I moved through the Charles De Gaulle airport with purpose, much unlike the last time I’d been there. Oh, I’d moved with purpose then too, but in an entirely different way. Tried as I might, I couldn’t push away the memories of my last visit, running like my life depended on it, knowing I had to get as far away as fast as I could. Ultimately I couldn’t run away from myself so it had been a useless attempt. Even now, every hair on my body stood at attention now as though they could feel his presence nearby, like they had way back then as I ran, but I knew it was unlikely. Paris had always been our city and I had a feeling it always would be, no matter how much time went by. In the years that had passed since then I’d done my best to fill those years with many other men of all shapes and sizes; temporarily warming my body and my sheets, but none of them could fill the hole left in me or warm the cold left behind in my heart.
But none of that mattered anymore. It had been a fantasy to think otherwise so I forced myself to concentrate on the task at hand. Felipe deCastro would be in Paris this weekend to attend a benefit; a party of the jet and yacht set, but I would be there to make sure his last weekend on earth ended with a bang.
My senses were fucking with me; my mind was my own biggest enemy which was saying something considering my head was probably in the crosshairs of some of the world’s most powerful and dangerous men this world has ever seen. It had been five years since I’d had need to be in Paris; five years since I’d mistakenly laid my soul bare to the only woman I’d ever loved. I offered her my heart, my life, and my name, only for her to run away from it all; from me. Before her, the word ‘commitment’, as defined by me, correlated only with my job. Beautiful women were plentiful and monogamy wasn’t anything I was interested in. If anything, I’d always imagined I would be the one to run away screaming from commitment, so I was surprised by my own acceptance of the idea when it came to her, but then everything about her always surprised me. It was what made me fall in love with her and ultimately it was what made me chase after her in that very airport only to lose her in the crowd.
And now, five years later, I still refused to acknowledge that she’d taken a piece of me with her that day. I did my best to fuck her out of my head, out of my heart, but the mere fact I couldn’t bring myself to willingly choose to take a blond into my bed in all of that time told me volumes that I didn’t want to hear which was why I refused to acknowledge the feeling that she was close now. The odds that she drew the deCastro assignment as well were pretty high considering she was exactly his type and I steeled my resolve to not look for her. My instincts had only failed me once, unsurprisingly with her, but since I’d gone this long without running into her over the years I was fairly confident that I could eliminate the target without our paths crossing now.
She was good at her job, but I was better.
My ability to remain calm in the middle of a shit storm was my greatest strength. My heartbeats and breathing would register at a resting rate when my weapon of choice, be it a bullet, a blade or my bare hands, ended the life of any given scumbag which made it all the more aggravating that I nearly hyperventilated seeing the all too familiar blond head towering above everyone else a little ways down from where I stood on the sidewalk in front of the airport. I ducked into a cab before he could turn around; before I could know for sure that it was him, even though I knew down to my marrow that it was. I’d recognize that head anywhere; those broad shoulders I’d often used as handholds as I let myself get carried away on the waves of ecstasy only he could elicit from my body; sitting just below those broad shoulders was the back that I knew better than my own face having spent hours tracing every inch of over and over with not just my hands but my lips and tongue as well.
Thank God I couldn’t see what I knew was just below that back. It was his best physical attribute and my own personal kryptonite.
We’d first met there in Paris, each of us on assignment. The circles we ran in were small and since we both worked for the same secretly funded and privately run agency, I knew of him long before I’d ever laid eyes on him. But oh when I did lay eyes on him I knew I would never be satisfied until every other part of my body lay on him as well.
He had to be here for deCastro as well and the fact that he was here trying to horn in on my target pissed me off. Of course he couldn’t have known I would be here for the very same reason. We had different handlers and depending on the target, more than one of us could be dispatched for the same job. We rarely worked together and instead worked autonomously because we each had different strengths; different resources and attributes we could use in our favor, so I couldn’t rationally begrudge his presence other than the effect he had on me. He was a distraction I could do without. I didn’t want to see him because he was the only person on earth that could read every thought in my head just by looking into my eyes. I didn’t want to admit I’d made the biggest mistake of my life when I ran away from him. It was an unforgivable act, so I couldn’t even hope for forgiveness, although I would take it all back if I could. If I could go back in time I wouldn’t have ever let him go, but now…
He was already distracting me.
