Yours: A Forever After Novella (11 page)

Complying with his high-handed demand, I slam myself down on top of him and scream.

“Yes!”

Our movements are frenzied and desperate. There is no finesse. No soft strokes or gentle caresses. This is raw fucking at its finest. Brutal thrusts, teeth, lips, and hands grabbing, squeezing, claiming. As Lyric’s rigid cock pounds into my pussy from beneath me, he growls and I moan while I hold on for the ride, helpless to do anything else.

It could be minutes or maybe hours before I feel Lyric’s cock throb inside me. My pussy flutters around him in answer, clamping down harshly when it hits that special spot that makes me shiver in anticipation of what’s to come.

“Finger on your clit, baby. Get yourself there while I watch,” Lyric rumbles – his voice so deep and commanding that goosebumps break out across the surface of my skin.

I slip two fingers in a V shape around the base of Lyric’s cock, sliding them back until they open my pussy lips and expose my clit to the cool air. Moving them back and forth, swirling the impossibly hard nub, I cry out as the first shudders of my climax crash over me and threaten to pull me under.

Stars explode behind my eyes, and Lyric’s bellow of completion matches the intensity of my own orgasm so perfectly that you would think they were two halves of one whole. And in a way, I suppose they are.

As individuals we aren’t perfect, neither is the history of our relationship. There are still a lot of things we have to work out, to decide on, such as our living arrangements and whether or not I will continue to work after the baby is born. Both of us have made mistakes, and as sure as I am of my love for Lyric, I’m certain we’ll make more.

But there’s one I’m even more sure of than our propensity to fuck up and then make up, and that’s our ability to overcome anything as long as we’re together.

Mine and Lyric’s journey is far from over. In fact, this is just an alternate beginning to a tale that began long ago. This time, though, instead of believing everything will work out the way it is supposed to, I am going to trust that it will. No more doubt. No more running. I’m in this with Lyric for the long haul, one crazy twist and turn at a time.

EPILOGUE

~ Lyric ~

“Stop fucking rushing me, woman. It’s not like they’re going to start without us,” I say, using the back of the couch to protect my balls, avoiding my violent, traitorous wife.

“Give. Him. To. Me,” Harleigh growls, holding out her arms and tapping her foot impatiently.

Ha, yeah, that is so not going to happen. The second I hand him over to Harleigh, I’m fair game. And after the last hour we’ve spent arguing over her agreeing we’d go to this party without asking me, I doubt I’ll make it to the hall before she rips my balls off and plays Hacky Sack with them.

“Not on your life,” I eventually reply, cradling my infant son in front of me like a shield.

“Fine,” she huffs. “Then consider my offer of a blowjob with me in nothing but thigh high’s rescinded until further notice.”

And fuck if that doesn’t have me changing my mind in the time it takes for the sly little grin to tease my wife’s lips.

She damn well knows there’s only one thing that will guarantee I’ll relinquish my son to someone else willingly, and that’s the promise of Harleigh’s naked body any way I can get it. Thigh high’s or not, the rest of her will be bare, ripe, and exposed, ready for me to touch, taste, and fuck as hard and long as I want.

“You win this round, but you bet your ass you’ll be making good on that promise later tonight,” I mutter, placing our now sleeping seven-week-old son, Zac, in her arms.

Winking at me, Harleigh strides off down the hall to put, Zac in his crib saying,

“Sure. And if you’re a very good boy, I’ll even do that thing with my tongue you like so much.”

Fucking A! You better believe I’ll be on my best behavior now. Not that I wouldn’t have been anyway; Faye’s gone to a lot of trouble to make tonight go off without a hitch. And although I appreciate the effort, I’d prefer to be at home buried inside my wife’s tight, wet pussy than sitting around with a bunch of guys drinking beer.

Darkness Rising has a studio break where they’ll be working on new material until they go back on tour in the spring. It’s not often that everyone’s in town at the same time, so Faye jumped on the chance to get us all together for a non-business dinner.

All the men who work security for the band and their significant others will be there, but Faye deemed this gathering, no children allowed. Why? I don’t fucking know. Nobody else has complained about it, but they don’t have a not even two-month-old son they were just separated from for a week. Fuckers.

Leaving my wife and son for any amount of time is almost impossible. I feel like I’m missing integral parts of me when I walk out the door and know I won’t be coming home that night. Thankfully, it isn’t often that I’ll have to leave Harleigh and Zac behind. Especially after the conversation I had with, Jake earlier.

A few months back, Jake told me this would be his last tour. He wasn’t quitting, he just needed to stay close to home for a while. At first, I couldn’t see how we could make it work. Jake’s SWAT training made him an important, almost irreplaceable part of the team, and losing him would be a massive blow, but I got it.

