Saxon, and put his hands on my breasts. Like magic, his hands twitch, curl, and then cup.

"Mmmmm," he hums, almost silly with sleep. "Soft."

I writhe my ass against him. "Mmmmm. Hard."

He groans, hands waking up and beginning to play with my boobs. Men—so predictable. In this case, I'm not complaining. His touch feels beautiful. My nipples harden into points, and each brush of his rough hard hands sends shockwaves thrilling down my body. I feel my sex dampening, heating.

I need him. I can't wait anymore. Can't wait for a bed or privacy or any of that shit. I just want him.

I reach behind myself and find him, a hard thick rod behind his zipper. Fumble with the closure of his pants. The zipper. Once undone, I shove my hand down his front and grip him, squeeze, caress. With my other hand, I gather my skirt and hike it up around my hips.

"Terra, babe…" He's more awake now and cottoning onto what I want.

"I need you," I whisper. "Please?"

His teeth pinch my earlobe. "This isn't exactly where I—"

"I don't fucking care , Saxon. I do…not…care . I want you." I bring one of his hands down to the juncture of my thighs, lifting one to allow him access, pressing his fingers to my seam. Let him feel how damp my front is. "I need you. I need to feel you inside me. Right the fuck now. Please don't deny me again. Please."

"Fuck, you beggin'…" his fingers slither under the gusset of my panties and find my opening, curling in. "Best thing I've ever heard."

"Oh yeah?" I pull my hand out of his pants and wriggle out of my thong. Stuff it in his hip pocket for later. "Just wait till you're fucking me and I'm coming and whispering your name. That'll be the best thing you've ever heard. And I am begging, Saxon. Please ."

"I don't have a condom."

"I'm clean, and I'm on the shot. Just got a new one a couple months ago. All I want is you."

"I'm clean. Get tested twice a year, and I've not been with anyone for a while."

"How long is a while? Not that I care, just curious."

"Couple months. And my last test was after the last time."

I feel his fingers find my clit and I gasp, throw my head back against his chest, and hook my upper leg behind his. "Don't tease me, Saxon."

"Who's teasing?" He knows exactly how to touch me, how to bring me to the edge as fast as possible. "Wanna hear you come."

I clutch at his hand, stopping him from touching me. "No. I need you inside me."

"I ain't exactly small, Terra. Want you ready for me."

I press my fingers against his and drive his into me. "Feel that? Feel how wet I am? I'm ready. I want you. I need you. Please, Saxon. Please ."

"Fuck," he growls. "So fuckin' wet, so fuckin' tight."

"Imagine how I'll feel wrapped around this ." I grip his hot, hard, throbbing cock and pump my fist down the length. "Imagine how tight I'll be. How hard I can squeeze."

He grinds into my touch. "Fuck, Terra. Let go for a second, give me a minute to get control."

I fumble at his pants and underwear. "No. No, Saxon. No control. I don't want control. I want you hot and wild. I want you to come the second you get inside me."

"That's exactly what's gonna happen."

"Good. Because I'm gonna come too, the very second you're inside me. I can't wait. Please."

He kicks his pants and underwear down and off one leg. Toes them off the rest of the way, and he's naked. Fuck, I wish I could see him, but I refuse to move, to risk ruining this moment, to risk breaking this spell.

He's so earnest about our first time together being something…I don't know. Formal, or whatever. I just want him.

I curl my arm upward and behind to cup the back of his head as his soft warm flesh presses against mine, his front to my back. I wish I was naked too, but it'd take too long to get the jacket and bustier off.

Saxon, however, has other ideas. He peels the jacket off, tosses it. Rips the bustier off—tosses it.

It's never felt this way—this good, this right, being naked with a man. Flesh to flesh, warmth against warmth. His hands cover my belly, petting and caressing—normally a place I'm uncomfortable being touched due to my insecurity, for some reason, his touch makes me feel beautiful, even there. One hand goes north, to my breasts, and the other south, to my pussy.

He covers my sex with his hand, palm over my seam. Just…holding. Claiming. He says nothing, but I feel the claim.

"Yes, Saxon," I murmur out loud. "Yours."

I reach behind me, grip his erection. "Mine."

"Fuck." He pushes into my touch—his tip weeps. "The way you touch me, Terra, god. So fucking amazing. All you do is touch me and I just…I fuckin' lose it."

"Same." I press my ass against his belly. "Don't make me ask again."

He turns his face to press his nose and mouth into my palm. Together, we line ourselves up. I guide his cock to my opening and notch him at my entrance.

"Oh god," I whisper. "Saxon. Please."

