BORDEN 2 (5 page)

Then he began to take his own clothes off, and it was never old seeing his bare torso, at all the tattoos and solid tan skin. His abs strained as he threw the sweater in a basket by the ensuite bathroom, and even in the darkness I could see the trail of hair leading beneath his jeans. By now, he’d have ordered me to do something, like bend over or get on my knees. He did nothing, though. As he started to unbutton his jeans, he caught my look of confusion and smiled at me.

“I’m not doing this for sex, doll,” he told me. “Your tight little pussy needs a rest for at least another ten hours anyway.”

“That’s not for you to decide.” Ugh, I actually sounded pouty.

“When I pounded you silly in the shower, you grimaced because you felt some pain.”

“I like pain.”

He chuckled. “While that’s a fucking huge turn on, I’m still not getting us naked for sex.”

“So why are you doing this then?” I wondered.

“I just like the feeling of my skin pressed against yours.”

My heart skipped a beat. I studied him in the silence that followed. Was he being sarcastic? I waited for something else, but nothing followed. He was being completely serious, and sadly that only made me want to get ravaged by him some more.

It was purposely chilly in the room, just the way he liked it. He brought me into bed and I snuggled under the covers, my back against his front. His warmth seeped into my bones, and I sagged into the most comfortable mattress known to mankind against the warmest wall of a man.

This felt right.

With his arm wrapped around me, his fingers entwined in mine. For a while, it was just this. Silence, warmth, quiet breaths. It seemed almost criminal to be in bed with a naked Borden and not touch him indecently, but I liked the intimacy without the heavy touching just the same.

“I really didn’t like that biker,” I finally murmured, my eyes opening. “I’m not sure you should trust him.”

“What makes you so uncomfortable about Hector? The fact that he’s a cunt, or the fact he had the ability to put you at ease despite being a cunt?”

I stilled. How did he know? He hadn’t paid attention to me once in that office after that biker came into the room.

“I can read you better than you think, Emma,” he said, amused.

“You weren’t even looking at me.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Well, anyway, he’s still a piece of crap, and you shouldn’t trust him.”

“I don’t trust easily, but when all is said and done, Hector is a man of his word.”

“Is this because he’s Hawke’s brother?”

I felt him shake his head. “No, it’s partly because I’ve seen what he’s done to protect his brother.”

“Like what?”

Borden chuckled. “Some secrets aren’t mine to tell.”

“Come on, I won’t say anything to anyone.”

“You think that line is going to work on me? Has fucking me made you forget who I am?”

“Tell me. I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

“And what do I get in return?”

I bit my lip, considering that question before answering. “You get me crawling on my hands and knees to you. Sucking you off whenever you want it. You get to pull my hair, smack me on the ass, do unbelievably sordid things to me while I drag my nails down the back of your skull as you fuck me.”

He groaned deep in his throat at my response, and then I felt his mouth at my ear, capturing the lobe between his teeth. I jolted in surprise before melting in him. He licked a trail from the bottom of my ear down to my shoulder and then back up again, stopping at my throat. He sucked lightly, and I let out an uneven breath, every tired part of me stirring alive. All the while, he kept his fingers entwined in mine, squeezing them gently as he tortured me with his tongue.

Finally pulling away, he muttered, “I’m afraid I already get to do all that, babe. No deal.”

I smiled lazily, every part of me flushed, as I breathlessly replied, “Fair enough.”

I turned around in his arms and stared at him in the dark. His plump lips were up in a content smile, and for a few moments I traced my finger down the profile of his face, marvelling at his beauty. He loved my touch, and he briefly flickered his eyes shut, savouring it like a man that’d been deprived of an entire lifetime of affection. And he had been, I reminded myself. He’d lived a shitty life for the most part.

I traced his profile one last time, then I ran my finger down his throat, and drew languid circles around his chest. He was solid as marble beneath my touch. I continued my lazy trek, running my finger over the bumps of his abs, and he smiled just then when I reached his happy trail.

“You reach your destination yet?” he asked quietly.

“Almost,” I responded almost inaudibly.

I locked eyes with him as I journeyed that happy trail straight to his length. I wasn’t surprised to find him hard, but I was definitely surprised by the sharp breath he let out when I wrapped my hand around him. He was unusually sensitive, like us holding each other had riled him up more than all the other foreplay we’d done combined. It was hot.

My body responded immediately. I felt aroused, felt my breasts swell and my body heat. I wanted to kiss him everywhere. I wanted my tongue swirling the tip of his cock. I wanted to eat his divine body up any way I could. I made to move down his body, to have my mouth there tasting him, when he abruptly pulled me back against the mattress.

“No,” he told me breathlessly, moving his body halfway over mine. “I want your mouth against mine tonight.”

He captured my lips with his, and we hungrily kissed. I felt his length against my hip and his hand between my legs. His finger teased along my folds, and I shook beneath him, moaning lightly at the sparks of pleasure he induced. The kisses turned wetter and hotter, all lips and tongue, while the rest of me buzzed with a consuming need for him to fill me. He fucked me with his mouth for what felt like forever, leaving me quaking with need beneath him before he finally settled over me.

“Are you really ready for me, doll?” he panted against my mouth, his length skirting my entrance. “Because it’s going to be deep and slow, and I might take a while.”

My hands dropped to his hips, and I urged him on, kissing him in response. “Yes, yes, fuck yes.”

“Spread your legs wider,” he told me, his voice already turning urgent. “Yeah, like that.”

I clutched him tightly as he pushed inside me. I stilled, mouth hanging open in euphoria. Always that first thrust. He filled me slowly, taking his time, pushing in all the way, that piercing rubbing me in all the right places.

“Good?” he asked me.

“Amazing.”

After several moments of my walls hugging his massive length, he began to move, hitting that sweet spot inside me. I was wrapped in all of him. His scent, his mouth, his hot breaths and warm arms. When he groaned, the sound triggered the ache in my core, driving me closer to orgasm.

His lips turned feverish, his hand slipped beneath me, grabbing at my ass. He moved faster, pounding into me with solid, powerful thrusts. His cock was impressively hard. There wasn’t space inside of me he didn’t fill. His body betrayed his control as he shook over me. His face turned slick with sweat, his other arm, resting beside my head, strained as he moved. Tingles and warmth shot through me, coiling my insides. I dug my heels in the mattress, feeling that wave of pleasure closing in. My hands moved to his ass and I dug my fingers into him, eagerly pressing him into me for more. He moved harder and I stilled, crying out as the pleasure washed over me. He stopped moving, allowing me to relish in the feeling. My forearms ached from holding him to me so tightly.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “this never gets old with you, Emma.”

The words sounded distant. Blood had rushed to my ears, and I was momentarily out of it. Gone. A total out of body experience. And then, as the feeling ebbed away, I focused back on him and lightly darted my tongue out, licking his lips.

“God, woman,” he whispered, licking my tongue back.

Moving away, he grabbed hold of my hips and sat up. Looking down at me, his eyes raw with lust, he continued moving into me. In the dark, I could see his lips pressing against each other. Hair fell over parts of his forehead, and as he neared his own release, his strokes turned animalistic. Fast and hard, he fucked me, groaning through his release but never stopping. He went and went, drawing another earth shattering orgasm from me. I moaned in surprise at the sudden wave of tingles, and still he went, fucking me until he softened within me and collapsed over top of me, his heart pounding over mine, his chest shaking at a scary pace.

“Holy fuck,” he groaned. “It feels too good with you. I don’t want to stop.”

I wrapped my arms around him and stroked the damp strands of his hair. His beard tickled my neck as he laid there, completely spent. He hummed in delight at my fingers now digging into his scalp in circular motions, massaging him roughly, offering him that pain but also pleasure in a different way this time.

I never asked about his masochistic behaviour. A part of me thought it had something to do with his upbringing. I wasn’t a psychologist or anything, but a lot of people carried certain behaviours they learned from childhood. Still, I was extremely intrigued.

When he finally moved off me, we both turned on our sides and faced each other. He stared into my eyes, a content smile on his face. “You’ve got your curious eyes on,” he remarked quietly, his voice returning to normal. “What’s getting at you now?”

“Can I ask you something personal?”

“You can ask me anything you like.”

“Do you still talk to your family?”

He paused. “No.”

“No communication at all.”

“No,” his voice was quieter as he repeated himself.

“But they know what’s happened to you, don’t they? Wouldn’t they try and reach out to you?”

“My father did about a year after I returned. After Kate had long passed and the city was still shaking in the aftermath. He came into my club and he didn’t ask me where I’d been when I let him into the office. He didn’t care to know about anything. He just wanted money from me. He said my mother was sick and I needed to help them out now that I was better off. It was the first time I’d seen him. I was shocked at first, and part of me felt this residual feeling in the pit of my chest, this feeling of…want. I wanted family, I wanted my mom back despite neglecting me, I wanted a relationship with a man that was supposed to be my adult figure in life, and I almost crumbled.
Almost
.”

He paused, and I waited patiently for more. I was hardly breathing the entire time he spoke, mostly because I couldn’t believe he was letting me in.

Borden exhaled, his face conflicted and bitter. “But then I remembered what that sick fuck did to me. Throwing me out like I was a piece of trash, telling me I was a loser, and that I would never become anything. That he hoped I’d wind up dead because it was better than supporting some fucked up kid who couldn’t accomplish jack shit in life. He’d painted my face good with bruises the last time I saw him. Remembering it all, I felt the rage surface, and I looked him in the eye and told him to get the fuck out. I told him I hoped he rotted and that my mother rotted in the ground long before he did so he had nobody but himself to beat up. That was the end of that. I never saw him again. He’s either alive right now drinking himself to death, or he’s in the earth already. Either way, I don’t care.”

I didn’t respond for some time. I had nothing positive to say. He’d done the right thing shunning them. Sometimes I wondered what I would have done if my mother hadn’t taken her life away, if she’d walked out of prison when her sentence was done and sought me out. Would I have taken her back in?