Shattered and Shaken (14 page)

Bringing my head up, I look into his eyes “What?” I ask, worried I'm doing something wrong. He brings his hand to the side of my face and traces my bottom lip with his thumb. “I don't wanna rush this, Al. Let our love last, baby. Can you do that? Can you let me make long-lasting, passionate love to you?” He doesn't have to ask. I feel the warmth fill my heart as I look at him. All I want to do is make love to him, but the pleasure he provides is magnificent.

It's challenging to control myself with him. My hips feel the need to keep pace with the rhythm of my heart, which is on the verge of exploding right about now. His hair's damp from the splashing water, it hangs just beneath his brows. “Yes,” I announce, gently swiping his hair to the side of his forehead. “Love me, Blake, as long as you want to; love me,” I advise. Wrapping his arms around me firmly, he lifts us from the water. Walking over to the bed, he lies us on it. “But I haven't washed yet,” I inform him.

He stands up, pulling me to the edge of the bed, throwing my legs over his shoulders. “Baby, I don't give a fuck if you've washed or not,” he announces. “Mobility is limited in water, I want you to feel me entirely, and this position can't be done in there; you'd drown,” he adds, slightly angling my pelvis upward. Before I have time to think, he penetrates me, deeply, causing me to gasp. As soon as he's inside of me, I couldn’t care less about how clean I may or may not be. Hell, I soaked long enough; I should be cleaner than Mr. Clean himself.

My hands hold tight to the outside of his thighs as he thrusts slowly into me, stimulating my cervix with each movement. My arms are to the side of me, my hands gripping his thighs, feeling tautness as he rocks into me. Unknowingly, I dig my nails into his thighs, and I don't realize I've done so until I feel warm liquid trickle down onto my fingertips. Releasing his thighs, I place my hands to the side of me, and hold on to the edge of the mattress.

Blake slows his pace, pulling out of me almost completely, leaving only his tip inside. He runs his hands along the outside of my thighs, and replaces his shaft inside of me, but not completely. He's torturing me, penetrating me slowly, shallowly. “Blake, please, please, I need you to fuck me,” I moan, pleading for mercy. I can't take the torture any longer. The way he feels sliding in and out of me is indescribable. I can't put what I'm feeling into words. It's absolutely mind-blowing. Blake's hands cup my breasts and he massages them roughly as he slams into me. “Ahhh, Oh God... Oh yes,” I scream.

He pounds me repeatedly, then stills completely. “Like that?” he asks, beaming.

I nod vigorously. “Ye-yes,” I stammer.

He removes my legs from his shoulder, bringing them to the sides of his hips. “Baby, I already told you, I don't fuck,” he reminds me, placing his hands under my ass, lifting me into the air. “But I'll love the fuck out of you,” he continues. My hands
hold on to him tightly. His arms rest under my thighs as his hands grip my ass. He's doing all the work, bouncing me up and down his hard lengthy cock, fully embracing me. This standoff position furthers our emotional connection. He hits my G-spot with each thrust he gives, and I feel myself climbing that mountain of pleasure. My hands grip his biceps tighter, feeling his muscles contract as he moves me back and forth. His mouth captures my nipple, sucking it into his mouth. “You ready, babe?” he asks through his teeth, my nipple pinched between them.

“Fuck yeah, I'm ready, baby,” I answer breathlessly.

He walks over and presses my back against the wall. “Hold on. This high you're feeling right now,” he thrusts into me hard, harder than he has before, “it's going to crash gloriously in a matter of seconds,” he assures. As he pounds me against the wall, I wrap my arms around his neck, and I hold on for dear life. He thrusts fast, he thrusts hard, and then he slows down - only to speed up again. His rhythm is tantalizing, but glorifying all at once. He sucks on my neck while pulling out of me slowly several times, and finally he pushes into me so hard my head rams the wall.

My body shakes violently as I climax. It's intense, and my vaginal walls contract around him as he finds his release. He keeps himself situated inside of me, resting his head onto my chest. “Fuck, that was ineffable,” he murmurs between his slowing breath.

My face is snuggled into the side of his neck, and as warm liquid escapes me, I realize he didn't wear a condom, again. Fuck.