"Don't need to beg anymore, baby. Although I like it when you do." He shifts his hips—just a nudge. A tease. "You want this?"

I growl, feral and annoyed. "Saxon, goddammit. Do not tease me."

"Just say my name again."

"Saxon." The breathy, desperate tone is not faked. Not at all.

The fat head of his cock splits me open, a tease of how he'll fill me. I want him to do it—I hold still. Wait. Refuse to move until he does.

And then…oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

He tilts his hips forward and drives into me. Fills me, fills me, fills me.

I cry out, putting my face to the couch to muffle the sound. Holy fuck, nothing could have prepared me for the reality of all that is Saxon Cabot inside me.

He glides in, and my pussy swallows him, takes all of him, inch by inch, slowly. His groan is an answer to my cry, and he seizes my shoulder with his teeth, muffling his groan. His palm covers my mouth, and I nuzzle and kiss and moan into his hand.

It lasts forever, his initial thrust into me. A beautiful eternity of his cock sliding into me, spreading me open, splitting me apart. It aches, almost hurts, but almost hurts so, so good.

His teeth nip and dig, and his moan is guttural. "Terra… fuck . You feel…"

"Perfect. We're perfect together." I reach down between my thighs and find our joining, touching him where he fills me.

"So perfect," he whispers. "I didn't know. I didn't know it could feel this way."

My eyes sting. "Me either, baby. Me either."

Once he's fully impaled inside me, he just holds there, gathering himself. For all his talk of coming right away, I somehow doubt he actually will. I just wasn't kidding—I don't need sex to last forever. It gets boring. Not that anything with Saxon could ever be boring.

He curls a hand under my upper thigh, pulls my leg up and away, and drives deeper.

"Oh fuck," I whimper. "Yes. Yes. More!"

"Touch yourself," his whisper is hot in my ear, a command I gladly obey.

His other hand cups a breast, and he slowly pulls away and almost out of me. I whimper at the loss of him.

"Put it back put it back put it back," I chant.

He groans a laugh. "Like this?" He thrusts back home slowly, almost gingerly, at long, long last bumping home, hips pressing against my ass.

I touch my clit in slow circles, gently flicking. With my other hand, I reach down and caress him where he enters me. His root. His sack. Play with his balls, caress them, squeeze them, massage them.

"Holy fuck, Terra. I love how you do that."

We both falter at the L-word, even in that context. But neither of us say anything.

"Just like that," I whisper. "Do it again. Just like that. Please."

At my whimpered plea, he groans and pulls back, only to slide in again, just as slowly. "Like that?"

"Fuck yes. Yes, yes, just like that. More, please. Please. Don't stop."

He pulls away, just the tip of him inside me, flutters a couple of times, teasing, and then…

"Or, how about…this."

He drives in all at once, hard, slamming deep so our bodies meet with a clap. I cry out, unable to muffle it in time. My whole being spasms, and I clench around him, squeezing him as hard as I can—he grunts.

"Holy shit, babe. So fuckin' tight."

"I'm squeezing you. Like it?"

"Yeah, honey, I fucking love it. So good. Feels fuckin' incredible."

I squeeze him again, and he tenses his belly. "Fuck, babe. Fuckin'….so goddamn good."

"Again," I breathe. "Fuck me hard again."

He draws back, flutters shallow thrusts, delicate little in-and-out movements that barely count. "Not like this?"

"No. Hard. I need it hard. Please."

He thrusts in slowly, like before. "I thought you liked it like this." This time, he doesn't stop, just keeps thrusting in and out, slow, gradual, teasing thrusts filling me and leaving me momentarily empty and desperate.

"Saxon, god. Hard, soft, I don't fuckin' care. Just… please , baby. Don't stop. Just please don't ever stop."

His lips touch my ear. "Keep calling me baby. I feel that shit in my soul, Terra. Makes me crazy ."

I touch myself and feel the edge of an orgasm fast approaching. I press my fingers against him as he moves in and out of me, delighting in the way my flesh wraps taut around his thick hard cock, the way he feels against my fingers, sliding with our joined and mixed essences.

"Come for me, Terra," he murmurs.

"Only when you do." I turn my face, and he reads me, somehow, leans over and finds my mouth. "I wanna come with you. Same time. Our first time, at the same time. I've never had that and I want it with you."

"Me either," he growls. "Together, then."

"I'm close."

"I know," he whispers, pausing to kiss me. "I feel it. I feel you starting to shake. I feel you, honey. I'm there, too. So close."

"I know," I echo him. "Feel you, too. Feel you getting bigger. You throb inside me, baby. Feel so goddamn amazing. Never…never felt anything so fucking perfect."

