The walls in the bedroom are soundproof, but we’re about to test how effective they really are.
After I give her one last, deep kiss, and drown her moans with my own, I straighten up on my knees, so I loom over her perfect form. My eyes are drawn down to her core as I push in slowly again, agonizingly watching my length disappear inside her.
“Fuck, look at you.” I pull out slowly again only to ram inside her once I'm almost fully unsheathed, making her body jolt. “You look so beautiful taking this dick while your belly isfull.” My hand moves again to settle just below her stomach, and I marvel at the way her pussy stretches and moves to accommodate my size.
I move faster, working my way up until I’m pounding into her once again. Her perfect breasts bounce up and down with every hit, and I’m sure that my grip on her hip is going to leave marks, but neither of us care. My breaths get heavy, and I find myself grunting as I drill into her. The pressure at the base of my spine starts to build, and I can feel my body tense, causing me to move even harder. I slide my hand up her body, shivering as it glides over her bump and up to her breast to twist her nipple.
“Oh, my God, Damien! Yes!”
Without a second thought, I move my arm to slide underneath her lower back, just to flip her onto her hands and knees. Her grip adjusts on the headboard, and her long, black hair whips around in the sexist way. It cascades down her now-arched back and reaches long enough for me to grip it easily. I give it a good yank as I continue my brutal pace, and the new angle has me losing control. Her ass bounces back against me, making her body ricochet in the sexiest way. As I look down to where we connect once again, I can feel my balls tighten.
My hand quickly reaches for her clit, and I flick against it rapidly to urge her further. Her quick pants turn into high-pitched moans the moment I touch it, and my cock throbs as her walls start to clench.
“Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t stop…” the words become her mantra as she repeats them over and over.
“Come for me, little wolf. Fucking choke me!” I pinch her clit and that sends her over. She screams my name as she clenches around me and pulses, strangling my dick so perfectly that I explode. I shudder as I continue to thrust inside her, only slowing down once her orgasm fades. We’re both heaving for breath, and our bodies are misted with sweat, but I press mychest to her back anyway—needing her closer. I move her hair out of the way so I can pepper soft kisses down the column of her neck and taste the sweet tang of her sweat.
“Oh, my God. I needed that so badly…” she whispers through heavy breaths. I lightly grip her chin and turn her face so I can press a tender kiss to her lips.
“Me too, baby.” I kiss her again as I finally pull out, and I don’t miss the small whimper that slips from her lips. “Are you okay? Was I too rough?”
She shakes her head, and a relaxed grin forms on her face.
“Hell no. It was perfect.”
I smile with her, unable to resist, and pull her down to lay in my arms. She curls up and fits perfectly against me—on her left side, of course, because we read she should sleep that way. My fingers rake through her hair delicately, and I don’t think it’s even a minute before she’s fast asleep again. I can’t help but chuckle and feel pretty damn proud of myself as I close my eyes.
Chapter 7
Ashia
Four Days Later
‘Last Resort’ Reimagined – Falling In Reverse
I take a deep breath as I lock the front door of Cut Me Down, a wave of exhaustion rolling over my limbs. It was our first day back open, and even though Emmett isn’t strong enough to work yet, he wanted to do something for the community. Because pretty much everyone is having to attend a funeral, if not multiple, he wanted to give free haircuts all weekend long. Thank God today is Saturday, and we only have one more day of this.
I’m glad to help give back, and a lot of the clients were very understanding when I wasn’t cutting as quickly as I used to, but it’s been over a month since I’ve cut, and the sad environmentdidn’t help with my sluggishness. Some of the clients tried to be cheerful and talked about other things besides all of the death that now tainted the city, but others were not so positive. I can’t blame them, though, because so many lost wives, children, parents, close cousins, and friends—I’ve heard all sorts of stories today.
But all I could think about was Zeke.
Taylor’s funeral was today, and unfortunately, Zeke wasn't welcome. Taylor’s mom had her body transferred out to Texas, where she’s from. I offered to fly out with him and demand that he be let in, but that both felt heartbreaking and wrong at the same time. Her mother is grieving as well, and I can't even begin to imagine that pain, but what about Zeke? They were together forfiveyears, why wouldn't he be welcome? We don't have any answers to those questions, and I know grief comes with a lot of anger, but it just isn't fair. Zeke deserves his chance to say goodbye, and Tay would've wanted him there.
He hasn’t answered me today, no matter how much I've texted and called. Now that he’s back at his apartment and not constantly being watched at the Attic, it’s giving me a bad feeling. I knew at some point he’d have to go home, and that one of us couldn’t be by his side twenty-four-seven, but something about his silence is nagging at me. He’s grieving, and I understand that, but his avoidance is telling me that something isn’t right.
I get in the car and text Damien before I pull out, telling him that I’m heading over to Zeke’s apartment. The second day at the Attic, we drove over to get some of his clothes and other belongings for him, plus one of Tay’s sweatshirts, so I know where he lives now. It’s a good thing too, because I was afraid I was going to have to come talk to him either way. He was insistent on working and keeping himself busy, and then a few days ago when Damien offered him as much time offas he needed, he took it—immediately and without a second of hesitation. Something about that rubbed me the wrong way as well.
The whole drive over there, I can’t help but think about it and feel the dread settling in my stomach. Maybe he’ll reconsider staying with us for a while. That way he won’t have to go through this alone and be forced to sit in the apartment they shared—where she was poisoned. I can’t even begin to imagine the grief that’s hanging on him like heavy chains, and while I’m not sure exactly what I can do to help him, I know he doesn’t need to be alone.
As soon as I pull into a parking space, I take in the look of the building again. It’s nothing extravagant, but it looks very homey, like the Zillow listing actually told the truth for once. The inside smells like laundry detergent as I step through the door, a smell that I actually find extremely welcoming. Newer, cream carpet is laid along the hallways, and the walls are painted a calm gray. That, on top of the warm lighting coming from the ceilings, creates a cozy atmosphere that I’m sure hasn’t seemed so cheerful to Zeke lately.
The elevator isn’t quite as inviting. It’s just covered in shiny metal that shows your reflection, but it seems well maintained, and it rides smooth as I ascend the four floors to his. I get off once the doors open and walk down the hall, feeling an eerie chill as I stride. Each step feels heavier than the last, like something is both telling me to keep going and stop all at once.
Recognition slaps me in the face, and I’m immediately brought back to the fire escape outside of my old apartment years ago—how that night I looked down and thought about jumping. It felt the same way, and just the thought has me quickening my steps. The grief, the sudden isolation, the silence. It’s all screaming at me, trying to wave me down for attention, and I feel sick.
I finally reach his door and raise my hand to knock, when a thud sounds out from the other side, followed immediately by the sound of broken glass. My body runs cold, and I knock a little more harshly than I probably should.
“Zeke?” I call out, not hearing a response, so I bang again, and when I still hear nothing, I decide that I’m getting into that damn apartment, no matter how he feels about it. He could be completely naked and destroying the place, but I need to know that he’s okay. I try to open the door, but it’s locked. So, I reach under the mat for the spare key and quickly slide it in, wasting no time to unlock it.
