11. Don’t Say It

Don't Say It

Saxon

T erra scrambles off me, half-tumbling off the couch and scrabbling across the floor, hyperventilating.

There's no thought, only instinct. I lurch after her and scoop her up in my arms, and she still tries to escape, shaking her head, turning away, burying her face in her hands.

"Terra," I growl. "Breathe."

"Letgoletgoletgoletgoletgo," she hisses through gritted teeth.

"No."

She's turtled into a ball, every muscle tensed, breath coming in ragged whining gasps. This isn't a panic attack; this is something else. Fuck if I know what, only that she's not okay, very suddenly. After the most epic, intense, earth-shattering sex of my entire life, sex so deep and life-altering that I felt her soul winding around mine with each synched breath, each syncopated thrust.

She's terrified: I understand all at once in a flash of insight.

She felt that shit as deeply as I did and she's afraid of it. This is decades of trauma coming out all at once.

I have no fucking clue what to do, so I do the only thing I can think of.

Just hold on.

"I'm here," I say. "Breathe."

"Let me go. Put me down."

"Never. I've got you."

"The hell you do."

"I've fuckin' got you, Terra Connelly."

"You fucked me good. Now put me down and go away."

"Nice try."

"Fuck you."

"Louder. Say it to all the fuckin' assholes who've ever hurt you."

"FUCK YOU!" she screams. Tensed, shaking, shuddering, sobbing. " FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! "

"That's right. Let it out, babe."

" FUCK … YOU !"

"I know, baby. I know. Let it out."

"I was a kid!" she sobs through gritted teeth. "I was a kid. I was just a kid."

"I know, honey. I know."

"Why didn't he protect me?" Her voice turns tiny, helpless. "Why didn't he stop them? Why didn't he care?"

"Wish I fuckin' knew."

"He was supposed to love me. No one's ever loved me."

"I know how that feels."

"You have brothers."

"Yeah. Not the same, though."

"Saxon, please, just put me down and let me go."

"Not happening. Look at me."

A head shake. She ain't a feather, but I can and will stand here holding her all damn day if I have to.

I nuzzle her ear. "Scares me too," I whisper. "What we just shared scares the fucking hell outta me."

"Don't lie to me, dammit," she hisses.

"I'm not. Look at me—look into my eyes. You'll fuckin' see."

Another head shake, this one less convincing. The tension in her muscles is loosening.

"Breathe, darlin'." I kiss her temple, an instinct to comfort taking over. "I'm here. I've got you. I'm not letting go. I'm right fuckin' here, Terra, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't fuck with me, Saxon." A barely audible breath, laden with a desperate whisper.

"Then fuckin' look at me , goddammit." I touch her cheek with a fingertip, tracing her cheekbone, her jawline. "You feel me, Terra? Feel that I'm still here?"

She rolls toward me, peeking up at me with one eye, face covered with her hands. She must see something she likes, because she springs open and wraps her arms and legs around me, clinging as desperately to me as she was turtling inward just a moment ago.

"Good, honey. That's good. Hold onto me. I'm here. I'm here."

She shudders. "Don't you dare be playing me, Saxon."

"I could say the same."

She's clinging to me for dear life, but the shaking is subsiding. Her arms constrict around my neck like warm smooth pythons, fingers digging into my shoulders. Her legs are hooked around my waist, sex smashed against my belly, breasts crushed against my chest.

I'm aware of these things, and not in a clinical way. I'm hyperaware of them. But my only focus is her—her mindset, her emotions.

Her nose and lips press into the side of my throat. I even feel her eyelashes moving, damp with tears.

"Saxon, I…" she shudders, trailing off.

"Talk to me, honey." I've never used such terms with any woman, ever, except perhaps calling a woman "darlin'" in a generic sort of way, never as a true term of endearment. I'm honestly not where it's coming from, other than pure instinct.

"I just…" a tight, small shrug. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Freaking out. I…I ruined the moment, and I…"

She's clinging to me so tightly I can let go and nudge her face away enough to touch my lips to hers. "Shut the fuck up with sorry, woman. Shit. Didn't ruin anything."

A hiccupping laugh. "I just…it was…"

"So fucking intense it's more than a little terrifying? Yeah, for me too."

She turns her turquoise eyes to mine, finally. "It scared you too?"

