Wild Wind: A Chaos Novella (Chaos #6.6)(28)

She wanted him to make her dad know she was okay and always would be so her father could stop worrying about her.

She wanted to sit on a mountain and watch the sun set then fuck and talk until they could turn the other way and watch the sun rise.

She wanted to bow before him and let him fuck her cunt like he owned it.

She wanted to mistress his hair and make him ask her permission if he ever wanted to cut it.

She wanted to watch him gnaw meat from a bone.

She wanted to bake his every next birthday cake.

She wanted to argue with him over which new couch to buy.

She wanted him to pull her over his thighs and spank her then shove her between them and fuck her face.

She wanted her symbol tatted into the palm of his hand, because that was where he had her.

She wanted his symbol in the palm of hers, right under her puddle of tears.

She wanted to get their tarot read together.

She wanted to listen to his heart with a stethoscope.

She wanted his cock up her ass.

She wanted to claim his.

She wanted him to paint her toenails.

She wanted every inch of him.

Every centimeter.

Every thought.

She wanted to give him every inch of her.

Every centimeter.

Every thought.

And none of this frightened her.

She felt nothing but peace.

Because he was hers.

And he had been since she was fourteen.

And she was his.

She knew this.

Because she had been since eternity.

And finally.

He was right there.





Chapter Seven



The Village



Jagger



It was safe to say, Jagger was not a morning person.

So after he spent the night at her place, Jag did not wake up with the dawn.

He woke when he woke, refreshed, and since he was at Archie’s and the sun had no direct shot at getting into her pad, he had no idea what time it was.

But when he turned to the side, saw the bed was empty save him, and got up on an elbow to scan the space, he saw her in the kitchen wearing the white tank she went to bed in and a pair of wide-legged satin pants that were a rosy color.

She had a mug of coffee cradled in both hands and her hip against the counter.

“Why are you over there?” he groused.

She lifted her mug as answer.

“Get over here,” he ordered.

She didn’t move.

She said, “You’re almost irresistible, watching you sleep in my bed.”

“I’m not a fan of the ‘almost’ part of that,” he told her.

She grinned into her mug before she took a sip.

Watching her do that, his cock, semi-morning-hard, got harder.

“Archie,” he warned.

“Baby, I wanna suck your cock, like bad,” she declared.

You could safely say his woman was honest and direct.

Annnnnnd…

Yup.

Now his cock was harder.

“I don’t see a problem with that,” he told her.

“I want candles and wine and good music and munchies on hand for energy, and time, lots and lots of time, and nothing at all edging in, just you and me, when I first take your dick in any part of me.”

“Fuck,” he muttered and dropped to his back, because he wanted that for her and for him too.

It was just difficult to want that for either of them when his dick wanted something else.

He stared at her ceiling, which was mostly beams and ductwork painted black, and took pains with trying to control what had quickly become a raging hard-on.

This endeavor was significantly hindered when he heard a thump, looked left and saw Archie bent over the tray by the bed.

She’d deposited two mugs of coffee there.

And then, no hesitation, and lithe as fuck, she put a knee to the bed and swung over him so she was straddling him.

Again, no hesitation, she settled on top, tits to chest, pussy to cock with too damned much in between.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he asked.

“Okay, this was a mistake because that feels nice,” she told his mouth.

Her eyes had gone dazed, and, moving like she couldn’t control it, she squirmed a little against his dick.

Since that burned through his balls and up his ass, he put his hands to her hips and called, “Archie.”

She lifted her gaze, focused and said, “You don’t snore.”

“Neither do you.”

“I thought you’d go little boy on me when you slept, your face all soft and vulnerable, but you didn’t. When you sleep, you look like a badass who would call a couple of bullies motherfuckers even if they’re only twelve.”

“That’s because I am a badass who would do that,” he returned, then took over. “Let me guess, you’re a morning person.”

She shook her head, some of her hair brushing across his shoulders and chest.

Annnnnnnd…

Yeah.

Staying hard.

“Nope,” she contradicted verbally. “I’m a whatever-the-day-brings person. I can be morning. I can be night. I can be lazy. I can be energetic. I just go with the flow. I have staff to open so the flow goes with me too.”

“Good being boss,” he noted.