Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Alissa

Iwoke up in an unfamiliar bed to the miracle of Michelle in my arms. She was sleeping like a rock, like she hadn’t slept at all while we were apart. I nearly felt the same way, like before this moment, I had been waiting to relax, sleep, breathe, think, fully live again. But here she was now, with me, where she belonged.

I lay still, not wanting to disturb Michelle, and listened for Gregor. The apartment was warm despite the snowstorm tapping the windows, and still dark aside from the white glow spilling in through the glass. It was so nice to wake up on a winter morning without feeling any drafts.

I heard the rising gurgle of a coffee machine break the stillness, and then a faint yawn. The smell of brewing dark roast started filling the air, and I smiled, relaxing. He was definitely home.

It stunned me how much he had done for the both of us in such a short time. We barely knew each other, but he had already returned my daughter, protected us both, and helped make sure I would have the money to get us to a better environment and care for my daughter. He was providing us with safety even now, at risk to himself. Though, I noticed, he didn’t seem too worried as he puttered around his kitchen.

Then again, he was tough as nails, and I was a marshmallow. The last year had battered me into a desperate mess, and he had given me back my hope. My support group had tried to shore me up, but they hadn’t put themselves at risk to retrieve my child. No one but he had done it, and thus, only he had succeeded.

The whole time we had been back together, he had barely made a move on me. I had seen the heat in his eyes, felt it growing between us. I had craved him the whole time—I had never stopped craving him—but my screaming need for my daughter had all but drowned that out.

Now, with her safe in my arms, all I wanted—besides revenge against her kidnappers—was him. The desire to feel his body on mine again, to feel his arms around me and his cock inside me rang through me with such strength that I blushed. It lingered, refusing to fade and let me drop back off to sleep. My body’s demands were so urgent that after a while, all I could do was gently slip out of bed, make sure my daughter was properly tucked in, and wrap myself in my borrowed robe. Then I made my way outside, leaving the door unlatched. Michelle didn’t like being shut into rooms alone anymore.

Gregor straightened the moment I walked into the kitchen, he was stirring sugar into coffee that smelled strong enough a spoon would stand up in it. He looked back and saw me and smiled. “Good morning. Do you want a cup?”

I swallowed. My body was humming like an electric current was running through it. Never in my life had I gotten up the nerve to just ask a man for sex. Even our first time together, he had coaxed it out of me. Now, still a little overwhelmed from last night, I felt my nerves failing me.

“Sure, thanks. What time is it?” I looked out the one uncovered window and noticed the swirling snow had a faint yellowish light behind it. Early-morning light filtered by cloud and storm.

“Seven thirty. Sorry I got in so late.” He poured me coffee into one of his giant, heavy crockery mugs. I had to take it with both hands. “There was some trouble.”

That woke me up a little, I felt a shiver of my old worries run through me, clashing with the heat between my thighs. “What happened?”

He hesitated. “I’m not sure this is a conversation to have before our first cup of coffee.”

He had a point, but my worries had flickered back to life. “Okay.” I took a sip of mine, it stung my lips a little, but tasted amazing. “This is good. Surprised you didn’t make tea this morning.”

He saw my face and winced, but played along for the moment. Normalcy. “Need the caffeine jolt when my sleep’s been inadequate.” A few more sips, and then he sighed, feeling me watching him. “It’s worrying you more to wait on hearing it, isn’t it?” he finally asked.

I nodded. “I’m sorry. I think I’m just wired that way. Or maybe all this being kept in the dark by the cops has fucked with my patience.”

“All right. I will try to remember that.” He set his mug down. “Someone was staking out your house. But unless I’m making a big oversight, I don’t think he has anything to do with the people who took your daughter.”

My heart was beating fast. “Who, then? Who else would possibly want to stalk me?”

“Your ex.”

I stared at him. “Alan?”

“That’s the one. No idea how long he’s been doing it, but last night he was especially active. Put a tracker on your car and then tried to get into the building.”