"Feel my heart, babe."

She presses two fingers to my pulse, which is still racing because I've been so focused on her that I haven't even looked at my own feelings, yet.

"That's just because you're standing around holding my fat ass."

"Bullshit. I could climb a goddamn mountain carrying you and your beautiful, perfect ass."

"My ass is a little fat. I'm okay with it. I've come to accept it."

"It's fucking perfect."

She swallows hard—I can hear it. Feel it. "Wanna know a secret? I'm insecure as fuck about how huge my ass is."

"Well that's just fuckin' stupid."

"You can't call my insecurities stupid, Saxon," she murmurs, sounding stuck halfway between laughing and offended.

"Well I just did. You have the best ass I've ever seen."

"Then you need glasses."

"Twenty-twenty vision, babe."

"Then you have issues. I've got stretch marks and cellulite."

"So the fuck what?"

"It's too big."

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"Says who ?"

Silence.

"Someone said something to you. I wanna know who, so I can fuckin' kill him."

"I've always been insecure about it. But…Travis. He…was always telling me if I could just eat a little healthier and exercise more, I could tone it up. But no matter what I do, it just…never changes. I've fasted. Done Keto, carnivore, paleo, Weight Watchers, everything. I've done HIIT, spin classes, boot camps, walked everywhere, lifted weights…and it's all worked, to one degree or another. I've lost weight. Hit goal weight. Got skinny…ish. But my ass? Never fucking changes. Eventually, I gave all that shit up. Now I just eat pretty healthy most of the time, lift, and get some cardio in. Do a lot of glute-focused stuff, because if I can't make my ass smaller, it may as well be big and muscular instead of big and like a bowl of fucking pudding."

"Fucker's lucky he's already dead," I snarl. "I can't change how you feel about it right now, no matter what I say. Just don't ever call it, or any other part of you, fat, ever again. You're fucking perfect, top to bottom, inside and out. You'll just have to learn that I'm serious. Learn to trust me."

"I do trust you. I think."

"You think."

"I've only ever trusted Emily. Tommy a little. Yates, sort of, to a degree, like you'd trust a mentally challenged dog that compulsively humps everyone's legs, but he's just super sweet."

I laugh at that. "Trust doesn't happen right away."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yeah. I think." I smirk.

"Mean." She nuzzles my throat again and then pulls back, gaze serious, deep. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Anything."

"I've had this fantasy, ever since I started having sex—voluntary sex, I mean. It's what I masturbate to." Her voice drops so even from inches away, I have to strain to hear her. "Being with a man, feeling beautiful, and feeling wanted—not just lusted after, but…wanted for me . My body, yes, but me . The fantasy was always coming at the same time. Together. Bare. I've…that was the first time I've ever had sex without a condom since I started choosing to have sex. I'm on the shot and I've always made sure the guys I hooked up with used condoms. But with you, I…it…there was no question. I just wanted you . I've never, never been so desperate. I feel almost silly for how bad I needed you. And you…" she trails off, voice quavering. "You made my fantasy come true. I've never felt the way you made me feel, Saxon. That's why I'm so scared."

"Never not used condoms either." It's the scariest thing I've ever done, not guarding my expression, letting her see the depths of my unexplored feelings. "Being with you, bare, it was…fuck, Terra. More than just the physical sensations, which were out of this fucking world. You …you make me feel…" I shake my head. "I don't know. I don't fuckin' know."

She seems the turmoil, the inadequacy of words, the convulsions of my heart, my soul. "I know."

"When Rev and Kane and Chance told me they felt this crazy, intense bond with their women, like right away, I thought they were full of it. But now…I get it."

"Saxon," she breathes, eyes watering. "Don't. Don't play. Don't say shit you don't mean."

"Look me in the eyes, Terra. It seem to you like I'm bullshitting you?"

She searches me, and I let her. For the first time in my life, I lower my guard. My walls. My everything. My heart hammers in my chest. Fear pounds in my veins.

A long, fraught moment passes, our eyes locked, searching each other, laying our cards on the table, face up, nothing hidden.

Her lips touch mine, soft and warm and inviting. My eyes close, and I open my mouth to hers, and she whimpers into the kiss, a sound of relief and desire.