It wasn’t so much what he said, but what he didn’t say that tipped me off that there was a woman at the heart of his desire to put down roots. I’d seen him eyeing the cute, timid Farrah all night at the club where Darkness Rising announced their new album. They both disappeared for a while, but later and alone, Jake returned looking like someone had run over his puppy.

A week later, Jake approached me with a solution that would benefit all the guys on the team, myself included. His suggestion was to start an industry specific company that would essentially sub-contract out highly skilled security professionals on a per job basis. Pretty much, like a meat market for trained killers. Of course, we’d have to reword the tagline, but you get the gist.

We’re still in the throes of getting it off the ground, but with Jake’s contacts from his previous position with L.A. SWAT, and my resources from my years spent as a member of Vengeance MC, we were well on our way to securing a solid group of men to work with us. One of which is, Talon, Kennedy’s son, and Cash’s stepson who went nomad six months ago.

Stepping up beside me, Harleigh wraps her arms around my waist and presses her lips to my cheek.

“I promise we won’t stay long, honey. Two, three hours’ tops.”

Sighing in defeat, I tug her closer and walk us out to my truck.

“Are your parents taking, Zac with them back to the hotel or staying here?”

Fury and Avery arrived yesterday to spend some time with their Grandson. They intended to be in town for a few days, possibly a week but refused Harleigh’s offer to stay with us. Not that I blame her dad; I wouldn’t want to sleep under the same roof as the man who’s fucking my daughter, either.

“Hotel,” she mumbles, buckling her seatbelt.

“Thank fuck for small mercies,” I mutter under my breath.

*****

Shoving the final inch of my cock into her mouth, I growl when I feel the muscles of Harleigh’s throat contract around me. My breath comes out in a hiss as she works my shaft leisurely with her hand, paying close attention to the sensitive ridge around the head of my dick.

One of her hands roam over my chest, teasing my nipples with her fingernails, the other fondles my balls, rolling them gently in her palm. But it’s when her soft, wet tongue licks my balls that I come undone.

“Shit…fuck, Angel. I’m gonna come if you keep that up.” I don’t want this to end so soon, but Harleigh seems to have other ideas.

Harleigh circling my tip with her tongue, sucking my balls into her mouth, and bathing my shaft with so much attention is the definition of fan-fucking-tastic. But seeing her in nothing but sheer black, lace-toped thigh high’s is my fantasy come to life.

As her tongue flattens, stroking over the pronounced vein on the underside of my cock, I decide I’ve had enough. I need to be inside her, not wasting my come in her mouth. There’s no way I’m getting her knocked up again if she’s swallowing my load.

This is a bone of contention between us; me wanting Harleigh round and pregnant again ASAP, and her wanting a year or so gap between our kids. The thing is, and Harleigh knows it, this is a fight she’ll never win. I have cock on my side, and my wife is nothing if not cock hungry. One word about withholding my dick from her if she doesn’t let me plant my baby in her, and she’ll cave.

It’s a shitty thing to do, but as they say; all’s fair in love and war.

Flipping her onto her stomach, my hand find purchase on Harleigh’s hips. I line the head of my cock up with her sopping wet cunt and slam every inch inside of her before she can utter a word of complaint.

“Fuck you feel good,” I rumble in her ear, leaning over her so that my chest is pressed hard up against her back.

Tilting her hips, urging me to go deeper, I give her she needs.

“Harder. Oh fuck, Lyric. Harder. Please.”

The sexy mewls along with her rippling pussy almost push me over the edge into one of the most powerful orgasms I’ve ever had. But with a fuck ton of restraint, I hold off. There’s no way I’m coming before Harleigh. Not today. Not ever.

I drive deeper, the head of my cock practically kissing her womb, making Harleigh beg and writhe. Her tits are heaving, her cheeks flushed, and her lids heavy as I fuck her hard than I ever have before. I can see her in our mirrored headboard, and she’s never looked sexier.

The wet slap of skin on skin, her pants and the way Harleigh’s pussy tightens painfully around my dick, snaps the last shred of my self-control. I pull her hair; she arches into me. I slap her ass; she clenches my cock harder. I bite her shoulder; Harleigh comes all over my cock. Leaving me with only one thing left to do.

Wrapping my hand around her throat, I pull Harleigh upright so she’s on her knees in front of me. Her eyes are locked on mine in the mirror as I plant myself to the root one last time and let go. Coming deep, hard, and explosively, I murmur,

“I love you, baby. Every last piece of me is yours.” 

Claimed…

The next novella in the Forever After series

***Please Note***

Content is subject to change by the author at any time before publication

CHAPTER ONE

~ Farrah ~

“Stop staring. He’s going to come over here and then what will you do?” My best friend Sophie whisper yells.