Chapter Thirteen

BLAKE AND I LAY in bed completely naked, tangled up in one another. He's lying flat on his back with me next to him snuggled into the crook of his arm. My hand rests on his bare stomach, and my fingers have a will of their own as they trace the outlines of his firm abdominal muscles. He's running his fingers up and down the side of my arm, tickling me gently. “Allie, baby, I've been wanting to ask you something and I want you to answer it honestly. Think you can do that for me?” he asks apprehensively.

His nervousness makes my stomach jittery. “Of course, I'll answer whatever you want me to,” I reply, running my fingers along the crease in the middle of his muscles. His body tenses as he breathes, making my body stiffen.

The fingers that were tickling my arm stop abruptly as Blake pulls me closer into his side. He lets out a shaky breath before speaking. “I've just been wondering how your ex broke your heart. I know you told me he was your first love, but there has to be more to it than that. I mean, break-ups hurt, but you get over them, eventually. It's been years since the two of you separated and you’re just now able to trust again...” he says matter-of-factly. As his voice trails off, I continue to run my fingers along his stomach, my mind drifting back to the last time I saw Wyatt.

Standing with the refrigerator door wide open, I search for something to drink, but there's nothing. This is bullshit. I made tea yesterday and somehow it's magically disappeared. I've got a feeling the magician who made it vanish is named Kyle... or Wyatt. Slamming the door, the condiments rattle against each other from the impact. Frustrated as hell, I walk to the island, rest my elbows on the counter, and let my head fall into my hands. Tears spring to my eyes and flow down my face unexpectedly. Kyle's leaving tomorrow, and I don't know why, but for some reason, I feel like this could be the last time I'll see him. My heart doesn't know the difference between “see you later” and “goodbye, permanently”.

My heart aches the same way it did when I lost my father. Kyle hasn't departed yet, and I already feel the emptiness overtaking my soul. “Butterfly,” he whispers, approaching me cautiously. At the sound of his voice, my heart palpates and my tears begin to disappear. Raising my head, my eyes search for him through the darkness. I can hardly make out his shadow, but his baby blue eyes glimmer from the moonlight shining through the kitchen window. Once he's close enough to see the wetness on my face, his feet pick up speed. Wyatt rushes to me and captures my face between his massive hands. “Butterfly, what's wrong?” he asks, wiping the tears off my face.

I wrap my arms around his middle and crash my face into his chest. “Nothing, I'm fine,” I assure him.

He backs away and places two fingers under my chin, tilting my face upward. “Yeah? So you always come in to the kitchen late at night and cry?” he questions sarcastically. Placing his hands on my hips, he lifts me onto the counter. “Tell me what's on your mind, Allie. You can't fool me, baby. I see right through those big, beautiful brown eyes,” he says, drying the remaining tears from my face with his shirt.

I'm not sure how to explain the way I'm feeling. I feel betrayed. I'm hurt that Kyle's decided to join the military. I'm angry that he's breaking his promise to me, leaving me behind. He promised to never leave my side, and yet here he is, leaving for Iraq tomorrow night. My heart beats, but I feel as if my chest's completely empty. Most of all, I'm scared; no, I'm terrified I'll never see him again.

I rest my hands in my lap and try my best to tell Wyatt why I look like a lunatic crying in the dark by myself. “I'm hurt. I'm angry. I'm scared...” I explain.

Wyatt pulls me to the edge of the counter closer to him. “Hurt, angry, scared - got it, but why?” he asks curiously.

I avert my eyes to the ceiling. “Kyle leaving, obviously... Why does he have to choose this career? The most dangerous career of all? I mean, it's not like he's relocating to a different state for work; he's going overseas, Wyatt. He's putting his life on the line for people who don't even know he exists,” I complain. Why couldn't he become a coal miner, trash man, anything besides a Marine? He's the first target. Why on Earth would anyone want to dodge bullets and bombs for a living? I can't comprehend his decision. My anger brings more tears to my eyes.

Wyatt lifts my legs and wraps them around him. “Let me make it go away. Let me help you forget...Will you let me, Butterfly?” he whispers.

Letting go of my built-up tears, I nod “Yes, make it go away, please... just please, help me forget,” I implore.

