Dauntless (The LockDown Series Book 2) (14 page)

His hands move along every curvature of my body, one kneading and massaging my tits, whilst the other finds the wet needy place between my thighs. His fingers once again fills me, his thumb repeatedly swiping across my clit.

His phenomenal skills with his fingers have me sucking at him harder, drawing him in as deep as I can take him, and then gliding back out. My teeth gently score the hard ridges of him. My own hand wanders around the back of him to grope and squeeze his arse. I begin to do the one thing I know will make him explode. My finger seeks out his hairless crack and tight hole, filling it with a single dry finger.

“Holy fuck.” He jolts forward as my fingertip hits his prostate, his semen filing my mouth and gagging me. I struggle to swallow him, refusing to let a single drop go to waste. His fingers appease me, continuously pumping inside of me and rubbing against my g-spot. I am soon coming. No scratch that, I am mother fucking squirting on his hand, my pussy juices coating him, the sheets and every material or skin surface there is. I am slippery and glistening.

He removes his fingers from me, the slow tormenting slide causing sensitive shivers to rake my body. He lifts his dripping hand and proceeds to lick it clean.

“Hmm, Abbi juice tastes fucking perfect.” He sucks his fingers into the warm recesses of his mouth and removes them with a pop. He releases an ‘ahhh’ of satisfaction as he tucks his flaccid cock in his trousers and zips himself back up. He walks to the door, unlocks the latch then places himself next to me on the bed, pulling me to him.

God, I feel so good right now, so at home with his warmth encasing me.

“I love you so much, Abbi.” He kisses my head once and then rests back into the metal headboard of the hospital bed, his heart rate slowly returning to normal.

“Are you sure you are ready?” I ask Abbi as she places her shoes on her tiny little feet.

“Yup, so bloody ready.” She stands up, brushing down her clothes. Her hands are still bandaged, but luckily, no bone damage has occurred. She had smashed the shit out of them; a nearby witness said she had been screaming at the mirrors to stop laughing. She had apparently smashed them all, trying to fight away the voices. Then she started on the plastered wall when she had run out of glass. She is lucky to have only cuts and bruises and no breaks or nerve damage.

“Cool, let’s go.” I take her hand, clasping it in my own. It fits perfectly there, just where it should be, forever. It feels so good leaving this goddamn psych centre, ready to start this all over again, to begin anew.

“I can't wait to see her.” I know how hard it has been on Abigail not seeing Melissa, but I wasn’t having her around Abbi whilst she recovered. She has been in hospital for a month, first starting on a general ward, then moving to a psychiatric ward for assessment and rehab. She has eventually stopped all her signs of withdrawing. The shakes, sickness and full body aching has now subsided and her mental state is in a very good place, well as far as I can tell, and by what the doctors tell me.

“I know she misses you too. She smiles every time I say ‘Mummy’s going to be home soon’. She needs you just as much as you need her, baby. She is waiting for you now.” I can't wait to get my woman home and into bed. Yes, I know, what a time to be thinking about sliding into her, but it has been a month goddamn it, and my balls are fucking blue.

I haven’t had any sexual contact, except for kissing, since the one time in her hospital room. I crave her taste, to feel her hot cunt under my tongue, her tiny tight body writhing beneath my touch.

“Come on, let’s go, Angel.” I pull her from her room at the rehab centre, shutting the door behind us and never looking back.

Abbi is quiet on the way home, her eyes fixated out of the window. I know what she is thinking. It is the same every time. She is remembering the first time I drove her past these landscapes of Surrey. The first time her eyes had seen green grass and flowers. Every time I have driven my car past them with Abigail considering that view, we have been starting something new. First time, I had rescued her from herself and the life she was living. Secondly, bringing our beautiful girl home ready to raise her together. Now, thirdly, both of us being knocked down so low but having brought each other back up again.

I haven’t had cocaine in three weeks. For the first week of Abbi’s stay in hospital, I had needed it bad; seeing the way the withdrawals had taken over her body, making her violently ill without me being able to help in the slightest. It had me feeling so raw and open that I needed some way to deal with it. However, after the worst of her rehab had passed, I had been able to open my mind a little and concentrate on what was important. I needed to look after my little girl and not fob her off on my friends. I needed to push through the hard times with my, soon to be again, fiancée. I needed to get her well and back home again, back where she belongs.

“Baby, are you alright?” I ask her, trying my hardest to distract her from her self-destructive thoughts. They have no place here anymore. Phillip is gone, I know a hundred per cent the rest of his fuckers won't dare show their faces anymore. We have no more threats and nothing to be scared of; we can live like normal people, happy, carefree and safe.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just having a moment. Just thinking about the times those fields appealed to me so much, the times they represented freedom and a new start.” She looks to me, her eyes glazed, but they are happy. I can see her excitement behind them. Our little girl is waiting at home for her.

“I know, Angel, and it will be the best new start. We belong together, Abbi, you and I, we are one.” She smiles at me, her sparkling teeth showing through the slit in her lips. She tilts her head to the side affectionately, reaching her hand out to stroke my cheek. I lean my head into her caress, comforted by the warmth and softness of her skin.