The bass pounding from the speakers reverberates over my skin like a caress. The alcohol I’ve consumed lowers my inhibitions and makes me consider doing things to him that I only dream about when I’m at home alone. I can feel his eyes roaming my body, the intensity in them melting away the last of my defenses, and it’s then that I realize I should never have come out tonight.

Except I had to. Something inside told me I had to see him, that I had to witness him make the biggest mistake of his life so that I could go on with mine.

Flipping my long, curly blonde hair over my shoulder, I turn to Sophie and shrug.

“Tell him the truth, I suppose.”

“Ah, I hate to say it babe, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

And she’s probably right. Telling the secret star of all of my teenage and womanly fantasies that you want one night with him before he enters into the sanctity of marriage with a psychotic, sociopathic she-bitch would be highly inappropriate. Especially considering that said star is my brother’s oldest and best friend, which will only make it awkward for him and humiliating for me when he turns me down.

Because let’s face it; a man who looks like, Jake, all six foot seven, two hundred and sixty pounds of solid muscle, covered in sexy black ink, who is smart, considerate, generous, and considered the most eligible bachelor in L.A. wouldn’t want someone like me. Why? Because no one wants quiet, shy, boring, Farrah, that’s why.

Before you ask, no, I’m not hideous. I do not need a paper bag to cover my face or plastic surgery to correct some horrible disfiguration. I’m just plain. Plain Jane, Farrah. Nothing remarkable to report. No redeeming feature to focus on. I’m just me, and I’ve learned to be okay with that.

With a best friend who looks like a supermodel just having walked off the catwalk and a new group of friends, each one more blindingly beautiful than the last, I don’t stand a hope in hell of attracting a man’s attention. Let alone his. Jake wouldn’t even look twice at me if it weren’t for the fact he’s known me my whole life and my brother is his closest friend.

Facing the cold, hard truth of my situation wasn’t easy. Learning to accept that the only man who has ever made me feel safe, yet so utterly alive at the same time will never be mine was even harder. But it had to be done. I had to get my head out the clouds and stop doodling Jake’s name in my notebook at some point, imagining white picket fences, adorable dark haired babies, and a partridge in a pear tree. That just wasn’t my lot in life. It never would be. Not with Jake, at least.

But being the good friend she is or not, considering what happens next, Sophie sees where my thoughts have gone and orders us a round or five of lemon drops, and that’s when things get hazy…

*****

The hand behind my neck, pulls me closer, slamming my small body into his broad, powerful chest as his mouth collides with mine. His lips attack and his tongue plunders my mouth with the same desperation I feel thrumming through my veins at his touch.

I had gone to the bathroom after lemon drop number four, only to find myself hauled into the back hallway of the club we were in by a man I had a feeling I knew but couldn’t see through the shadows. I should have tried to stop him when he pushed me against the wall and started manhandling me, but something told me not to.

Maybe it was the sensation of his surprisingly gentle hands on my exposed skin or the way I could sense his eyes assessing my comfort level as he tore my panties from my body. Or possibly it was the way he hung on every moan, every whimper that slipped past my lips as he fondled my breasts. Who knows? But whatever the reason, I don’t think I could stop him now even if I wanted to. And just to be clear, I don’t. Want to stop him that is.

The top of my dress is pushed down beneath my breasts, leaving them bare and chilled by the cool air. The tip of mystery man’s tongue flicks at my engorged nipple as he teases it, making it impossible harder before sucking it deep into the hot recesses of his mouth.

“Oh…oh God,” I whisper as he slips his hand between us and runs one long finger through my already drenched pussy.

“I’ve been watching you all night,” he growls low in the back of his throat. “Seeing you dancing in this dress that hugs your perfect curves and shows off your tits, was almost more than I could handle. Every man in this club wanted to fuck you in this dress. They wanted to do exactly what I’m doing now, except they would never have gotten the chance. You were mine the second I saw you, and it's time you learned what happens when you tempt other men with what was intended to be for my eyes only.”

Evidence that this man finds me attractive lays thick and hard against my stomach. From the outline of his erection, the way it fills out his jeans, it is safe to say this guy is packing some serious equipment below the belt. His cock is huge and throbbing, his erection stretching above the waistband of his jeans, which has me licking my lips as I go over the logistics of how something that big will fit inside me.

There’s no more time to think, though, as mystery man spreads my legs and hoists me up, pinning me to the wall with his massive body.

“Wrap your legs around my waist and hold on, beautiful,” he instructs, unfastening and pulling down the zipper of his jeans.

He doesn’t check if I’ve changed my mind, which I haven’t. He doesn’t stop to see if I’m ready for the beautifully brutal invasion of his thick cock. Instead, mystery man slides the head of his erection along my folds a few times before thrusting inside of me.

The noises of the club drown out my pained whimper at the burning stretch his intrusion causes. If he noticed my flinch or heard my muffled cries, he doesn’t say anything. And with every push and pull of his cock as he begins to fuck me earnest, my already tender pussy screams in agony.