That sound—I'm ruined. One soft gasp, and I'm undone. How can I want her and need her more now, mere minutes after having her, than I did before?

It's not want. Not even need. Something else. Something more. I don't have the language to describe it. Closest I can come is the feeling of drowning. You swam too deep and the surface is too far up, and you can't hold your breath any longer—your lungs are screaming, burning, you're dizzy, desperate. The all-consuming need for air…

That's how I feel.

She kisses me, and I can breathe. Her tongue tangles with mine, and there is nothing but her, but me, but us. Our bodies, our souls.

I wasn't even sure I believed in souls until I met her, until I kissed her, until I touched her, until I heard her come around my finger, around my cock, until I knew the taste of her essence as I devoured her, until I knew the way it felt to have her mouth wrapped around my cock, until I knew how it felt to reach climax in unison with a woman who has somehow captured me, heart, mind, body, and soul—instantly.

My arousal aches between our bodies, and I feel her wrapped around me and feel her kissing me and feel her hand splayed against the back of my head with a possessive tenderness that makes me tremble all over, an innocent touch that's somehow almost more intense than anything she could do sexually.

We need no words. There are none.

She tilts her hips, lifts up a little, and the kiss breaks and our foreheads touch, and she takes me inside her, all the way, all at once. A deep, feral, guttural groan escapes me, matched by a breathy gasp from her.

I adjust my grip, holding onto her ass. Drive up into her, so deep in her soft wet tightness that it aches, aches in my balls, in my gut, my everything.

"Sit," She whispers. "Please. Sit down."

I shuffle backward to the couch and sit, sinking into the cushions. She's on top of me, above me, her huge perfect tits swaying in front of my face. I capture one in my mouth and take her ass in my hands, fucking finally getting to take my time with it, feel it, appreciate it. She rolls her hips sinuously, and a thrill of arousal shatters through me, ripping a groan from me.

She's just getting started. Her arms wrap around my neck and she clutches the back of my head again, fingers scratching and clawing and caressing my hair and my nape and my scalp and my shoulders as she writhes on me, taking my cock deep and deep and deeper. I cup her breasts, hold them to my face, suckle them, knowing how sensitive her nipples are. She gasps and whines as I nip and bite and lick and suckle her diamond-hard nipples, and I feel her pussy spasm—yeah, I could probably make her come from nipple play alone.

She has other ideas.

She knits our hands together, palm to palm, and extends them up the wall above my head. Leans forward, lifting up just so, seeking the exact right angle…

And slams down hard, once…twice…three times, each time crying out with a low guttural groan, like a lioness.

"Oh fuck, Saxon. Don't move. Don't move, baby. Please don't move."

"I won't."

"Shut up and suck on my tits."

"Abso-fucking-lutely."

She grinds on me, then, hands tangled with mine, her grip brutally hard, pussy soft and tight and wet and hot. She shakes all over, riding me slow and hard, grinding up my length and immediately slamming back down, ass smacking my thighs loudly—her gasps come harder and louder and more breathless which each thrust, and through it all, I hold still, hold her hands, and give her the control.

"You're…fuck, fuck !" She shudders, faltering, and then finds her rhythm gain. "You're hitting my clit and my G-spot at the same—ohfuck FUCK !"

Didn't know that was possible, but okay.

All thoughts leave my brain, then. All that's left is sensation and instinct and emotion.

I know the word I'm thinking, but I'm not sure I'm brave enough to say it. Seems crazy to even think it after knowing Terra for less than a day, but it feels like I've always known her.

She gasps in rhythm with her rolling hips, each shuddery inhale coming at the exact moment I bottom out inside her.

I feel it happen, feel her orgasm explode through her. It starts as a rippling of her pussy around me, a higher pitch of her keening gasps, a faster pace of her movements.

She lets go of my hands and grips the back of the couch, throwing her head back, spine arching inward, and increases her pace. Her tits bounce and sway, and I am utterly mesmerized.

"Touch me," she commands.

I obey, palming her ass with both hands, spreading her open so I can get even deeper. She drops her head and pushes down on me, sinking me so deep I grunt.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," She whispers, breathless. "Saxon, I'm coming. I'm coming."

"Look at me, Terra. Look me in the eyes when you come."

