CHERISH (76 page)

I poke my head into her bedroom and roll my eyes until it hurts.

Her dresser looks like it’s in the middle of a drunken, projectile vomit with socks and t-shirts and who knows what hanging out of six open drawers.

“Do you know how to fold clothes?” I push my hands in my pockets and try not to laugh at her. “You know, like in squares?”

“Shut up. I’m trying to decide what to bring. This is tough.”

“Uh huh. I told you to pack
one
suitcase, and I’ll send the movers to do the rest.” I take a few more steps into the whirlwind and swivel my head, trying to make sense of the beautiful chaos she produces. “You don’t need to make this a damn circus. Seriously, Promise.” She is jamming wads of clothing into a suitcase like she’s stuffing a freakin’ turkey. “Fold that shit before you stuff it in there.”

She and I are going to go round and round; I can see it now.

“What’s the difference if I fold it or not? It takes up just as much room, and who cares?”

Lord. Jesus take the damn wheel because I can see divine intervention is going to be needed.

“Just get what you really want, and
let’s go
.” Her hair is a mile of a mess, and her cheeks are pink like she’s been sitting in the sun.

“Don’t
rush
me.” She starts looking around the room before she continues, talking a mile a minute. “I want to get all my paints and my easel, and I want to take at least some of my paintings, and probably my pillows. I definitely need my blanket, my alarm clock and . . . and . . .”

I shut my eyes and try to remember how to pray.

“It’s been six days since you unpacked—
wait, I unpacked
—your suitcases and officially moved in here.” I take a deep breath with my face buried in her hair. I’ll never tire of her scent. “If you can’t tell my moods by now, maybe I made a mistake asking you to move in here,” I whisper playfully. I’ve got her back pulled against my chest, and she’s wiggling her booty into me, knowing exactly what that’s going to get her.

The loft is dark except a blinking streetlight out front that is casting on and off shadows over the white bedding. I’ve kept he damn heat set on eighty because I like my girl running around naked.

It took her a few days of training, but after the third time I tore her bra and panties off, she got the message that when we’re alone, I don’t want anything covering her. She’s just that beautiful.

“What are you talking about?” Her sleepy voice raises up as she pokes her head out from under the covers. It’s four am, and my cock is wide awake, but my girl isn’t. “I
do
know your moods. There’s horny, really horny and caveman. I don’t know a lot about this stuff, but is it normal? For a guy to be like this as often as you are?”

“Normal doesn't interest me. And, I have no fucking idea about the hard-on habits of other guys. All I know is you have cast your pussy voodoo on me, so this is your fault. And you know damn well what’s going to happen when you press your ass into me like that.”

She lets out a long, slow moan as my fingers dance over her hip, and then I finger walk them down to her pussy and her legs open without hesitation.

Fuck
, her sweet, wet heat soaks my fingers, and she pushes the curves of her ass into me harder, into my Energizer Bunny dick.

“Take it, babe.” I settle my hands on her hips and guide myself into her from the back. My beauty is drenched, and she rains that delicious wonder all over my cock’s head as I enter her.

Stroking back and forth, slow and steady, I start alternating bites and kisses up and down the side of her neck, pausing to lick and suck her ear before pushing deep until the softness of her ass is against my hips.

My lips working her neck is her kryptonite, and I feel her pussy dance and send out a river of juice that turns me into a rutting boar.

“You like that, don’t you?”

“Um hmmm.”

My shy baby has her own inner siren. Don’t let her fool you, she’s jumped my sleeping ass a couple times in the last couple days. Coming into her own, taking charge and realizing this is exactly who we are and who we should be.

Slut is not a bad word here. Not between us. She is my personal slut and she has come to understand what that means and how much it brings us together. I’m not sure what I did with all my time before her because we damn near spend eight hours a day on each other in one way or another.

These days with her here are, bar none, the best of my life.

Her hands swing behind her. Groping and greedy, taking whatever pieces of my flesh she can touch.

“Shhhhh, babe. Just let me have you. Let me take care of you. Give you what you need.”

I slip easily in and out. Her pussy’s greasing us, and my mouth is watering. Her back curls as she pushes onto me. I bring my hand around her belly and set into her wet slit. I spin my middle finger around her clit, then slip lower, back up, then down until her hips begin to shake. I revel in her softness, the heat there. The wetter she is, the happier I am.

She tenses, moaning, and I know she’s close.

“That’s my girl. That’s who you are, aren’t you? My babygirl?”

I work her clit in a circle until I hear the chimes of her climax build. I shift to free the hand I had under her neck and knot my fingers into her hair.

Slow and easy got us this far, but Promise is jerking her hips back into me, and I can hear her silent pleas for what she wants.

Harder.

“You want more? Babygirl, you want me deep, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispers as I give her the first gentle jerk of her hair, and her pussy damn near shoots off and strangles my cock as she tightens down.

I know how far to go without hurting her. It’s a lesson in self-control, but I would never harm her like that.

“
Oh god, more
. . .” She hisses as I tug her hair, jerking her head back and giving my little, ivory princess what she needs.

Hard, deep and fast.

I gouge my fingers into her drenched lower lips. Cupping her pussy, loving every halting breath, every silk fold and jerk of her body.

She’s a work of art at any given moment, but like this, she’s a priceless masterpiece that carves my heart right from my chest and settles it securely within her own.

“
God babe
, so good. You feel so fucking good. How do you feel better every single time?”