I didn’t know how much my presence might affect him, if at all, but I made a detour on the way to my hotel to a little boutique I’d frequented before knowing I’d need to up the stakes if I wanted to even the odds on who would be distracting whom the next night.
deCastro was MY target and I’d be damned if his death wouldn’t be added onto MY list of confirmed kills before the weekend was over.
No sooner had I entered the ballroom when her scent washed over me making my eyes close of their own volition. In all of my travels across the world; in all of the women I’d taken trying to drown my sorrows in their flesh, I’d never come across anyone or anything that smelled as sweet as her and it was only accentuated by the all too familiar fragrance we’d picked out together. It had been during one of our Paris ‘dates’ that we’d found the little shop off the beaten path while out walking one afternoon and the owner, an older gentleman, looked at us knowingly and spoke to us of young love. In hindsight I recalled her shoulders tensing ever so slightly at his comment, but I’d brushed it off then.
I was a dipshit because I WAS in love.
His shop was filled with oils; every scent imaginable and together we chose the ingredients to what would become my drug of choice because if I smelled it, it meant that she was near. I knew it better than I knew my own name and no matter what disguise she wore, I would always recognize it. It would always give her away with me, but even as I forced my eyes open from my own foolishness, I couldn’t stop them from sweeping the room. They should’ve been trying to locate the target, but no; they were looking for her because I was a fucking dipshit. I couldn’t even know for sure if she’d be blond tonight, but still my eyes bounced from golden head to golden head looking for the one that haunted my dreams even now. I hated her…
Because I knew I still loved her.
Had his eyes always been so blue?
I stalked him from the corner of the room, hidden behind a throng of people, but I saw him the moment he stepped into the room. After all, I’d been waiting for him and now I was pressed against the fucking wall like a god damn wallflower hoping he didn’t see me while wanting desperately for him to see me. I should’ve been concentrating on the target. I’d seen him too when I’d first walked in and right about now I should be scoping out his entourage; perhaps catching his eye with my signature ‘fuck me’ look and hopefully not having to follow through with whatever promise my eyes made before I could stick a shiv in his side. But, noooo…
I was standing there fidgeting in my spot because my pussy was weeping with joy just looking at Eric Northman.
What in the hell was wrong with me? THIS wasn’t ME. I was cold; heartless. I prided myself on that fact. I’d always been different. Growing up, I never wanted a house with a white picket fence; a husband or 2.5 kids. I wanted adventure and to travel to exotic locations and I thought, perhaps, of becoming a writer because I could do that from anywhere. I soaked up book after book both fiction and non, keeping a map of the world marked with everywhere I’d wanted to see. I was naïve then; still young and full of ideals where the world was good; people were good and those that weren’t just needed to be helped back onto the right path. That all changed when my brother Jason came home on leave from the Army. I was a sophomore at Tulane and was on my way back to Bon Temps to spend the weekend with him and Gran. He’d been gone for close to two years by then so I was practically giddy when I got the call that nearly made me run off the road.
Jason had gone to the local watering hole to see everyone when one of his old friends had one too many. He’d accused Jason of making the moves on his girlfriend and then followed him out into the parking lot when Jason tried to leave to diffuse the situation. He stabbed Jason twelve times and he’d died within minutes. When Sheriff Dearborn notified Gran of his death she fell over right there on the front porch and died from a heart attack, leaving me as the last living Stackhouse, but a part of me died that day too.
And when Rene Lanier was released from custody on a technicality, I made sure my face was the last one he saw when I killed him.
I was no longer naïve when I returned to school and began taking Krav Maga classes, honing my technique for no other reason than wanting to learn how to defend myself and counter attack. I would be no one’s victim and the dumbass the agency sent to observe me to ascertain if I’d be a suitable match for them learned that the hard way. Even now, ten years later, every time I see Bill Compton he flinches; I assume remembering when I’d almost broken his back when I snuck up behind him and put my Krav Maga to good use wanting to know why in the fuck he’d been following me.
How in the fuck did he think he would blend in with college students with those god awful sideburns?
Remembering it all now; how it all began had me wondering where I’d be ten years from now. I’d circled the globe many times over; seen each and every place I’d marked on that map, be it for work or for pleasure, but now what? Agents had a shelf life, either because of their age or their sanity, so I couldn’t do this forever, but I couldn’t imagine working behind a desk either. I had more than enough money to tide me over for many years, but I had no idea of what I wanted to do when this chapter of my life was over and now that I was confronted with the sight of the man I could have had a future with; a future I’d been afraid of having; a future I’d left sitting on a hotel nightstand while the only man I would ever love slept inches away in ignorant bliss, I couldn’t help but feel the loss of him all over again.