Her eyes fly open and meet mine, hers wide, wet, shocked. "Saxon, my god, oh my god."

"That's it, baby. Say my name. Don't look away. Say my name and come all over me."

Her mouth drops open and her eyes widen further, and the fast-paced roll of her hips slows, stutters, falters, and she clenches around me, her whole body shaking.

"Saxon, oh fuck, Saxon—" she lifts up, leans forward, collapses against me, holding my head and burying her face in my neck. "You—please. You."

I know what she's asking. I press my feet onto the floor and give her what she needs. Grip her beautiful ass and clutch it and hold it apart and fuck her hard and fast and deep.

Drive up into her exactly how I know she needs it right now.

I feel her come around me, squeezing me so hard I can barely move inside her, her whole body wracked with juddering, shuddering waves.

Mine hits me like a wall—I have no chance to even think about holding it back. I surge up into her, wrapping my arms low around her back, just above her ass, my face in her shoulder. She gasps with me, her arms around my neck.

"Saxon!"

"Terra, Terra…"

I pour into her and she rolls on me, taking me, milking our once again united climaxes. Again and again, I shudder as I come inside her, and she shakes against me, coming around me.

Slowly, we come down from the peak, gasping and sweating.

"Terra, I think…I think I—"

"Don't," she whispers, covering my mouth with a hand. "Don't. Don't say it."

"No?"

She sniffles a laugh. "I'll start crying again, and I don't cry in general, but I especially don't cry during sex. Even more so not during good sex, and baby?" She pulls back, palms on my cheeks, thumbs caressing my lips. "This was, without question, the best sex of my life. There's not even a close second. So no. Don't say it. Because I'm not crying again. Not after the best fucking I've ever gotten."

"As long as you understand it's more than just fucking for me."

She leans down to kiss me. "For me, too."

"It'd be okay if you did cry, as long as it's good crying."

"It would be the best crying. It would be tears of 'I had no fuckin' idea sex could even feel like that.'" Her eyes shimmer as she gazes at me. "Remember how I said it felt like something was missing?"

"Yeah." I can't help touching her, caressing her everywhere my hands will reach.

"I think I found it." She squeezes around me. "Right here."

My chest clenches and my gut twists. "Terra…Jesus. You're killing me."

We sit together like that for who knows how long. Her on top of me, my cock eventually slipping out of her…

"I need to get cleaned up," she says, pulling away to sit upright and making a face. "I'm, um…a little messy."

"And we need to get moving." I don't let her go, though. I slide my hands up her thighs, over her belly, and caress her tits. "Two things, before we do shit. One, you're so beautiful you take my goddamn breath away. And two, that was the best sex I've ever had, too. Nothing, and I mean nothing, has ever meant more to me than you trusting me with your body. Giving me yourself. Trusting me. Accepting me."

"That was like, five things," she says with another laughing sniffle, wiping at her eyes. "And no making me cry, goddammit."

"Wasn't trying to."

"Well you are, saying sweet shit like that." She pulls against my hold "Now let me up. I'm leaking cum."

Instead of letting her up, I pick her up off me and set her on the couch beside me. "Stay there."

"But I—"

"You're gonna let me handle it," I order. "Now just sit there and be sexy."

"Well hurry up, because leaking what feels like eight gallons off your cum is not a sexy feeling."

I grab a huge wad of paper towels from the kitchenette area and bring it to her. Kneel on the floor in front of her.

With surprising shyness, she opens her thighs for me. Bites the corner of her lip. "Never let anyone do this before. No one's ever even wanted to."

I wipe down her seam, never taking my eyes off of hers. Fold, wipe, gather. Take my time, thoroughly cleaning her.

She swallows hard as I finish and stand up. "Thank you," She whispers. "That was…weirdly sweet."

"I wanna take care of you, Terra."

She digs the heels of her palms into her eyes. "Goddammit, Saxon. Again . What happened to the gruff, sarcastic, alpha dick?"

"You."

"Okay, well, that's sweet and it makes my heart hurt. But we need that guy back. And I need to be the ass-kicking bitch. So stow the sensitive softie back in his box, bring out the other guy, and let's go wrap up this fucked up action movie we're in so we can go somewhere quiet and private where you can fuck the tears out of me again."