I hear her little soft, hissing laugh as I slam into her—the flesh-smacking sounds filling the high ceilings of the loft as I pull her head back hard, my primal animal rising up as her climax takes off, and I feel the waves of inner motion take over her body as her musical screams fill my ears.

Before her body stops quivering, I slip out of her, and she knows.

Babygirl learned quickly to savor the taste of me just as I savor the taste of her. Her face is flushed even in the dim light and her hair a wild mess as she gathers herself up onto the pillow as I straddle her chest; my dripping cock inches from her lips. Her little hands shoot out to grab at me and pull me to her mouth.

This is the pinnacle, giving her pleasure and seeing the way she craves my own. There can be nothing more intimate, nothing more stunning, than the woman you love, loving you with all her heart.

Her tongue comes out and begins its special magic around the head of my cock. I am already leaking, looking down at her priceless, pale body and the soft pink of her tongue touching me. My body tenses.

I wish I could watch and feel her do this for hours, but my girl just has a knack, and it never takes long for her to have me filling her mouth.

“Good girl.” My head falls back, and I draw in a breath from somewhere in heaven as her mouth closes around me and she draws me inside.

She fills my soul as she works, little sighs coming from her as she creates a unique work of art each time with her tongue.

We’ve spent hours in the last six days talking about everything.

One of them has been this.
Us
. Together in this way. Sex. Fucking. Making love. There’s no difference. I want no hesitation, no denial or disobedience when it comes to how we love each other.

I don't want any of societies’ puritanical bullshit to taint what is the most amazing connection two people can have. And, I’m not just talking about some quick and dirty hookup.

I meant
this.
What we have.

That one person created for us by some universal force beyond our knowledge. That one person who grows roots into your soul and you into theirs until you can’t figure out where one begins and the other ends. We are fused, and sex is part of how we worship that miracle of finding each other.

She understands, having lost all hesitation and insecurity within a day of me having her naked twenty-four hours straight and discovering how her body felt under my tongue, one inch at a time. By the time half of that first day was done, I’d tasted all of her several times over and claimed her completely as mine.

“Fuck babe, yes. God, take my cum. Let me see this time . . .”

Her throat takes me deep, and her tongue does something so out of this world, I let out the first jolting spray of cum without warning.

My muscles turn to stone, and my hands lodge on her cheeks, holding her face and thrusting down into her throat until she gags. I’ve learned her limits even like this. She likes it a bit rough and sure thing when I look down at her face, a little smile is in her eyes as she stares up at me.

I let out all I have into her mouth until it mixes with the spit on her chin, and then I pull out, my cock glistening.

“Let me see, babe.”

She opens her mouth obediently, showing me where she holds my essence on her tongue, her lips curling up into a smile, and then she fucking winks at me.

“Swallow, you pain in my ass. Don’t waste any, swallow it all.” I curl a half-smile, looking down at her with a shake of my head.

She’s going to kill me.

“Yes, Sir.” She closes her lips and does as she’s told, putting another nail in my damn coffin when she gives me a playful salute.

I slump down and pull her into me. As soon as she takes a breath, I lay my lips on hers and slip my tongue in to find hers. I love kissing her after she takes my cum.

Beautiful is a word so insufficient. I don’t know why I use it anymore when I think of her.

“I’ll never leave you.” I direct the words into her ear, then set my teeth on the pale skin just below.

I tell her this every day. After each time she takes me inside her, each time we love each other like this.

“You promise?” I hear the smile in her voice, and my heart works against mother nature to burst from my chest.

“I promise. Never. You’re stuck with me.”

Her breathing is slowing, her body as soft as down against me. I love how she raises one leg and drapes it like a lazy branch over mine, pulling herself closer.

“I’ve always thought my mom named me Promise because of the saying.” Her languid words are throaty and sound as seductive as her sounds from moments ago.

“What saying, babe?” Her body is so perfect, folded into me, so warm and soft. I feel like I’m touching heaven as I trace my fingertips up and down her arm.

“ ‘Promises are made to be broken.’—That one.” She sighs as she says it. “She used to say that to me all the time. Over and over. I didn’t understand it when I was little. Then, when I got old enough, I did.”

The smile in her voice is gone, and I hold her tighter.

“You might have started out broken,” I press my lips to her forehead, holding them there for a few seconds, “but I’m here to help put you back together. Nothing will hurt you like that again, babe. No one can break you. I promise.”

“Mom said once she named me Promise because my Dad promised he would never leave her. He did. He left the day I was born. I never even met him.” Her voice is tired. I curl her into me, and we fall into calm, easy breaths next to each other.

I want to find and kill every one of the people in her life that hurt her. Anyone that tossed her away like she didn’t matter. I want to comfort her and take it all away, but I don’t know how besides just showing her that I will never leave.

I kiss the top of her head and hope she can feel everything I’m thinking.

My last thoughts as I fall into that place of semi-consciousness just before you tip over into sleep is that I need to make an excuse to go out later after dawn's had a chance to break. I have an appointment to pick up a small but very special package; then I’ll show her exactly what that fourth finger on her left hand is really for.

I’m playing over and over the scene, I hope for as sleep begins to take us both.

Just as consciousness meets unconsciousness, we are bolted upright. Something is slamming against the front door. The hard, metal banging is echoing all around the tall ceilings when we hear the first, loud voice.

“
Open up.
POLICE.”