She thought I hadn’t seen her. I could tell because she hadn’t bolted yet, but if I could smell her in a room of hundreds, both people and scent, I sure as fuck would eventually see her. I hated that she’d kept her hair long and blond; I hated that she still had every fucking curve I hadn’t been able to find in any of the women I used trying to erase her from my memory; I hated that she only got better looking over the years, but most of all, I hated that I noticed every last one of those fucking details. I noticed everything; my profession demanded it of me, but my mind would immediately assess it and file it away until I no longer needed it before being discarded. Many of my conquests found their way into my mind’s circular file once we were done unless I needed to remember them out of necessity.
But I’d already learned that Sookie was so much more than necessity.
I could tell by her expression that she was having some sort of internal debate. While her face remained passive; no one else would be able to see the tornado swirling inside of her head, but I knew. I always knew and could spend hours just looking into her eyes; had spent hours just watching her, either asleep or awake because it was like being told a new and fascinating story each and every time and she never had to say a word.
I missed those stories.
I missed her.
I hated myself for it.
Sookie had already fooled me once, so completely that I’d pledged myself to her; all of me, for the rest of my life. I’d offered her the one and only thing I’d held onto from my past; a past only she knew of completely; my mother’s engagement ring. I’d tried to convince myself over the years that the happiness I’d felt when she’d accepted was all in my mind. I couldn’t have possibly been that fucking happy, but I sure as hell felt that fucking broken when I woke up the next morning, still covered in her scent from our night of celebratory love making, to find the ring on the nightstand.
No ‘I’m sorry’.
Just the ring.
I should’ve known better. Looking back, every time I’d tried to move forward; tried to give voice to my feelings for her, she’d stop me by kissing me until I couldn’t think about anything other than being in her again. I’d been addicted to her in the best and worst way possible, but I didn’t care. I had to have her because she was everything I never knew I wanted until I’d found her and when I asked her to meet me in Paris five years earlier; when I slipped my mother’s ring onto her finger, asking her to be my wife, it was the first and last time I’d ever uttered the words, ‘I love you’. Hearing her saying them back to me for the first time; seeing the truth of them in her eyes, having her accept my ring and my proposal was euphoric, but to this day I still didn’t know why she ran. I still didn’t know why I cared, but I did.
She didn’t have to know that though.
And with that thought I made my way through the crowd, preening under her intense gaze from across the room, but never looking her way. Instead I flirted and danced with countless women, moving ever closer to deCastro’s side, hoping to find a way into his inner circle to at least know where and with whom he’d be spending his evening. I preferred to eliminate targets from a distance because it was a cleaner kill and getaway, but I doubted that would be done easily with him. With him I would have to be close enough to do it face to face, but I’d have to get him away from his ever present bodyguards first unless I had no choice but to take them out too. I wouldn’t feel guilty for it; their deaths would be their own failure for not protecting their boss, so when I saw my opening to introduce my alias-self: Johan Gustafsson, procurer to a wealthy Arab businessman interested in purchasing some high level weaponry deCastro just so happened to sell to anyone with the funds, I moved in only to feel someone’s arm seamlessly slip around my own. Her scent engulfed me before I ever turned my head and sighed, “Susannah.”
It felt like a stab to my chest hearing him call me by my given name because he’d only ever referred to me as ‘Sookie’ from the time that we’d met. It was a childhood nickname that I’d left behind in Louisiana, along with the accent and naïve girl it belonged to, but hearing it come from Eric for all of those years made me feel connected to her in a good way. It helped me to know that I hadn’t really lost that part of me and it was okay to be just ‘Sookie’ with him instead of the cold hearted killer I’d turned into known as Susannah Stackhouse.