I nod, letting out a breath. "Yeah, you're right." I toss the paper towel in the trash, wash my hands, clean myself up, and then saunter back over to her. Bend over her. "But first…"

I kiss the shit out of her. Till we're both breathless and moaning, I kiss her.

Her hand fumbles at me, finding me hardening yet again. "Holy hell, Saxon. Again? Already?"

"You—it's you. You make me crazy."

She laughs, giving me one sweet caress, and then smacking me on the ass. "Stop it, you bad, bad man. We have bad guys to fuck up. We don't have time for round three."

"There's always time for round three," I murmur. "Can't help it if I want you more every time we fuck."

She groans, one hand on my ass, the other coming back to grip my cock. "Dammit, Saxon. We have to go. You know it and I know it. If I thought you could be quick, I'd go for it. But you and I both also know it won't be quick."

"Then you gotta let go of me."

"Tryin'. My hands aren't listening."

"Keep that up and it will be quick."

"Liar. You told me it'd be fast and you lasted for like five minutes."

"That is quick."

"Not really."

"It is for me."

"You know, I think I dropped something behind the couch," she says, twisting in place and over the back of the couch, making a big show of trying to look down the crack between wall and couch…while not so subtly arching her back, glancing over her shoulder at me invitingly.

"Just got you cleaned up."

"What a shame," she murmurs.

"Fuck," I growl. "How am I supposed to say no?"

"Pro-tip: you're not."

I kneel on the couch behind her, and she reaches back between her legs, guides me to her, notching me inside her slick hot seam.

Fuck, sliding inside her is like coming home.

We both groan as if it's been days or weeks instead of minutes. I've always had a pretty short refractory period, but she really does do something to me.

I've also always had pretty good stamina, as well as control. Not with her.

Not like this, especially. I push in deep, and she collapses forward against the wall, gasping. I pull her back so she's kneeling upright in front of me, and somehow, despite the difference in height, we line up perfectly. She rests her head on my shoulder, hands reaching back to bury in my hair. I cup her breasts and breathe her scent, gaze down her body, at my hands on her.

"Wish we had a mirror," I say.

"Me too. Or a camera. I've always wanted to film myself having sex, but I never trusted anyone enough to suggest it. You and me, recording ourselves fucking in front of a mirror?"

"Fucking hot," I murmur.

"You ever film yourself?"

"Hell no."

I lift up, surging into her. Caress her breasts, fit two fingers against her clit, and set her off.

It's all too easy. A few lazy circles, a pinch of her nipples, and she's gasping, writhing into my thrusts.

"How the hell do you manage to make it feel even better every time?" She whispers. "Fucking magic."

"You're the magic, Terra."

She shakes her head. "Don't argue with me, Saxon Cabot."

"Yes ma'am."

"Now, shut up and fuck me, so we can go do bad things to bad people."

"Sounds like a great plan," I say, "Except for one thing."

"What?"

"I'm not fucking you."

"No? Sure as hell feels like you're fucking me. Feels like you're fucking my brains out."

I clutch her tits and plant a foot on the floor and drive into her, hard and fast, relentless, savage. Chasing my release, chasing hers.

"It may feel like I'm fucking your brains out, but really, I'm making sweet, sweet love to you. I'm just doing it really hard."

"You said the L-word."

"Tangentially."

"Still counts." She gasps, letting go of me with one hand so she can finger herself with the other. "No—oh fuck…no saying the L-word at all till this is over."

"This, meaning us fucking? Or this, meaning this whole bullshit scenario I dragged you into?"

"This whole bullshit sceanrio we dragged each other into." She bucks, crying out. "Here's the—oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm gonna come—here's the deal. Once this is over, you're gonna bring me back to your club with your arrow dudes, and you're gonna let me put a woman's touch on whatever space you live in, and that's gonna be our home. When we're home, you're gonna fuck me six ways to Sunday, and you can use the L-word as much as you want. Until then, it's off-limits. I know it's how you feel, and I know it's how I feel, so just consider it understood." She almost bucks and writhes out of my grip, almost knocks me off the couch. "Got me, big boy?"

"Got you, hot stuff." I pinch both nipples right as I feel her start to let go, and she screams out loud, coming hard.

It triggers mine, the edge hitting me hard and fast. I feel it, and I prepare to let go.

