“I’ve been dying to see you for the past six hours,” he said and pulled her to him. He swept his tongue up and over the tiny hairs that covered the top of her sex, and then Maverick dragged his tongue between the lips to her clit. A short gasp escaped her parted lips. He squeezed the cheeks of her ass tighter. She was forced to bend her knees so he could come over his chest at his command. At first, confused, she soon understood his intentions when she planted each knee on either side of his face. He pulled her sex down to his beseeching tongue and left her powerless to stop him. Delilah groaned so hard every air passageway in her was blocked. The shocking delight sent currents of unfiltered pleasure through her pelvis. The moment she was seated in the position, she became a woman possessed as she rocked up and down on his face. The warmth of his mouth and probing tongue drove more pleasure through her body than all the years of her marriage. It didn’t take long for her to collapse both physically and emotionally into tears when she came the hardest she’d ever remembered doing so in life. Delilah tried to get off him. She didn’t believe she had any more to give. But his grip was iron tight, and he milked her clit and took all of her, every liquid drop of her, leaving her writhing in torture. She cried out in release and convulsed through another climactic shock.
“Please, please, Maverick, please,” she begged.
Delilah feared she’d go insane if he forced her into another orgasmic break. He let her go. Delilah crawled from him immediately while holding her pussy unable to believe what she felt or experienced. Delilah breathed hard into the pillow face down. She could hear him stripping off his clothes. She needed a moment, but there would be none. He dropped on her and entered her pussy from behind. Delilah bit into the pillowcase.
Oh yes.
His voice was pure sex against her ear as his long thickness eased deeper and deeper. “Is this what you came here for?”
“Mmhm,” she said into the pillow. Maverick rammed himself into her, and the friction burned so lovely. She loved feeling his weight on top of her. But if she didn’t lift her head and join in the lovemaking, she’d suffocate. Delilah moved, and he let up on the pressure but kept moving in and out of her. She clawed at the headboard helplessly. She gasped and dragged her nails down the headboard in a failing attempt to hang on.
“That’s right, baby, you belong to me now,” Maverick mumbled as he licked the sweat from her shoulder and nape. Her head, now lifted, bobbed up and down in agreement as he thrust into her repeatedly. Every stroke sent wave after another wave of heated bliss. And then he brought their climax to a conclusion. Shuddering hard on her and moving at a maximum velocity, she felt his break and shatter as she had.
Maverick fell over to his back. Delilah lay still. Trapped in complete disbelief. Should a woman mistake good sex for something meaningful? Because she’d never been happier or in love as she was at that moment.
“Delilah?” he said.
She tried to catch her breath to speak, but nothing came out. Concerned, Maverick turned to his side. “Are you okay?”
She mumbled her reply through tears. Maverick pulled her over into his arms, and she went to his chest for comfort. He moved her hair from her face. The love and compassion in his eyes restored her confidence. He lifted her chin and kissed her.
“Did we go too far?” he asked with mounting concern.
“I don’t know what is happening to us. Is it the sex?”
He wiped away her tears with his thumb before he answered. “Is that all you feel when you come to me? The need for sex?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. No,” Delilah said.
“Then prove it,” he replied.
“How?” she asked.
“Tell me the truth,” Maverick said.
“There aren’t many truths, just a bunch of lies,” she sighed. “Which lie should I tell?”
“The one that made you cry tonight. What makes you not see the woman I see?” Maverick pressed her.
“What do you see? Seriously? When you look at me, Maverick, and all of this, what do you see?” she asked.
“It’s complicated,” Maverick said.
“Of course, because we don’t know each other, you don’t know who you see. Is that it?”
“Sort of. I’ll tell you who I think I see.” Maverick measured his words, picking and choosing the right ones to explain. Delilah appreciated the effort but feared he’d just give her the standard linemen gave women when they didn’t want to ruin intimacy. Therefore, she rested her head on his chest and half-listened.
“Go on, Maverick, just say it,” she mumbled.
“I see a ten-year-old who had to grow up fast,” he began. “I see a twelve-year-old girl who lost her childhood and friends.” Delilah lifted her head and looked at him. “I see a girl, not quite a girl, but still a girl at seventeen who became a woman before she knew and understood the reasons for her choices.”
“You see all of that? Because I told you all of that,” Delilah said.
“True. But you aren’t a girl anymore. I see a woman. Most times, I see what I want to see. After finding out about Noah, I’ve learned to set my judgment of you aside, just a little. Because that’s what we do. We judge each other. And you know what? Suddenly after only a week of knowing you, I didn’t have to try anymore. I saw you. Now, the question is can you trust me. Because if you can, you need someone to talk to. Tell me the rest of the story with no judgment. I swear,” he said.
“What if I can’t, Maverick?” Delilah asked.
“Because you don’t trust me?” he asked.
“It’s not just my story. It’s not just my life,” she tried to explain.
“It is your life. You belong to you. Isn’t that what you went to the brunch to tell those ladies? It’s your life. You’re in charge of it. Not anyone else, but Noah, maybe.” He squeezed her, and she loved the pressure of his strong arms around her when she felt so vulnerable. It was a needed feeling.
“You got secrets, welcome to the club,” Maverick said. “We all got regrets.”
“I got secrets, my club is private. Members-only,” she said sadly. “My secrets are dangerous.”
“I want you to break that rule. Just this once, let another member in.”
“I made a promise that I can never break,” Delilah explained.
“I understand. Don’t break your promise. Tell me what you need me to know, tell me why you came here to me instead of going inside to your parents or our son? Start there?” Maverick asked.
“What if I want to break the promise? What if I want to tell you the truth so badly I can’t keep the promise? What then?”
“Then you take the biggest risk of your life. If I say you can will you believe?” he asked.
“Maybe,” she replied.
“Then here goes. You can trust me, Delilah,” he said. Delilah, in her heart, didn’t know where the story ended, and the lies began. She didn’t trust him, but she couldn’t push aside the hope that she should.
Mr. Collins House, 2002
“It’s better to face your fears than run away from them,” Delilah said as she shifted her book-bag on her slender shoulder. Her long plaits were crushed under the weight of the straps making her scalp feel tight. She pulled them out and then adjusted her backpack again, trying to appear in control even though her tummy churned with anxiety. They were three best friends, Queen stood next to Delilah crying, Goodiva was on the other side of her, equally terrified. They’d taken their bikes and rode them for five miles in the dark to reach Mr. Collins’s house. It was Sunday. Their mothers believed they were at Queen’s house. Queen’s mother was drunk on the sofa and never aware of the girls when she was sober.