Wild Wind: A Chaos Novella (Chaos #6.6)(43)

He went after her throat again with his free hand, using it to push her head back so it pressed into his shoulder as he sucked the skin under his lips.

“Baby,” she whimpered and her clit convulsed, her pussy spasmed, she was coming again, so Jagger finally let himself go.

Cupping her between her legs, he jacked into her until his world wiped clean of everything but his cock and her cunt, that perfect union, his dick jetting, his balls draining, her pussy clenching.

When he came down, he felt her wet tightness holding him, and his first thought was this was the first time he’d fucked that pussy, and it’d be the last pussy he ever fucked.

Other thoughts were on Archie’s mind.

She was prying his hand from her throat, and he worried he’d hurt her, or scared her, but before he could ask, she was positioning his thumb, pressing it deep into the center of her palm.

And she was talking.

“Anahata. Unhurt. Unstruck. Unbeaten. The heart chakra. You. And what I’ll give to you. Tatted forever in the palm of my hand,” she whispered.

Christ.

Fuck.

Christ.

He shifted so he could rest his forehead against the back of her neck.

She shifted too.

So her thumb was pressed dead center in his palm.

“Our life can be at your throat, but I wanna be here, Jagger,” she said. “In the palm of your hand.”

Now he was getting why she kept touching his palm.

“Then you’ll be there,” he told her back.

“When the time comes, you pick my symbol.”

“Okay.”

“Like when the time comes, you give me what you need to let go. I won’t ask again. I’ve come to terms. I’ll wait a day. I’ll wait four decades. Unhurt. Unstruck. Unbeaten. That’s mine to give to you always. You tell me when you trust I can take your hurt and leave you with peace. Not before. In your time. On your terms.”

Christ.

Fuck.

Christ.

He dug his head into her back.

She gave him long moments.

Then she said, “You fuck like a goddamn animal.”

This was not a complaint.

He let out a big breath.

Then he grinned.

Now only semi-hard, he slid out, turned her again, scooting her up for comfort, and bent over her.

She curled her legs around his hips and combed her fingers through his hair, her eyes roaming his face.

His did the same to hers.

She looked sexy, sated, all good.

That had been deep. It had rocked both their worlds.

And there he was, in her arms, and they were both all good.

“Ready for the second-best ride you’re gonna get today?” he asked, referring to putting her on the back of his bike and taking off into the mountains.

“Absolutely,” she answered. “But first, I need a shower, you need to pour me coffee, and also get me off your table or you’re gonna have a cum stain on your felt.”

They would own that table until he died and he would never forget fucking his woman for the first time on it.

But he had the memory.

He didn’t need a physical reminder.

So he lifted her up and she held on with all four limbs as he hitched up his jeans.

Keeping her where she was, he walked her to the bathroom.

He dropped her feet to the tile, took her head in his hands on either side and bent to touch his mouth to hers.

When he was done, he said, “Be back with your joe.”

He did another mouth touch, let her go, turned away, but she caught him by the back waistband of his jeans.

He looked to her.

“Hurry, I need a sip in before we shower.”

We.

Excellent.

“On it, sweetheart.”

She smiled at him.

Then in a tank, no panties, she turned to the extra sink that had been free and mostly unused since he bought the place, and reached for the toothbrush she left behind the first time she spent the night.

She had some redness at her throat where he’d gripped her and a hickey on the side of her neck.

The marks he’d left made his cock jump in his jeans.

“Hurry.”

His gaze went from her neck to her eyes in the mirror.

Hers were on him.

Okay, maybe the second-best ride she was going to get that day would happen in the shower.

She shoved the toothbrush in her mouth.

He moved out of the room to pour them coffee.

And he didn’t fuck around in doing it.





Archie was curled up in his lap on her couch.

She had on a short, pale yellow silk robe that was tied at the waist, but now gaping open.

She’d put it on to make them a plate of crackers and cheese.

The crackers and cheese were gone.

Now she was squirming as she let him play with her.

He’d been taking his time with his hand between her legs for the last half hour, at least.

So she was soaked.

And his dick was throbbing, so he was done playing.

“Climb on,” he growled.

She didn’t hesitate.

She shifted to straddle him, took control of his dick, got in position then ground down on it.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunted, his head falling back to the couch.

She caught his neck in both hands and rode him.