All the air felt like it had been sucked out of the room. Alan, you creepy, unbalanced, corrupt son of a bitch. “You caught him at it?”

“I did. So did the security cameras and, I presume, your dash cam.”

“What happened? What did you say to each other?” I struggled to process this. “I just can’t believe this. He was always a selfish ass, but I didn’t expect him to go full stalker when he knew I could retaliate.”

“Ah, yes, about that.” He offered a small, apologetic smile. “I don’t think he aimed to give you the chance to retaliate.”

The truth sank into me like sharp icicles. “How bad was it?”

“Are you absolutely sure that you—?”

“Gregor,” I prodded, bracing myself for his answer.

He sighed and scratched his temple uncomfortably, his smile dying. “Rape kit and weapons bad.”

“Jesus.” Lorelei had warned me about this. When a boyfriend was abusive or had those tendencies, they would get ten times worse when you left. I had sensed something bad in him, endured his heartless words and behaviors, and had done everything I could to let him think that breaking up was his idea. But here we were anyway, because he would rewrite history in his own head just to be able to blame me for everything.

But then Gregor had given him a talking-to. Had he listened to another man when he would never have listened to me? I had another thought, Gregor didn’t seem the kind of man who would settle for a conversation, after hearing how he rescued Michelle I knew what he was capable of, yet for some reason it didn’t scare me. “How did you handle it?”

“Told him to get the fuck out of town and never bother you again, or I’d release the videos and records of his stalking and threatening you to the media, and then I’d come looking for him.”

That last threat caught my attention in a strange way, reminding me again of the heat deep in my body that even my worst fears couldn’t extinguish. Seeing the cold anger in his eyes when he talked of Alan, thinking of him hurting Alan while he protected me, didn’t just make me feel safe. It was also fuel for the fire.

But I still had practical things to worry about. I fumbled for my mug, got another mouthful of coffee down. “God, I have to move out of that place. Go somewhere he doesn’t know.”

“You can stay here as long as you need to,” he reassured me instantly. “We’ll just need to grab your stuff.”

I huffed my way into silence, everything I had been thinking of saying evaporating on my tongue. Here he was again, rushing to protect me. He had been a bodyguard before, but I had hired him as an investigator.

I wanted to ask him why he gave so much of a damn when he didn’t have to. Why the money, why the effort, why the anger on my behalf, why the rescues. But then I realized maybe this was just how he was. Not every man out there was a prick like Alan or my father. But my experience with them had started leading me to expect the worst.

Gregor gave a damn, and he acted on it. It wasn’t conditional. He didn’t seem to care how much effort it took for him to act on his feelings. How much risk was involved. He just went and got it done. For us. For me.

I had to have him.

The thought was immediate, primal, and overwhelming. I set my mug down again, then stepped up to him, took the mug out of his hands, and set it aside too. He blinked down at me, surprised.

“Thank you for dealing with him. But I don’t want to talk about Alan anymore, not unless he’s dumb enough to pop back up.” I stepped forward again and ran my hands up his chest, feeling the hardness of his muscles under my palm.

His eyes widened a little, startled, then hooded with pleasure. “What do you want to talk about?” he murmured, hands drifting to my shoulders.

“I don’t want to talk,” I said softly, slipping into the circle of his arms. I had to go up onto my toes to kiss him. I put five years of pent-up hunger into it, and he responded, catching me in his arms and kissing back hungrily.

For a moment, all the years between our last kiss and this one dissolved, and I was that enthralled young near-virgin again. I melted in his arms as our tongues entwined, lips hungry and searching, stunned by my first kiss in years that had real passion in it. I was back in his arms, finally, and right then, nothing would have made me pull away. The combination of relief, want, and need spiraled through me and all I could think about was having him inside me.

