Chapter Seven
Sam
It is one thing to feel her riding me through my jeans and getting me off, its entirely different when she does it then regrets it immediately after. I know that he is her boyfriend and that they committed whatever. The problem is I don’t care. There is no one else for me other than Mya. My heart and soul only need her.
I fucked up shutting down while in prison. I shut down and turned my back on everyone so that I could get through my time. I mourned Kace and let her finally rest in peace. I put my time and energy into working out, drawing and learning everything I could about welding and blacksmithing in the hopes I could start fresh.
The last few months in the joint changed me. I grew my hair out and a beard. It was almost like I wanted to leave as a different person. I couldn’t hide all my tattoos but even now I dress differently. It isn’t about my two egos anymore. I am simply Sam Sullivan. Former felon, tattoo artist and companion to Mya Dorian.
I sit on my couch in some workout pants, no shirt or shoes just drinking my beer as I stare at the pictures I hung on the walls. All my princess, frozen in time forever. I have a drawing I did in the joint of Kace, unfrozen and grown at almost fifteen. I can’t bring myself to hang it just yet, if ever.
I have two pictures of Mya; both are in my room. One on my nightstand and one taped to a mirror hanging on the wall. Two photos were all I had to remind me of the short and powerful relationship we had.
Fuck, I felt her, not just the thrusting against me, but her. She was with me for a brief second and like the life sucking demon it is, fate steps in dressed like Micha, a walking talking douchebag.
I drink from my beer and remember what it was like to be loved by her.
‘Let me rage fuck you.’ I had asked that of her after coming home late from the Police department.
I stayed at her for days on end until we both were aching and raw. It was those days with her that kept me alive in prison and keep me fighting for us today. There was so much purity in those days, raw fucking truth between us. It fused us together and still today nothing can break us.
For the last two days I have shut the world out. Answering only when it is Deja, those on the case, or Asa and Noah. I have remained at Mya’s side, smothering her I am sure. Though, I don’t think she minds. I only feel sane when I am with her. She doesn’t try to understand what I am going through. Rage, sadness, vengeance, numbness… all the emotions. She goes through them with me never, trying to explain it away.
I haven’t left this bed unless it’s to take care of business or shower-shit-shave sort of thing. I have stayed here and gone at her without complaint, or disposition from her. Rage fucking like the first night, passion and emotional fucking, more rage fucking. Then, last night around three in the morning, she rode me as I cried lost in my own pain and she wouldn’t let me be alone. She rode me as I wept. It was strange and at times I felt foolish, but the pain was as raw as we both are.
As I slip inside of her now, my cock raw from the amount of time I have spent inside her, the friction burning me up, I slowly withdraw as she whimpers. I kiss her, my hands cupping her face. “I’m sorry, baby. You’re hurt.”
I try to withdraw, but she holds me inside with her hands on my ass. “You need me,” she says, her words soft as she kisses along my neck.
I slip my hand between us and feel her swollen pussy. I feel like a son-of-a-bitch. I get between her legs and open her up with my thumbs, so careful not to hurt her. She is red as a rose, and so wet and warm. The lips of her pussy are swollen from my restless fucking and my addiction to sucking on them when I eat her out.
“No more fucking,” I say, pressing a gentle kiss to her pussy before getting a hot washcloth from her bathroom and a bottle of lube from her drawer. “Spread your legs, baby,” I say, seeing the shiver over her body at the endearment I rarely use.
I use the cloth to soothe her before gently rubbing the lube through her lips, moistening her. Touching her has me rock hard and even though it hurts, I keep stroking my dick every time I re-adjust.
Mya settles my soul completely with her next words. “Then, I will make love to you, my crow.”
She shifts to settle over my lap. Her now soaked pussy is sliding on my cock, courtesy of the lube I just filled her full of.
“Make love, huh? I like to fuck.”
I thrust up against her and slip inside against my best efforts to be a gentleman.
“Well, I’m not against fucking you, but I am so fucking in love with you I can’t hold back anymore.”
I still, just as she does when she sits up. My dick fully inside her as she covers her mouth. She closes her eyes and lets out a sigh. “I don’t know why I said that. It’s too much.”
I see these big tears in her perfect eyes and my heart stops.
“Hey,” I say as she tries to get off me. I hold her in place and put her hand in mine. “You love me?”
I wait on her answer like it is my next breath. Desperate to hear her tell me she does.
She nods and her tears fall. “I knew the night I gave you my virginity, but you are so overwhelmed by everything and it’s too much-”
I pull her to me until her mouth is on mine and kiss her without the gentleness I plan to use, when I take her. My kiss is raw and full of everything I feel for Amiyah Dorian. I roll, my cock throbbing inside of her and don’t break the kiss as I thrust slow, so fucking slow, into her.
She rips her mouth free of mine to cry out and I pause, scared it still hurt her. “Sorry, baby. I am so sorry,” I say, but like a selfish pig, I relish her hands cupping my ass to draw me back in.