Ten minutes later, we arrive back at our home. The huge gates open up and let us in. I think to myself, as I park the Audi 4x4 outside the front doors, ‘sometimes, you have to go through hell, to find your little piece of heaven,’ and I have found my heaven, truly, a big old slice of it. We have been through every level of hell this month, with Abigail’s recovery, but we have come out the other side stronger. I don't hold any of the past against her. I love her more than I ever have, because of her strength. She has pushed herself through rehab, and I want nothing more than to get her indoors, place our Melissa in her arms and watch the look on her face that she always gets when my baby snuggles into her.

I open the front door with my key, the wood swinging open wide enough to enable us both through. Abbi walks ahead of me, once again breathing in the smell of her home. “Home,” she says quietly to herself. I can see her cheeks rising from the side, her smile obviously beaming across the huge expanse of the hallways.

I can still remember vividly the way she reacted the first time I brought her here. She had passed out on me that day; the utter shock of her new home was too much to deal with.

“Yes, home, it’s complete again.” I tell her, walking up and wrapping my arms around her stomach, splaying my hands against her emptiness. I hope, one day, not too far away, she will bear me another child. I love nothing more than being a father, the feeling is so fulfilling and amazing and words couldn’t describe it. Melissa is everything to me, her mother the same. I will do anything for them; I will fight wars, kill and even die to protect them.

A cry sounds from the lounge area down the hallway and Abigail’s eyes shoot up immediately at the sounds coming from our daughter. “Melissa.” She looks to me, her eyes full of unshed tears and then she takes off down the corridor.

I place her bags in the lobby, ready to take them to our room later. I follow the direction in which she had sprinted, no crying present in the vicinity anymore.

When I arrive, my beautiful woman stands holding our three-month-old
daughter in her arms, her little head plastered against Abigail’s chest. The sobs that are erupting from her aren’t natural. They sound like a wounded animal. In some ways that’s exactly what she is, a human being who has been subjected to so much violence,
hurt, betrayal and sadness in her life, that when the littlest rays of sunshine show through, she grasps them as tightly as is humanly possible to stop them slipping away.

I stand in the doorway, my body leaning against the frame as I just watch her reunite with Melissa.

“Oh, God, my baby girl. Mamma missed you so much, Princess, I’ll never leave you again, never. I'm here baby.” Her tears are coating the thick blonde hair atop our daughter's head and trickling down her soft cheeks onto her baby-grow.

Antonio and Debbie walk over to me, having been at my place nearly every day to help me out, because of the episode I had after Abigail got admitted to the psych unit.

After we had sex in the hospital room, Abbi had gone crazy, completely losing the plot. She was crying and screaming for help, clawing violently at my arms, chest and face, telling me to stop laughing at her. Her paranoia and addiction was out of control. I had come home after spending five hours trying to calm her down, before eventually getting her a place in a rehab centre.

I had come home that night and taken a big hit of cocaine, too big. I was a fucking idiot. I was home alone with Melissa; nobody else was here to keep an eye on her. I had put her to bed, and then persisted to wade my way through two grams of blow. Antonio had come in the next morning to me, past out in my own vomit. Melissa had been screaming in her cot upstairs, having probably woken up an hour before, possibly earlier. He had beaten the shit out of me, busted my lip and split my eyebrow, luckily not breaking anything, although I did deserve it. Heck, I deserved to have my child taken away from me.

From that point on, I had vowed to never touch it again, and I haven’t, mainly because my annoying best friend has been on my case, practically living here since Abbi was committed.

Antonio slaps my shoulder, smiling proudly at his niece. Who needs blood these days, these guys and Abbi are the closest and best thing I have to a family, and they are bloody good at being one.

My own family, those made from blood, had done nothing but deceive me, ruin me, break me into tiny shattered pieces and then shit me out onto the pavement with nothing but the clothes on my back.

“Hey, man, it’s good to have her back.” He stands beside me, watching the interaction between Abbi and Melissa. Debbie reaches up and kisses me on the cheek, gently stroking my arm affectionately.

Debbie is an amazing woman; I have never known anyone stronger, except perhaps my own girl. She has, like Abigail, suffered through a childhood of horrific abuse, her own father having sexually abused her and her sister. She had told her mother, who persisted to say she was lying and therefore would do nothing about it. She is now the fiercest girl I know, always standing up for herself, even to the beast of Antonio. I am so happy Ant has found her; she is a brilliant addition to our ever-expanding family, her and her three kids.

“She looks good, babe,” Debbie tells me, looking back and forth between us.

“She is good.” I relax into myself, sighing at the sight of her. She is beyond beautiful, even more so holding Melissa. It had broken my goddamn heart to hear my beautiful daughter crying and pining for her mother, this past month. It was my life’s mission to get her back here, healthy and back to her old self. We are so good together, fitting so naturally and perfect.

I know now, in my heart, my stomach, my mind, everywhere in fact, that we made it this far. We are going to make it. I will knock every obstacle in our way, down to the ground, if they so much as put a foot in front of our journey.