Gregor carried me to his bed, I held in my moans until he’d shut the bedroom door behind us. We’d both been starved for each other. I learned soon enough that it wasn’t just me—not the way he destroyed his shirt getting out of it, broke the zipper on his pants, panted like he was running as he watched me impatiently pull off my clothes. I was already aching for him. Then he was naked standing in front of me and my breath caught. The man was a work of art, literally and figuratively. From the elaborate tattoos to his tight, hard, muscled frame. My eyes drifted downwards to his cock, and I couldn’t hold in the gasp that escaped my lips.

He looked up at me and slowly licked his lips, “Like what you see?”

I nodded as I shifted up his bed, “I forgot how big you were,”

“If I remember correctly, we fit together perfectly,” he said while slowly stroking his shaft. A bead of precum slipped out and he rubbed it in with his thumb.

I yearned for him, the man who had revealed the depths of what it was like to be properly loved, to feel the ecstasy igniting  every nerve ending within me. The pulsating ache between my thighs spoke of an urgent need. As he ascended onto the bed, his approach deliberate, his mouth claimed mine in a commanding kiss, and the unmistakable pressure of his arousal pressed against my stomach.

I shifted beneath his weight, his deliberate touch sending shivers through me as he caressed my clit.

"My little rose is as tempting as ever," he growled, his lips trailing down my neck, leaving a teasing path with his tongue. I moaned in response.

"I fantasized about this," he confessed, fixing me with a lustful gaze, his dark eyes betraying his desires. Lowering his head, he hovered just above my nipple, his breath teasing it into a tight bud. Electric shocks fired through me as he took my nipple in his mouth and sucked, pulling the exquisitely tender flesh into his mouth greedily, his other hand cupping my other breast.

“I’ve been thinking about you too,” I whispered.

He lifted his mouth from me, and I was fighting the urge to scream at him to suck harder, to fuck me. To fill me completely. That night with him had been a rare moment of surrender, the only time I had truly lost control with a man. It remained etched in my memory, a vivid recollection of pleasure and ecstasy the only time I ever orgasmed, other than when I touched myself while thinking of him inside me.

"And what was my little rose thinking about? Did she want me to do this?" His mouth returned to my nipple, his tongue swirling around the taut peak, teasing me to new heights. "Or perhaps this," his voice, thick with lust, resonated as I felt the weight of his arousal pressing against my thigh. Anticipation hung in the air, and I held my breath as his tongue slowly trailed down my stomach, pausing just at the top of my slit.

"Mmm," I managed to utter, parting my legs in an unspoken invitation.

"In your thoughts, how did it feel when I did this?" His tongue glided down my slit and back up again, capturing my clit between his lips, sucking gently as his hands cupped my ass.

The explicit sensations elicited a primal response. "Oh fuck, fuck," I moaned, unable to contain the intense pleasure.

A dark chuckle escaped him as his fingers parted me, and his tongue delved in. Shudders wracked my body, and I couldn’t help but moan in response to the divine torture he expertly inflicted. The ache for him was undeniable, and in the midst of my trembling and gasping, I couldn’t hold back the desperate plea, "Need you," I gasped, the words escaping in a breathless whisper.

In response, his tongue expertly lapped at my clit, and I felt a satisfying fullness as he slipped in a finger.

"Fuck, you’re so wet," he remarked, drawing his finger out and deliberately sucking it. "And you taste how I remembered, so good."

As he slid his finger back inside me, I squirmed and bucked my hips, teetering on the brink of release, yearning for his cock. Adding another finger, he began a deliberate rhythm, stroking me, while his lips rediscovered my clit.

"Come for me, Alissa. Let go, I want to feel your tight pussy clenching around my fingers, and then I’m going to make you come on my cock."

I moaned and shuddered, my plea desperate, "Need your cock, I want you in me."

"Patience, milaya. I want to see you lose control, let go." His fingers delved deeper, entwining and twisting, while he gently sucked my swollen clit. That was the catalyst; suddenly, my body convulsed, and I unraveled in a moaning crescendo. His expert fingers and lips coaxed out an orgasm that felt endless.

