She knew that, she truly did. But she had missed him, missed his voice, missed his smell, his touch, his everything. She shook her head against him before she brought her head up to look at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, brimming with unshed tears and though she looked absolutely miserable, she still looked beautiful.
“Woah woah…Pan, speak to me. This isn’t like you. Come on, I’m home now.”
She swiped at her eyes, trying to get the tears to stop but it was like the floodgates on her emotions had become unlocked. He simply held her until she ran dry, which she was supremely grateful for. She sat up, pulling the sheet against her body for warmth as she dried her eyes. She took a tissue and blew her stuffed nose.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall apart like that.” she murmured, her voice still clogged with emotion. “Today has been…not great.” she stared down at her feet, her knees drawn up beneath her chin. She took comfort in the hand running up and down her back in a soothing gesture and knew it was time to tell him a bit of her past.
“Do you know how I don’t talk about my mother and stepfather every time you ask?” She waited for his nod before she continued. “There’s a reason for that.” Sniffing, she tucked her hair behind her ear and prepared to tell him the whole sordid story.
“My mother was once a beautiful woman. She had a great career as a high school English teacher and a man who loved her dearly, my father. My father was the manager of an Italian restaurant, loved what he did. He would always bring home little treats for me. When I was 7, he died. Killed by a drunk driver on his way home from work.” She closed her eyes in remembered pain. The funeral, the endless stream of platitudes and words of condolences.
“And then she met George. I was 9 at the time. He seemed like a good enough guy, a mechanic. He taught me about auto repair. Mom and he got married when I was 10 and the twins were born a year later. But then George started being weird. He kept giving me strange looks, especially just after I’d had a bath. Then mom started being weird. She lost weight. Became absent-minded. Started missing work. Dressing provocatively. Then she lost her job. I never did find out why until later. She’d been caught sleeping with another teacher, a married man with two kids of his own. Then she was arrested – prostitution. But when I was 18…she did something unforgivable. I had just come home from work. I was a stripper and I was using the money to take some classes at the community college in auto mechanics. The house smelled like weed and stale sweat. Mom and George were in the living room…doing lines of coke on the living room table. Mom saw me, told me George would pay me $500 if I gave him a lap dance. My own mother was trying to pimp me out to her own husband, a man who nearly raised me. I told them I refused. George got angry…grabbed me and threw me to the floor. I was so stunned I couldn’t move for a moment and then he was on top of me, trying to rip my clothes off. I was so scared that I did…something…I remember screaming and there was this smell of something burning and George got off me. I jumped to my feet. My mother was glaring at me with such hate in her eyes. George was cradling his arm…it looked red and blistered. I screamed at them that I never wanted to see or hear from them again and I left the house with the clothes on my back. I never returned. I spent a few weeks on a friend’s couch before I saved up enough money to come north.” she finished, shuddering.
She looked at him. “They keep calling me…making threats…no matter how many times I change my number, keep it unlisted…they keep finding me. They know where I live, Brock.” she stated.
It takes a great deal to anger a man. Brock had been trained how to deal with all sorts of situations, both emergencies and real life dramas in rescues. But what he wasn’t prepared for, was the admissions by Pandora of her youth, and the shocking account that her abusive parents had some how managed to track her down. Not only that, they keep finding her unlisted number. From an idyllic childhood, to then have her life spiral out of control from the excesses of her step father and the troubling influence that he had over her mother, it was all too plain to see, that Pandora needed protecting. Especially since her parents seemed to be insistent, if her story was anything to go by.
The more he heard, the angrier he became. He was also mad at himself, for having been away for so long without contact. She deserved more than that, especially from him. Raking his fingers through his hair, he climbed out of bed, and then started to pace back and forth, as though weighing up his options on how best he could protect her. If they knew she was here in this building, he had no idea how safe it truly was. He had no clues about the security systems, or evacuation points. His love, his woman was being threatened…and that just would not do. Finally he stopped pacing and turned to her.
“Pack your bags. I’m taking you home.”
<3>
“If you want to leave…I understand.” she whispered, eyes clenched tight as she tried to put the lock back on her heart.
But there was no sound of her apartment door closing, no sense of him leaving. She brought her head up and saw that he was staring at her with grim determination. She was shocked.
