He unlocks the door and opens it, waiting for me to enter before re-closing it. The sound of the engaging locks clanks loudly in the silent house.
When Torque does finally release me, I miss his warmth. I want it back desperately. But before I’m able to turn around to voice my desire, I feel those same powerful hands on my shoulders, guiding me forward. Not to the kitchen or living room as I anticipated, but to his room—the room where I fell in love with him.
“I know you’re nervous, sweetness. I see your heart beating in your chest, ready to burst free, and I need you to know”—he pauses to kiss the shell of my ear—“I fucking love you so damn much. This past month has killed me not to come for you. To claim you as mine, and today, I need it so damn bad.”
“Y-you do?” I stutter at the intensity in his tone. He’s never sounded so raw before.
“I do. More than I need air to breathe.” His lips move down the column of my throat, sending delicious shivers up and down my spine. “I feel this…craving…to mate with you like a damn beast.”
His hands begin to rove along my body, lifting my shirt over my head and dropping it on the floor. Undoing the string of my pants and pushing them down until they reach my feet, and I step out.
I get spun around to find he’s already naked. I guess I was so lost in his touch and his words that I hadn’t felt him undress. “Torque.” His name comes out on a whine from my need for him.
“Will you let me, Ophelia?” My eyes meet his, and they’re black as night, his desire for me completely taking over. “Will you mate with me?”
Brushing my hands up his chest, one halts over his beating heart and the other keeps tracking until I reach the back of his head, pulling him down to my lips.
Breathing against his mouth, I murmur, “Make me yours, Torque Decker.”
He pounces like the ravenous beast he claims to be, tangling one hand in my hair while his lips claim mine as we fall back onto the bed. His knees shove my legs open, and his free hand cups the back of one thigh as he sucks my tongue into his mouth. Throwing my leg over his shoulder, I’m nearly bent in half but open so wide for him as I feel his swollen cock brushing against my soaked sex.
I’m more than ready for him, and when I go to pull him into me, drag him closer, Torque pins my hands over my head, contorting my body in ways I didn’t know was possible. “You ready for me?” There’s no time to answer. “Yeah, my girl is soaking wet and greedy for this cock.”
Slamming forward, he enters me in one thrust, swallowing down my scream at his invasion. I can’t breathe, and he doesn’t make room for me to adjust as he powers through each push and pull of his hips.
Plunging so far inside me, I sense something bubbling up from the recesses of my body. “Torque, it’s too much,” I cry out, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. I both love and fear his fevered dominance.
“You can take it,” he hisses. “Such a good girl taking my dick like you own it.” He drops little kisses on my cheeks, licking up the tears along the way. “Your pussy is eating it up. Don’t you feel it? Creaming all over my dick and making it easier to fuck up inside this sweet honey pot.”
“Oh god!” I scream as an unexpected orgasm tears through my body. Somewhere deep in my womb, I feel the effects. Pleasure and pain mix as he increases the speed of his thrusts. “Fuck!” I yell when he hits harder, faster.
“You promised,” he growls, biting my earlobe. “You promised to mate with me. That means taking everything I give you and more, and baby…my sweet, sweet Philly…I’m planting a baby deep inside today. Right now. You’ll take it, won’t you?”
I whine and whimper as my hooded eyes meet his. He’s positively feral as he waits on my answer. I can only nod, too lost in the lustful haze he’s worked over me to form words.
“My good, good girl,” he grunts and groans and snarls as he continues fucking me. And that’s what it is, good old-fashioned, filthy fucking.
I love every second of it, too.
Torque
I’ve lost count of the number of times she’s come on my dick. Painful, erotic orgasms that leave her breathless and sated until I work her up again. Over and over, we’re in this loop until finally, my spine tingles and my balls become hard as steel as they prepare to unload inside her.
“Fuck, Philly, fucking hell, I’m coming. Take it all. Let this syrupy little honey pot devour it all up. Take every last fucking drop for me.” Her head bobs up and down as she claws at me. Her body ready to take the load I’ve been saving for her as I thrust ruthlessly inside of her. She’ll be bruised, sore, and raw for days to come with how savagely I’ve fucked her, but I just can’t bring myself to stop.
“Fuck!” I shout as I slam in one last time, burying my dick as far as it’ll go and releasing stream after stream of my seed in her perfect little body.
Out of breath, out of my mind, and satisfied in a way I haven’t been in far too long, I slowly let go of her leg, massaging the muscles of her firm thighs before rolling to the side and cradling her in my arms.
Ophelia groans as I raise her leg up to rest across my hip, her pussy rubbing against my skin. Still soaked, still leaking my seed past her swollen lips.
Looking down at her, her eyes closed, face relaxed, and a curve to her luscious lips, she’s never appeared more beautiful to me.
Pressing my lips to her head, I whisper, “I love you so fucking much, sweetness.” I graze a hand up and down her back, and she rubs her face on my chest, purring in my hold like a content little kitten.
We have a lot to talk about, a lot to fix between us. Not only from what happened after my accident but before it as well. Nevertheless, right now, I’ll simply enjoy holding my girl in my arms again. Until she’s ready to move, I have no plans to leave this spot. Not unless absolutely necessary.
The necessary comes hours later when a window breaks downstairs and a lamp crashes as it hits the floor. Slipping from the bed, I pull the blanket up to cover Ophelia as she remains sleeping soundly.
Grabbing a pair of sweats off my dresser, I locate my phone and shoot Dorian a text to let him know there’s an intruder before putting it back on the dresser. Creeping out of the room, I quietly close the bedroom door and make my way downstairs.
Slithering along the wall, I stay in the shadows, the darkness of the night providing the cover I need. Taking a baseball bat from the hall closet, I don’t risk the sound of a shutting door. The intruder is in the living room, surveying the damage he caused, cursing under his breath, and trying to avoid stepping on any of the broken glass or busted lamp.
Hidden behind the wall, I wait for him to make his way over to me before I engage, swinging the bat at his mid-section. He bowls over, grunting before dropping to his knees.
“Who the fuck are you?” I bellow, turning the light on and revealing his face. I don’t need his answer. “Baxter fucking Cunningham.” Throwing a fist into his face, I knock him out cold before moving to unlock and open the front door before searching through the coat closet for some old rope. I tie the bastard up.
Dragging him over to the entrance of my house, I toss his ass onto the lawn, hoping not to wake Ophelia up. I’d like to let her sleep even longer. Settling on the cool cement of the front step, I wait for Dorian.