He takes my mouth and rolls so he's on his back, spreads my thighs wide, and drives deep. And, oh…holiest of fucks, he's so deep. Fills me so completely, so perfectly that I'm dizzy with it. With him.

My heart swells, bursts.

All the oft-shattered shards are smashed and obliterated. My heart is gone.

Something else replaces it. Something new.

Our mouths touch, tongues tangle. Bodies move in perfect synchronization.

"Terra," he whispers. "Fuck. I…fuck. I want this to last forever."

"I know. But Saxon, baby, don't hold back. Give it to me. I can't come without you. I won't."

He bites my shoulder again, growling like a bear. "Fuck, fuck— I need…"

"Whatever you need, baby. Take it. Do it. Don't hold back."

He hooks his hands behind my knees and pulls my legs toward my torso, hesitates, and then slides into me, slowly. One last time, slowly.

I groan, head curling forward as I feel climax swiftly approaching. "Hurry, baby. I can't wait much longer, but I can't come without you."

"Tell me if I hurt you. If it's too hard."

"You won't. It'll be exactly what I need." I reach down and caress him with my hands and squeeze him with my inner muscles as hard as I can. "Fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard."

He kisses my shoulder where his teeth dug in, and lets out a growl, and then…

Oh, perfect heaven.

He fucks me.

Saxon fucks me without restraint, finally. His grip on my legs is hard and tight, and perfect. Holding me in place, where he wants me. His cock drives into me hard and fast, and rough. He snarls wordlessly in my ear, each hot huffing breath timed with the slapping thrust of his beautiful cock inside me, and I can't breathe, can't move, can only whimper as he fucks me and fucks me and fucks me.

"Not yet," he grunts, feeling me spasming around him. "Not yet, goddammit."

"Saxon, fuck, I can't—I can't stop it. I'm trying, I swear. I can't—oh—ohhhhh my fucking god in heaven…"

I feel myself rippling around him, involuntarily squeezing. I reach back and fumble for him, find his face, the back of his head, clasp and cup, grip and gasp. I fight desperately to hold back my climax, willing myself to wait for him, to wait until he releases.

"Please, Saxon. Please, please, please."

His grunts huff hard and fast and wild in my ear, growls and snarls unending, the pace of his thrusts now frantic and brutal—I feel each slapping slamming thrust in my soul.

He falters, teeth biting into my shoulder so hard I cry out, and I feel it, feel his release throb inside me. Feel his cock pulse. I reach down and cup his balls in both hands, grinding myself down on him, taking him deeper, refusing to let him pull away even a millimeter.

"Terra…oh god, fuck, Terra—Jesus, Jesus, Terra—Terra!" His voice becomes…almost soft, for an instant. Tender, on the last repetition of my name.

It's the tone of absolute wonder as he comes inside me that triggers my own.

The universe detonates within me, lightning shearing through my pussy, bursting behind my eyes, shuddering in my spirit. I can't even cry out, can't scream, can't cry—I can't even catch my breath, so hard am I coming.

I feel the flood of his seed spread through me in a hot rush filling every corner of me. His cock pulses and spasms and my pussy matches each pulse and each spasm with my own, timed with his. He gasps in my ear, and I finally manage a breath, my explosive orgasm turning it into a breathless half-scream.

He turns my face to his and swallows it, trading my scream for his breath, kissing oxygen back into my lungs.

And fuck—that was just the first wave.

He spears into me again, and a ragged inhale becomes a whimper, becomes his name chanted— "Saxon! Saxon! Saxon!"

Echoed by his answering chant— "Terra! Terra! Terra!"

Another wave, a quake of orgasmic release shuddering through me, causing my pussy to clamp down harder than ever, ripping a scream out of me and a primal snarl from him.

Another burst.

Tears start in my eyes, and my gasp for breath is an undeniable sob, so many wildly intense emotions coruscating inside me that I can't breathe and can't face them.

Still shaking with rolling, slowly subsiding aftershocks, I can only sob and whimper, knowing that I am irrevocably changed, that if Saxon doesn't feel the way I feel I'll be not just broken or shattered, but utterly obliterated.

This was not just sex.

He didn't fuck me.

We didn't just fuck .

It was so, so much more.

I need to get up. Need to move. Need to put space between us. Need to get away.

Fear—outright terror—slashes through me. He won't feel the way I feel. He can't. My mother left—I know, she died, but tell that to my feelings on the matter, which are still that of a five-year-old; to wit: abandoned. My father couldn't love me. No man has ever loved me. No man has ever done anything but fuck me over. Hurt me. Betray me. Even Ricardo left, although I understand I couldn't have loved him then had he tried.

Get away.

I've got to get away.