I knew he’d seen me watching him from across the room. It was the only reason for him to be strutting around the room in his perfectly tailored handmade tuxedo like a cock looking for a hen to roost, but even knowing that it still drove me mad. Our professions demanded we make sacrifices. Our goals had to be met no matter what, so we didn’t get to have moral dilemmas. If there was no other way than to use our bodies in order to get the information we needed then so be it. Because we were in the same profession, we understood that about one another, but that didn’t mean I didn’t do my best to erase every last one of those women from his mind and body whenever he was with me, with him doing the same. It was the reason I’d gone to that little shop straight from the airport and gotten another batch of the perfume he’d always loved because if I had to see him; had to be near him and knowing I’d have a hard time thinking straight, then he damn well wouldn’t be thinking straight either.
Seeing his eyes slowly taking in my low cut form fitting red evening gown was a nice boost to my ego, but I wasn’t prepared when he held onto me and spun us onto the dance floor. Actually, I wasn’t prepared for much of anything now that I was so close to him again and I tried to force my head back into the game knowing we were wasting the perfect opportunity to get close to deCastro. I’d only slipped my arm through his after seeing him walking towards deCastro with purpose and planned on riding his coattails posing as his date hoping to be able to get the kill myself. But now, feeling his body pressed against mine was both familiar and foreign. It had been too long since I’d held him; since I’d felt the way his muscles moves just underneath his skin; since I’d smelled the hint of his aftershave or felt his hands on my body. It was distracting which was why I was surprised yet again when he’d somehow managed to move us from the dance floor into the coat room and he pushed me up against the wall, pinning my hands high above my head and using his body to hold me there, asking, “What are you doing here Susannah?”
I’d often wondered who would come out on top if Eric and I were to ever face off against one another. He was twice my size; trained in all forms of hand to hand combat and every weapon ever made, but I wasn’t without skill either. I just knew I could never truly hurt him; at least not physically, so I didn’t try to force him off of me and answered, “The same as you, I suppose.”
I could feel his God given weapon pressing against my stomach. He wasn’t aroused, yet, but he didn’t have to be for me to know it was there and the longer he stayed pressed against me, the more I felt it stirring between us.
“deCastro is my kill, so why don’t you just run along.” His eyes hardened as he added, “It’s what you’re best at.”
He looked angry enough to spit nails and yet he made no move to step back. I didn’t blame him for the anger; I deserved every last bit of it, but having him so close again made me want him even closer. I didn’t deserve a second chance, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want one so I snaked my leg around the back of his calf pulling him forward that much more and said, “I’m done running.”
My statement had nothing to do with tonight; with deCastro, but I was still afraid to say more because I didn’t know if he’d want to hear it. My heartbeat was pounding like a herd of wild horses; the sound of it drumming through my ears like I was being chased down and I tried to calm myself, but it wasn’t working. I hadn’t gone looking for love, but Eric, the ever expert marksman, hit me dead center with it so I had no choice but to fall. I’d been afraid of opening myself up to him back then; afraid of losing him to a bullet or boredom. I was no slouch, but he was sex personified and I’d never truly accepted that he wanted anything more from me than my company until he’d slipped that ring onto my finger, only to end up losing him to my own fears. The only difference now was that I knew what my life without him was like and it wasn’t one I wanted to live.
What did she mean she was ‘done running’? I could feel her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest; beating faster now than it had after any of the countless orgasms I’d given her which told me a lot, but I couldn’t trust my instincts when it came to her. I’d learned that lesson, but I couldn’t stop myself from leaning forward and nuzzling against the side of her neck, filling my lungs with her scent while enjoying the shiver it caused her to have as I whispered, “Say what you mean. I’m done playing games with you.”
It took all of my strength to pull back far enough to look into her eyes because all I honestly wanted to do was rip her dress off and fuck her against the wall. I’d always loved seeing her in red and just being near her was enough of a chore, but I needed to actually hear what she had to say. I was done playing games with her and I wanted no part in resuming the role of her part-time boyfriend, so if she only wanted to pick up again with our Paris hook-ups, she’d be in for a rude awakening.
As far as I was concerned, it was all or nothing.
My steel magnolia who never gave anything away in her expressions sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth as she stared back at me. I’d never seen her nervous before and with her little slip, her other walls started coming down. Standing before me wasn’t the calm and collected Susannah Stackhouse who could claim your lips with a heated kiss as her blade pierced your brainstem without so much as a grimace, and instead Sookie Stackhouse had decided to show up in her place. The girl that could quote classic literature and Family Guy’s Peter Griffin in the same breath; the girl that made me laugh and drove me wild with desire; the girl I still loved.