“Brock, what-”
“Pack your bags. I’m taking you home.”
Well that was unexpected.
Her mouth dropped open in shock.
“I-what?” she gaped. “But my job? My classes? And what about your family? I can’t barge in on your life like that!”
Pandora’s reaction was a spray of words, more shocked than anything that Brock would make such a bold request. But what she didn’t understand was that he saw her totally different from what she might have ever expected.
He walked to her closet and turned on the light, then went in and took out a suitcase, before bringing it out and setting it on the bed. His face was like granite. Brock would not take no for an answer.
“Pan…you are my life.”
This would have been a shock. He was putting her first, before family, his work, her work, and her studies. Brock turned and went to her chest of drawers and pulled it open, then started to gather up her smalls, and brought them back to the suitcase and dumped them in.
“Help me pack.”
It was almost like he wasn’t listening to her. But this was him, trying hard…so damn hard not to explode in rage. He couldn’t do that…he couldn’t afford to let her see the truth.
<3>
“Pan…you are my life.” 4 words…that completely undid her. He went to her closet and pulled out the one suitcase she owned, slamming it on the bed with barely controlled rage. He went to her dresser, jerking open the top drawer and yanking out her lingerie and panties and throwing them in the case.
She watched him for a few minutes, stunned beyond words. He was putting her first. His job, her job and her classes be damed, here was a man who knew what was important and what wasn’t. How could she deny him his request. She grabbed her robe and slipped it on, not bothering to tie it before leaving the bed.
She moved to his side as he was rifling through her clothes and she put a hand on his arm. The muscles was tense beneath her palm.
“Help me pack.” he demanded angrily. She released his arm and moved around to the other side of him as he continued shoving things in her bag. She touched his arm again then she placed her palms against his cheeks to force him to look at her. Once he stopped fighting her movements, she would kiss him with every ounce of feeling she possessed for him, lavishing him with all the love in her smaller frame.
That he was willing to say “to hell with everything” for her, touched her like nothing ever had before.
The first time she touched his arm, he couldn’t help the drawing tension of his muscle as he seemed to focus his anger at the way he was stuffing her briefs and bras into her suitcase. It was like he needed to channel that away from her. His eyes – black pools. Dark and angered. The second time, she touched his arm again, and he didn’t flinch. Then she went to get his attention fully, to make him stop what he was doing. This knee jerk reaction was one….of fear. Fear of losing her. And it scared him to death.
When she placed her palms to his cheeks and kissed him with every ounce of feeling, his inner walls started to crumble, as he immediately and possessively picked her up in his arms. The way he kissed her back..words could not describe. It was not the hunger of desire…but the need to show her, that she was his and no man…no beast…nothing on this earth would dare take her from him. His brow would be creased and the sound from his throat…like a horrid whine…strange and in a way frightening. His fingers practically dug into her flesh as though he was never going to let her go. He wanted to take her away..far away to a place no one could ever harm her again.
<3>
She struggled to be set on her feet, and dragged him to her bed. She shoved him as hard as she could in the hopes of pushing him down onto his back.
There was a charged passion in the air that needed to be assuaged and she was going to do so. She yanked off her robe, her naked body near to glowing with need as she stared at him.
“Off.” she demanded, pointing to his boxers.
It was like a game of tug o war. She struggled to be on her feet, he tried to pull her back into his hold once more. Panting heavily, snorting through his very nostrils. Pandora, with an amazing strength that even he never knew found himself being dragged to her bed. Again he tried to grab for her, but she pushed him down forcibly upon the bed, where his body did a bit of a bounce as he landed on his back. His chest hardened, and you could see the rippling of his washboard abs, that went all the way down to the show of his pubic hair line, that peeked outside his boxers.
Pandora ripped off her robe, with her body practically glowering before him, eyes illuminated as though on fire. “Off” she demanded, pointing to his boxers, which had a size able bulge now from his growing state. Again that same pained sound came from his throat as he released a breath, and with his fingers he tore at the cotton boxers and kicked them free from his legs.
Brock then laid there watching her as she stared at him with a renewed hunger brought about the anger and fear of the moment. His legs hung over the edge of the bed, feet apart so there was no modesty at all between them. Brock was so much bigger than Pandora, but the way she was acting, size meant nothing.