On the list of ‘should have’s,’ I should have told this man I haven’t done this before. I don’t just mean sex with a random stranger, I mean sex at all. It isn’t like I haven’t wanted to or had the opportunity, I have. The reason for my lack of experience is that the man I had saved myself for all these years didn’t want me. He may not have said as much because let’s be honest, I never asked him outright, but he didn’t need to. Countless times, I had all but offered myself up to Jake on a silver platter, only to watch him turn his back on me and walk away.

With on hand on my ass and the other at my breast, tweaking my nipple, mystery man’s scent surrounds me. I recognize the cologne instantly, and again I’m reminded of Jake.

Why is it that when I’m desperately trying to forget him, I still manage to compare everyone to him? I suppose that’s what happens when you’re suffering from unrequited love, or at least, that’s what Sophie tells me. And she would know since she has a rather bad case of it herself.

“Fuck, you’re tight, sweetheart,” he growls just before he covers my mouth with his.

Refusing to let thoughts of Jake ruin my moment with this man, I thread my fingers through his hair and kiss him back like my life depends on it. And damn if this man doesn’t know how to kiss.

His lips are firm, yet soft. His tongue is strong, and explores my mouth leisurely, yet thoroughly. It isn’t tender or sweet, the way he takes over and demands I give him more, but it isn’t detached or cold like I had expected it to be either.

Long somewhat painful minutes later, mystery man is spilling himself inside of me, groaning my name.

“God, Farrah. Fuck. You’ve got no idea how much I needed this.”

Blinking up at him, something dark unfurls in the pit of my stomach. The drinks I consumed earlier threatening to make an untimely reappearance. I know that voice. This is the rich timber I hear in my dreams every night when I allow my mind to fantasize about what it would be like to be claimed by him.

“Oh, no. Oh God, no,” I shudder, unable to stop my pussy from convulsing around him.

As soon as he realizes I’ve worked out who he is, Jake buries his face in the side of my neck and slowly pulls out of me.

“Farrah…”

No. Oh fucking hell no. Jake is supposed to be getting married tomorrow. No, he
is
getting married tomorrow.

Recognition burns as brightly as my humiliation when all the puzzle pieces start fitting together. Jake must have overheard Sophie and me at the bar. He must have heard that I intended to throw myself at him. So instead of letting me make a fool of myself in front of our friends and families, he took pity on me. That’s what this is; a pity fuck. Now his comment makes sense. Him saying he needed this had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with his release.

Oh God, I am so stupid. So fucking, fucking stupid.

Shame, anger, and guilt wash over me as I hurry to straighten my dress. Sure, I may have said I was going to proposition Jake for sex, but I never would have gone through with it. That’s just not who I am. Except now, now I am that woman. The other woman. I just slept with a soon-to-be-married man.

“Farrah, wait,” Jake calls out as I start hustling to the back exit. “Fuck, just wait a minute. I didn’t mean it like that,” he states with a tinge of desperation lacing his tone.

Turning to face him, I shake my head and bring my hand up to swipe at the wetness covering my cheeks.

“I am so sorry. This was a mistake. A horrible, awful mistake. I promise I won’t say anything to her. Just forget it ever happened. Just forget me, Jake,” I finish with tears clouding my vision as I push through the back door and out into the cold night air. Alone.

Jake doesn’t follow me. He doesn’t call or text. Nothing. But then, what did I expect? I told him to forget me, and he did.

*****

That night was both the best and worst of my life, and no matter how hard I’ve tried, I can’t forget it or him. It doesn’t help matters that I have a daily reminder of our night together, but I wouldn’t change that for anything.

In the four months since the wedding that never ended up taking place, Jake has practically fallen off the face of the Earth. I don’t have all the details, but my brother, Simon told me, Leslie, Jake’s fiancée called it off the wedding at the last minute, and is now suing Jake for pain and suffering. Crazy bitch! 

Dropping a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, Sophie slumps down on the couch beside me, rubbing my barely there baby bump.

“I saw him today,” she mutters absently. “At the grocery store. He looked rough, Farrah.”

“Mmhmm, that’s nice,” I say, attempting to keep my tone neutral when actually I want to pump her for information.

“Really? That’s all you’re going to say? Your baby daddy finally shows up in town after being God knows where, doing fuck knows what, and all you can say is, that’s nice?”

“What do you want me to say? Where Jake goes and what he does is none of my business, Soph. We may have been friends before, but even then, he didn’t tell me much about his work,” I shrug.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” she huffs. “You love him, and he loves you. You’re carrying his child for God’s sake. Not that he’d know because you haven’t worked up the courage to tell him yet, or Simon for that matter. How long are you going to draw this out, F. You know I love you, you’re my best friend, but he deserves to know.”