I pull her back upright and crush myself against her back, curling one arm around her breasts and the other around her belly, just above her sex. Bring my other knee up onto the couch. Lift up, surge into her, as deep as I can go. Again, and again, I restrain her against me as I fuck into her, gasping as I release inside her, my lips at her ear.

"Hear it?" I whisper, voice ragged. "Hear me saying it?"

She sags in my hold, boneless and thrashing, trusting my strength to hold her up. "I hear it, I hear it."

When we've both come down, I let her go and go through the process of cleaning her up again, and myself. This time, I get dressed immediately, and gather her clothes, bring them to her.

She reaches for them, but I demur. "Let me."

She makes a complicated face—somewhere between melting with affection, amused, and annoyed all at once. "I can dress myself, Saxon."

"Well obviously—I'd hope so. But still. Let me."

"Why?"

"I want to."

"I'll let you, but you have to elaborate."

I nod and kneel in front of her. Remove from my pocket the red thong she stuffed in there. Guide her foot through one side, the other. Slide it up, and she lifts her hips, takes it from me and snugs it in place. Stands up and cooperates with me to slide on her skirt.

She takes the bustier from me. "I think I'd better do this one. Now. Talk."

I watch, fascinated, as she stuffs her magnificent body into the complicated device. "Not much to say. I'm finding I like doing things for you. Spent my whole life just…surviving, really. Going through the motions day to day. Do the job in front of me, don't think about it, don't feel shit. Don't die. Occasionally, find a willing female to take care of my needs—and usually, she was someone I had to pay.

"You…you're different. You make me want…I don't even fucking know. Something I've never had and never thought I could have. Something a huge part of me doesn't think I should have. I'm just enough of a selfish bastard to want it anyway. Even though it's putting your fucking life in danger. You seem like you want it too, and it seems more likely that I'm seeing what I want to see, and I'm just deluding myself because you…you're strong. You're beautiful. You're brave. Resilient. A good friend. A smart businesswoman and a talented craftswoman, or whatever the right word is. And I'm just…" I wiggle a pistol in the air. "All I'm good at is this."

I glance at her, but I can't read her expression, can't read the silence.

"All that to say…I like taking care of you. It makes me feel like I'm…" My throat is tight, aching and burning. "Good. For something other than hurting and killing people, at least."

Silence.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Panic sears in my veins, in my gut. My heart hammers, and my head is caught in a vise, and my lungs tighten.

Not now, goddammit. Not in front of her. Fuck.

I pace—how I've always handled panic attacks. That, or hitting the gym and lifting until I'm about to pass out.

I shouldn't have said any of that. I didn't mean to, it just…popped out.

I'm hyperventilating. Panicking and I can't stop. I've fucked it up. I had a chance with her, and I fucked it up. Women want to be protected. How can she trust me to protect her when I'm so fucking weak?

I hear my father's voice. Feel his fists, which hit as hard as his words:

PUSSY. WEAK BITCH OF A BOY.

FUCKING SISSY. CRY SOME MORE, LITTLE BITCH._

BE A FUCKING MAN, SAXON. I NAMED YOU AFTER WARRIORS, AND WHAT DO I GET? A WEAK LITTLE BITCH._

Hands gently, hesitantly touch my back, and it takes every last fiber of my being to not lash out.

"Don't touch me," I snap, snarling. "I'm not safe to be near right now."

Her hands skate up to my shoulders. "You don't scare me. Even if you did hurt me, there's nothing you can do that someone else hasn't done, and worse. So, I'm not afraid of that. But you won't."

She presses herself up against my back. Wraps her arms around me from behind. Rests her cheek on my shoulder blade.

It hurts—her affection physically hurts. I'm so tensed, still waiting for the blows—verbal and physical—that I haven't heard or felt in reality for almost fifteen years, but which I still expect, when I have these attacks.

Not even my brothers know about them.

My eyes burn.

No, no, no. Fuck. Fuck, no. Not now. Fuck.

It's like trying to hold back from the edge of climax when she's doing all she can to push me over that edge. Instead of climax, though, I'm about to fucking cry like a little goddamn weak-ass baby. I can't stop it. I fight it with everything I have inside me, but it's not enough.

The damn bursts, and it's her gentility, her understanding, her affection that breaks it.