My hand moved to her face with my thumb coaxing her bottom lip from between her teeth as I admitted, “I forgot how beautiful you are.” That wasn’t completely true; I’d just tried to convince myself that I did, so I wouldn’t feel as bad.
“Eric…” she whimpered and tried to lean forward for a kiss, but I wouldn’t let her.
I knew what her kisses were like and preferred my brainstem intact, so I gripped a handful of her hair and pulled her back demanding, “Tell me what you want.”
Even as I said the words my face inched closer, my lips demanding the kiss they’d been denied, but I held fast, refusing to give into my immediate wants because I wanted so much more than just a god damn kiss.
“You…” she whispered so softly, had I not been looking at her lips I wouldn’t have heard her.
Sexual chemistry was never a problem between the two of us. If I was cliché, I’d say there was an electric charge in the air like Zeus himself rained down lightning bolts around us whenever we were together, but I wasn’t cliché. We just fucked like it was the end of the world and we were going screaming out of this one and into the next and while no one could ever compare to her in my bed, that wasn’t enough. Not then. Not now.
With great effort I let go of her hands and hair, took a step back, and breathed through my mouth trying to clear the fog her scent had filled my head with. deCastro was out there wandering around, but I needed closure if I was ever going to get on with my life, so I needed to take it now while I could. My mouth opened, prepared to tell her, ‘No’, when she surprised me again by saying, “I love you. I never stopped loving you and I doubt I ever will. I’m sorry for running away and I don’t expect or deserve your forgiveness. My only excuse is that I wasn’t ready then. I was afraid. Afraid of losing you; losing me.” She reached out with the hand that wore my mother’s ring for a single night and ran the back of her fingers along my cheek before taking it back again and added, “I will always regret running away from you.”
My body stood frozen while my mind was running rampant picking apart her words. She loved me. She’d never stopped. She regretted running away. She wasn’t ready then.
Since I hadn’t moved or said a word, she must’ve come to her own conclusions because I felt her place a soft kiss on my cheek, whispering, “I’m sorry,” and then moving to step around me to leave. I knew this would be a defining moment in my life. I could let her go and probably never see her again; continue on with my life as I had been for the last five years or I could stop her. But, stopping her had repercussions. She’d already run out on me once, so was I willing to lay it all on the line again? Did she deserve it?
She’d already reached the doorway when I turned around and reached out, pulling her body against my own and leaned down asking, “If you weren’t ready then, are you ready now?” I had to know the answer knowing I would always regret letting her leave if I didn’t ask the question, but like every drug addict I quickly lost myself in her scent again. I would kick my own ass later, but for now I just enjoyed having her in my arms again as I waited. One way or another tonight would finally decide if this would be the start of something great or the end of what would never be.
My God…how did I ever think I could live without him? I’d been fooling myself for five fucking years thinking we were both better off, but I sure as hell knew that wasn’t true, at least not for me. I’d been miserable without him in my life and now I actually had hope that he might be able to forgive me; hope that he might actually still want me and I turned around in his arms so I could look him in the eye as I said, “Yes, if you’ll still have me, I want to be with you.”
Eric Northman didn’t shock easily, but he was definitely catching flies. If he was still interested in me I’d thought my confession might get me a hug or a kiss of some sort, so my spirits started to fall when all he did was stand there and gape at me. I thought I’d been clear when I told him my wants, but I guess I wasn’t since he asked, “How do you want to be with me? Do you want to go back to what we’d been doing before; meeting up whenever our schedules allowed or do you want more?”
He’s gun shy…
He was probably the most feared assassin in the world and I’d made him gun shy. I didn’t know whether to feel guilty or proud over that little feat, but I couldn’t blame him for feeling that way. It was my turn to put myself out there for him to accept or turn away, so I didn’t hold anything back. My hands ran up his arms and came to rest on the back of his neck as I admitted, “I want more. I want it all. I want everything you’re willing to give me, but as for how do I want to be with you?” I was playing dirty knowing how much he got off on me talking dirty, so I let my eyes flick towards the wall in the back of the coatroom and said, “I’d be willing to start off with a quick, hard and fast fuck right over there.”