He lifts me effortlessly from the island and carries me up to my room. He doesn't bother taking me to the bed, yet. He presses me against the door, his hands and mouth exploring my body. Instead of pulling my spaghetti strap shirt over my head, he rips in right down the middle, slides it down my arms, and tosses it to the floor. His tongue trails between my breasts, up my neck, and stops at my lips. “Allie, tell me what you want,” he commands.

Rubbing my hands over his buzzed hair, I tell him the first thought that comes to mind. “Make love to me, Wyatt. Have your way with me... any way you want,” I reply, kissing the corners of his mouth.

He brings his hand to the side of my face, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. “You're sure?” His eyes water and I nod, twice.

“I've never been so sure of anything in my life,” I promise. Wyatt pulls me away from the door, carrying me to the bed. He lies us onto the mattress. Standing, he pulls his shirt over his head and throws it to the floor; it lands next to my tattered shirt. He tucks his fingers inside the waist of his loose basketball shorts and pushes them down, allowing them to pool at his feet. Wyatt stands still; his eyes roam my body, admiring me. He steps out of his shorts and climbs back onto the bed. “May I?” he asks, tugging on my panties. I'm at a loss for words as I my eyes savor his body, paying special attention to his erection.

Biting my lip, I nod, giving him the go ahead. He pulls my panties down my legs and tosses them aside. “God Allie, you're pulchritudinous,” he announces, captivating me with his words. I don't even know what that means, but as beautifully as it rolled off his tongue, I'm positive it's a compliment. He rests his head on mine “Ready?” he asks, kissing my forehead.

Again, I nod. “Ready as I'll ever be,” I confirm.

His mouth claims every inch of me. He kisses every bit of skin that covers my body. His tongue leaves a trail of heat behind with each kiss, and my insides clench as he sucks the apex of my thigh. Wyatt brings his hand to my sex, rubbing up and down my labia. His hands are like velvet; soft, warm, comforting. Raising his head, he whispers, “So wet, so ready... so mine.” As he speaks, he slowly inserts his finger inside of me. I gasp at the pressure. “You okay, baby?” he asks, concern in his voice.

“Yes,” I answer. And I am, fine. The more he moves, the better it feels. His movement relieves the pressure. Wyatt's hand tenderly massages my breast as his mouth captures mine.

“Inhale, now,” he instructs. I do as he says, inhaling through my nose; he inserts a second finger inside me.

“
Uhh,” I whimper at the burning sensation shooting through my lady.

“Let me know if it's too much,” he orders, bringing his mouth back down to my breast. He takes my hard nipple between his teeth and swirls his tongue around it.

I've never had sex before, but my insides are craving him as if he were oxygen to my lungs. “Wyatt please, I need you inside,” I plead. He swallows hard and I believe a tear falls from his eye, but it can't be; he never cries. It must be the light shining through my bedroom window.

Parting my legs, he places himself between them. “You sure?” he asks, a slight tremor in his voice.

I reach up and capture his face between my petite hands. “I've already told you yes. That's not going to change, okay. I want you, Wyatt, all of you,” I assure him.

“I know,” he confirms, his face contorts with pain. “I know this is your first time and I just want you to be ready. You're letting me take your virginity; I feel undeserving of it,” he says sincerely.

How can I convince him that he's the only one for me; he's all I want. There's no one else. He holds my heart in the palm of his hand. I want to give myself to him entirely. I take his hand and place it over my heart. “You feel that?” He nods his head as my heart pounds against his palm. “We don't have an ordinary love, Wyatt. You set my heart on fire. My heart sings for you. So please, shut up and make love to me,” I demand.

His lips crash into mine. “I love you. No matter what just know I'll always love you- I'll never stop loving you, Butterfly,” he vows, slowly sinking into me. My hands grip his biceps tightly until his length is engulfed by my sex. I'm not sure how something as large as his penis fits into a hole as small as a nickel, but it does. It burns as he rips me. “I won't move until you're ready,” he whispers onto my lips.