<3>
Once he was sufficiently wet to her satisfaction she rose up over him, straddling his body before taking him in hand and sliding over him, sucking him into her tight, wet heat. She cried out in satisfaction as she began to roll her hips over his. She tightened marginally, riding him hard, her hair fanned out behind her in a wave.
</3>
The moment her lips met with the silky soft of the head of his cock, Brock let out a cry as he tossed his head back. His right hand reached down to cradle the top of her head, while his knees drew back slightly to give her better access. Brock closed his eyes tight, zeroing in on the pleasures her tongue and sweet lips were giving to his most sensitive member. He let his fingers rake through her hair as he felt her head lower down, her mouth taking him in, with the tongue lacquering up his shaft. But just as he was starting to raise his hips up to meet her lips, she pulled away sharply, and his hand fell back to the bed.
Pandora was now showing she was far more dominant than she had let on before, and straddled Brock in a trice, lowering herself upon his girth, as the stunned Brock could only look up at her in awe. She was divine. So incredibly tight and all his. He needed her so badly, and she was proving now just how far she had fallen for him. He reached for her hips, that were rolling like waves upon the sand. Driving herself deeper upon him as he tried to push himself up to meet her, thrust for thrust. Brock reached around with his left hand upon her buttocks, his right on her back, so he could draw her down closer to him. He had no words, all he could do was stare into her eyes….the love there; beyond measure or question. Their bodies started to roll together, like in a dance as old as time itself.
<3>
“My protector.” she whispered against his lips, her voice rolling over him in a wave of dark desire.
Riptides….deep pools of desire and lust dragged against her, pulling at her in all directions, claiming her body and mind as he had claimed her heart and soul.
She could feel her powers itching beneath her skin, something else she had yet to tell him, but knew she would later. But for now, her need and focus was on him.
She cried out at a particularly hard thrust beneath her and her body seized up in his arms, long cries of delight coloring the air around them as she fell over the peak of passion. She continued to ride him, her body trembling, wanting to feel him fall with her as she gave him her love.
The ebb and flow – desire turning into something wonderful. Even their breathing though erratic was in perfect time. Her whispered words, that progressed that he was her protector were reciprocated as he bit at her bottom lip.
“My dark angel.” He believed that, she had fallen from heaven, just for him to find and raise up in the darkness to the light. From nipping, his tongue entered her mouth like a snake, only to mimic the actions of his thickened member and how it broached her lower lips. He felt her, in every inch of his body, from his head to the tip of his toes.
Breaking the kiss to breath he lost control, and started to buck his beloved. This brought a reaction, a cry that raise to the roof. Louder she became and he found his voice, in the midst of her moans and cries. “Yesssss” Like a hiss of a serpent, but much heavier, he seized her buttocks with his hand and then smashed their hips together, so the more she gyrated the harder his own flesh and hair would rub her sweet nublet of flesh, while her insides would be pressed up against, enough to invoke a chain of multiple orgasms. Brock focused and grit his teeth, jerking his body up so she could not escape the depth to which he plundered her womb. His whole body trembled as he was about there…ready to push her over the edge.
<3>
His hands gripped her bottom in a tight grip and he pulled her tightly to him. Again she cried out as that small nubbin of flesh between her netherlips was rubbed against the small hairs of him. The sensation was insanely erotic and she grabbed onto his arms to try and anchor herself.
He plundered her body, giving all of himself as she had done and there was no stopping the orgasm that ripped through her body. Her mouth opened in a long scream of passion, her body gyrating and broadcasting its need for ultimate completion with the man who claimed her.
She screamed his name, mind fogged with passion, not even caring if the neighbors knew what they were up to.
</3>
Brock didn’t need anything else in his life but only one. Pandora. Their flamed passion building, growing as the heat between them intensified and at the point where neither of them could hold back anymore, it exploded in a wake of feeling, that coursed between them. Both releasing in the same time, their bodies giving and taking. Fusing together, as Pandora’s voice was crying out his name, and Brock gasped and grunted almost shocked at the power of the orgasm that eclipsed anything he had ever felt before.
Brock claimed her, right there and then. Marking her insides with his seed, his love spewing out of him and drenching her insides, as his body jerked to the aftershocks, that continued as his brow was covered in dots of perspiration. He could only stare at his beautiful Pandora in wonderment. