I thread my fingers through her hair, unraveling some of the mess I made. "You would like my parents," I begin. "They always wanted a daughter too, but after me, their one and only child, they were never successful." I take my other hand from her shoulder and use it to help unweave her tangles as I continue speaking. "I had a dream childhood but wondered, often, if they adopted me. I was completely opposite from them. If there was a violent sport, I wanted to play-ice hockey, football, rugby. It didn't matter how many bones I broke, I lived for the rush." I peel hair from the side of her face where sweat has glued it. I lift the strands I remove and bring them to my nose. God, she smells wonderful and it's even better now that the scent of sex fills the room. She snuggles in closer with a small purr. "My parents are the gentlest, sweetest people you could ever meet," I continue softly. "They spent their younger years marching against war, fighting for gun control, and shaking their hea
I've slept with women from time to time but seldom, if ever, do I find enjoyment in the actual sleeping. Angel is different. She snuggles in, digging her hands into my biceps, making herself an extension of my body. Waking up and looking at her long, braided hair makes me think of the possibility of waking up beside her each morning. Then my mind wanders to Monroe and all my uncertainties resurface.I gently pry her fingers away and offer a soft kiss on her cheek when her sleepy eyes open. I pull myself out of bed even though it's the last thing I want to do. Angel rolls over to her back and one breast is exposed. Fuck me because I want nothing more than to climb back in bed. I slap her thigh instead. She needs to stop enticing me. Hell, if she were wrapped in a brown sack my dick would still be hard right now. "Come on, sleepyhead. I'd like to take a walk and stretch out my knee. We won't leave the property, so wear what you like." I head downstairs before Angel leaves the bed and
The day passes quickly. Before the sun goes down, we dress for dinner with Damian and Lydia. I put on jeans and a black button-down shirt, which I leave hanging loose. Angel looks unsure when she walks into my room wearing another set of flowing pants and top. Her head and hair are covered."You look beautiful," I tell her because it's true. There's something to be said for keeping Angel's curves to myself. Her relieved smile makes my cock stiffen and my jeans uncomfortable. "Once we're inside Damian's apartment, would you be willing to uncover your hair?"Her eyes shine into mine. "If that is your wish.""Will it keep you from enjoying yourself?"She shakes her head. "No, I do not think so.""Then that, my beautiful damsel," I place a soft kiss on her cheek, "is what I wish."***I resist the temptation to hold her hand during the drive, but only because I need to shift gears in the Mustang. My craving for touch hasn't diminished, and I only make it halfway to our destination b
The ride home is quiet until Angel's voice fills the car. "Thank you," she says while looking down at her lap.I reach over and cover her joined hands. "What for?"She looks up. "For not making me attend the club."My grip tightens on the steering wheel. "Does Monroe force you to go?""Only for punishment."I relax slightly because it's good to know Monroe doesn't force her to play in public on a whim. "Why would he make you do something that is obviously a hard limit for you?" I ask as I do my best to keep anger from my tone.Silence is my answer.I want to yell in frustration. "I won't take you to the club for punishment, but I don't think you'll enjoy the ones I'll give you in place of the club. Now that we have that settled, I asked you a question."Her eyes move back to her lap. "He does not enjoy hurting me and prefers punishments that do not leave marks."I choke out a laugh. "The man is a sadist! Believe me, he loves leaving those marks and causing you pain.""He does
Another week passes. We cook, walk, and talk about everything under the sun. Angel loves classic movies. I love watching the emotions that cross her face while she watches the old black and white cinematic genius. I also wipe away the tears when she cries over a sad scene. We are getting to know each other as friends-far past any D/s relationship we're playing at.I love her laugh, her sense of humor, and her wit. Seeing the world through her eyes is different for me. I've never spent this much exclusive time with a woman. Her idiosyncrasies are eye opening and delightful. I finally figured out that Angel is too complex to place in a one-size-fits-all hole. She's so incredibly unique that I find myself thinking about growing old with her and starting a family.This is what's going through my head while I perform maintenance on the Mustang and Angel wears short shorts while being my gofer. The thoughts leave me so hot and fucking bothered that I use one of the condoms in my pocket fuc
Monroe has time to block the punch, but he doesn't. He turns his head slightly and takes the blow on the side of his jaw. On unsteady legs, he stumbles back several feet. He looks up at me and his hand comes away with smeared blood from a small cut at the corner of his mouth."I will not fight back, but I would prefer no broken teeth.""If you won't fight back, broken teeth will be the least of your worries." This time my fist lands in his midsection.When Monroe's able to straighten upright, I come in with another strike to his face. We're both breathing heavily, with sweat beading on our skin. Monroe doesn't fight back, nor does he avoid my blows. A small piece of sanity returns to my brain, but I still want to cause damage. "You might want to change your mind," I taunt."I might," he says with labored breath and holds his side. He turns away from the next blow so his shoulder takes the hit.I draw my fist back again. The gray cloud in my brain clears completely at the sight of
Angel's room is dark but the light from the other room is bright enough that I can see inside. She's lying on the bed. I don't think she's crying. My weight sinks into the mattress and I move my hand to her head, smoothing away wispy strands of hair. "We'd like you to come downstairs and sit with us."She rolls over and grabs my hand. Her eyes are desperate and she looks on the verge of crying again. "I love you," she says simply.Her words sing through my heart. This is so fucked up. "I love you too, but I'm not sure this will work."She sits up and wraps her hands around my neck, holding onto me the same way she held onto Monroe earlier. It leaves a bittersweet taste in my mouth and the last thing I want to do is let her go. Her head tilts back and she kisses me. Her lips are so damn soft-her skin, her fucking hair. Everything is so incredibly soft. She's giving me her heart in this kiss.I take it.We break apart, breathing heavily. "Come on," I say as soon as enough air enters
The jerking of Angel's body wakes me a few hours later. She's speaking Arabic in her sleep, and she's obviously terrified. Suddenly, she sticks out her arms and her legs fly. Then the screams begin. I manage to turn on the light as I struggle to contain her. One of her hands goes to her face and she scratches a deep gouge down her cheek."It's me, Angel! I've got you! Wake up!"She's beyond the sound of my voice as she continues to thrash out of control. From the corner of my eye, I see the door open and Monroe is there. "Here," he says as he tosses me two skeins of rope. "Tie her hands and secure them over her head. Then get her legs." Monroe sits on the bed and shifts his chest across hers, pushing on her torso while I tie the ropes. Her terrified screams don't let up even with her lungs compressed."Hold her tight, Zach." Monroe covers her nose and mouth with his hand, cutting off her incoming supply of air completely.She fights harder. Her crazed eyes see nothing or maybe sh