“It's okay, you can move. I'll be okay." He pulls his hips away from me extremely slowly, and pushes back in at and equally slow pace. It hurts the first few thrust, but the more he gives, the less pain I feel. “Faster,” I moan softly. He rocks into me faster, and his thrusts become stronger, harder. His mouth never leaves my body. If they aren't on my lips, they're on my neck. If they're not on my neck, they're on my breasts. My fingers grip the muscles in his back and my nails drag up his spine. “Oh God, it feels amazing,” I moan, breathless. My mind goes blank as my insides begin to contract; my head's spinning, and I can't think about anything but the delicious feeling deep down inside of my sex. His balls slap against my perineum, and it sends me over the edge. I begin to convulse.

I don't know what the hell is happening to me, but I love it. “
Ahhhh…Ahh! Oh, Oh. Ohmygod! Ahhh!” I scream unwittingly. As I scream, Wyatt covers my mouth with his, attempting to silence me. He thrusts into me several times before he becomes still. He tosses his head back as a moan escapes him. When he lifts his head, he looks into my eyes; something wet falls onto my chest. Now, I'm certain it's a tear, but I won't mention it. Pulling out of me slowly, he falls onto the mattress beside me.

“Fuck that was unbelievable,” he pants. He has no idea how unbelievable it was. I'm paralyzed. My limbs pay no attention to my brain instructing them to move.

Blake snaps his fingers in front of my face, breaking me from my trance. “Sorry,” I apologize.

He uses his fingers and pushes my hair behind my ear. “So,” he encourages, waiting for my explanation.

I push myself up into a sitting position. “Wyatt and I were together for over two years. He was there for me as I struggled with Dad's illness, comforted me when he died, and helped me overcome the depression that sunk in afterwards. He held my heart in his hands. I trusted him with my life, more than I trusted myself. Several times, I contemplated giving up, but Wyatt refused to let me give up so easily. He healed me, temporarily,” I explain. Tears threaten my eyes at the painful memories, but Wyatt doesn't deserve tears from me.

Blake sits up in front of me, using his hands to rub up and down my thighs; it's an attempt to relax me. “Continue,” he urges.

I swallow hard before continuing. “The night before Kyle left for Iraq, Wyatt made me forget. He made me forget the hurt, the anger... he stole my virginity like a thief in the night, and vanished the next morning. He left without a word. No call, no letter, nothing,” I say, remembering the pain Wyatt inflicted upon my heart. Blake continues to stare at me as if I'm leaving out information. “That's it,” I say, ending the conversation. I want to ask him about
Elana. I want to know what happened between them. I want to know why he let college come between them, but I don't ask.

The memories of Wyatt and I are now fresh in my mind. I want to push them away and fall into a deep sleep, forgetting he exists. Blake leans in and places his lips to my forehead. “Thank you. Thank you for trusting me. I promise, I'll never do that to you. I won't ever leave you, Allie. I'm here until you tell me to leave,” he says. Crawling under the covers, we lie on our sides, my back to his front, and we drift to sleep.

The next morning, I awake with deliciously sore muscles. I expect to feel Blake's arms around me, but the bed's empty. My eyes fight against the light from the sun struggling to open. Sitting up, I look around. Blake's clothes still lie on the floor, so he must be in the bathroom. As I sling my legs off the bed to stand, I hear screams from the pipes; he's going to take a shower. Even though I want nothing more than to join him, I decide to go down and brew us some coffee. That is, if Clair hasn't done so already. I swear that lady rises before the roosters.

Making my way down to the kitchen, I freeze. Clair is speaking to an unfamiliar female. “Glad you stopped by, Lana. Blake will be happy to see you. How long has it been, three, maybe four years?” Clair asks. Lana, as in
Elana? What's she doing here, and how in the hell does she know Blake's in town? Fire shoots through my veins at the thought of her being here, and the possibility of her reconnecting with Blake. My fists are balled up and my nails dig into my palms. My body tries its best to defy my brain as it twitches, trying to make its way around the corner; yearning to steal a glimpse of this girl who broke Blake's heart several years ago.

“Three and a half.”
Elana responds. Three-and-a-half years and you decide to drop by unannounced today, when he just so happens to be in town with his girlfriend! Resentment fills my insides, and I've never even met her. I know nothing about this chick, besides she used to own a piece of Blake's heart, which I pray he's taken it back. I know how broken hearts work. You try to heal, to love, move forward, but it's nearly impossible. When someone leaves you broken-hearted, they do just that; carrying some pieces away with them, leaving you with empty spaces that no one but them can fill.