After what seemed like an eternity, I lay there, gasping for breath. My eyes flickered open to find Gregor sitting back on his heels, a satisfied expression on his face. His rigid cock strained, and instead of feeling spent after my explosive orgasm, my clit throbbed in response as he leisurely stroked himself, his gaze fixed on me. The instinct to part my legs in invitation tugged at me, but then a desire took hold—I wanted to ride him, to witness him lose control beneath me.

“Ready for the main course,” he said while rolling on a rubber.

“Maybe this is the entrée?” I responded. After the stress and strain of the past year I was ready to let go of everything, of the anger, the loss, the grief, the worry, the frustration, and just live in the moment. This delicious, never-ending moment knowing my world was complete.

Gregor gave a deep laugh, “I’ll let my little rose choose the menu then. Where do you want me?”

“Lie down,” I said boldly. “I want to ride you.”

“Another of your little daydreams, milaya?” he teased.

Maybe," I responded as I playfully pushed him back toward the pillows. Riding his cock had been a recurring fantasy of mine.

Feeling courageous, I straddled him, bringing the tip of his straining cock to rub against my swollen clit, impatient for him to fill me,  but relishing the tease.

He moaned, "Fuck, that feels good already."

Circling my hips, I maintained contact with his cockhead, deliberately not going any further. I wanted to see how long it would take for him to beg for more. Amidst the throbbing of my clit and the coating of his shaft with my wetness, it was uncertain who would last the longest in this delicious torture.

Pausing for a moment, his hips bucked. Smirking, I lifted myself slightly, maintaining contact.

"Fuck," Gregor gasped.

I leaned forward so my breasts fell in his face and his lips captured my nipple, tugging and pulling. Arching my back, I angled myself so his cock was notched against my entrance and moved so the tip slipped in. I gasped in shock, I’d forgotten just how big he was.

Gregor’s breathing was ragged, and I could feel his cock twitch. Both of us were on the edge. I needed him in me, needed that fullness.

Leaning back again I slowly sank down over him, easing his cock in, inch by inch. He trembled and arched under me, a hoarse groan escaping his lips as I tried to fit all of his cock into me. I looked down to see what he saw, and the sight was so erotic—his magnificent cock, drenched in my wetness as it slowly disappeared into my pussy.

“So tight,” he hissed. “So good, my little rose feels so good. Look at you, you’re perfect.”

Any self-consciousness I had about being on show went as I leaned back allowing him a better view.

I bucked experimentally, going slowly at first, already breathless from the feeling of him inside. I gasped and suddenly he was all inside me, my thighs were trembling with the sensation of fullness as I slowly started moving. His hands had settled onto my hips, fingertips digging into my flesh just a little with every move of my body. Once I had gotten accustomed to his size, my movements quickened, rising up and down his shaft, almost pulling off him and then taking him to the hilt.

We thrust together eagerly, impatiently, going faster, while my aching pussy tightened around him more and more. I whimpered and moaned as I felt years of tension build up in my body, stoked further with each roll of his hips under me, each hoarse pant, each soft gasp of my name.

Every thrust felt better than the last, each movement causing my swollen clit to be tugged. I fought to keep my voice down as his hands roamed over my body and settled on my breasts, thumbs sliding back and forth over my nipples as I ground against him.

I was going to scream. I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t hold it back. It was building in my throat as ecstasy built in my body. I tried to bring my hands up to muffle it, but they were clutching at Gregor’s shoulders as I moved against him wildly. I tried to warn Gregor, but all that came out were sobs of pleasure. And I couldn’t stop.

Just as my climax hit like a train, Gregor lunged up suddenly and kissed me fiercely. My back arched and I writhed against him wildly, and a heartbeat later, my world shattered into bliss. Between the waves of ecstasy, I heard Gregor’s orgasmic groans, and felt his cock jump and shudder inside me.

We collapsed onto his bed together, breathless, feeling the aftershocks rock through us as I lay trembling on his chest. I had a million things I wanted to say to him right then, but I didn’t even have the strength to move. Maybe dessert would have to wait until later. I drifted off before I could speak.