I was done the moment I saw her. I was done the moment she said she wanted it all and now I was definitely done hearing her talking about fucking in the back of the coatroom. I swallowed the ‘oomph’ sound she’d made as her back hit the wall with a little more force than necessary, but it had been five fucking years and I was done waiting. Her hands pulled at my hair as her lips attacked mine with equal fervor and my hands slipped in through the slits of her dress at the sides to slide up her silky golden legs. My smirk broke our kiss and the sound of Velcro could be heard as I yanked off the band I found secured to her upper thigh. I held it between us, complimenting, “Nice.”
It was a small dagger sheathed in leather; its point probably having pierced a brainstem or two, but I just shoved it in my jacket pocket when Sookie placed her hand over my straining dick and began stroking me through my pants, saying, “This is much nicer.”
It wasn’t like I was going to argue with her so as her hands worked to open my pants my own hands pulled the front of her dress down. Her breasts were perfect, both in size and shape, and it was so low cut, I knew there wouldn’t be a bra standing in my way, so as soon as she was done I lifted her up so I could reacquaint myself with them. I hated that we couldn’t take our time, but I didn’t want to wait until we could get back to a hotel either. I needed to connect with her now. We could make love later; now I just needed to reclaim her because now she was finally…
“Mine,” I growled against her skin. Her legs had wrapped themselves around my waist and she was grinding her body against me. Her dress had ridden up to rest on her hips, so I let my hand slip between us only to find my little commando was going commando and she was already so wet that as soon as I thrust into her, she came. Her whole body shook with her inner muscles trying to drag my own orgasm from me, but I held fast. I knew we had to be quick, but I’d be damned if we would be that fucking quick and as soon as I had a grip on myself and her ass, I started moving. My thrusts were slow and deliberate; I wanted her to come again and knew I couldn’t hold out for very long. I wanted her too much. I needed her too much. I could never hold out on anything with Sookie because as much as I was trying to claim her, the fucking truth of the matter was she’d long ago claimed all of me and when I started pounding into her with greater force and speed, it wasn’t long before her walls were clamping down around my cock again, holding it hostage until I had no choice but to come for her.
The sound of a seagull flying overheard woke me from my slumber and I opened my eyes slowly against the sun’s rays. The glint off the diamond of my mother’s engagement ring sitting just above the platinum wedding band on Sookie’s left hand caught my eye right before her smiling face came into my view. We were on our honeymoon and had decided on going to Fiji for more than just their beaches. deCastro had slipped away into the night after Sookie and I had finally emerged from the coatroom, but I honestly couldn’t care at the time. I was just happy to have her back, but we’d received word that he would be in Fiji at the same time as our honeymoon and we’d scouted the various islands a day earlier before finally locating him in a private residence. The isolated location worked out well for us since deCastro had decided to bring minimal security with him and we still hadn’t come to a decision on how we were going to take him out, but when I saw Sookie slipping off her sundress to reveal the bikini she’d been wearing when I’d first fallen asleep, I asked suspiciously, “Where did you go?”
Her wet hair was quickly drying in the warm breeze as she smiled, coyly answering, “For a swim.”
I pulled her down onto the sand and put my body on top of hers, murmuring into her neck, “My bullshit meter reads that as a ‘false’ my dear wife.”
When I pressed my hips against hers, I felt something both foreign and familiar, so I reached into the front of her bikini bottom and pulled out her favorite little dagger. She’d jokingly named it ‘The Rabbit’ claiming it was the cause for more ‘O’ faces than the vibrator of the same name, only the ‘O’ stood for ‘Oh shit!’
I held it up in view, asking my question with nothing more than my cocked eyebrow, and she giggled, a sound that always ran straight to my dick, and said, “What? Did you honestly think I was going to waste our honeymoon chasing after that ass? I swam up to him and popped right out of the water like a mermaid. He didn’t ask who I was; why I was there; or how come I was topless and it only took a second for The Rabbit to do the dirty work.” She ended her sentence by making an exaggerated ‘O’ face.
I knew she was more than capable of getting the job done and the thought of her wandering around topless made my hands turn my fantasy into a reality by pulling away her top. My mouth started on a trek across her bare skin as I said, “Well, I’m no rabbit so it’ll take me longer than a second to get you to make that face again, but trust me, you’ll enjoy it much more than he did.”
It wasn’t long before she was writhing beneath me and when I finally slid inside of her all bets were off. She was it for me; she always had been and I did everything in my power to show her that, so when she was cresting on her fifth orgasm and begging me to come with her, I gave in.
Because I would always come for her, no matter how far I had to go to find her.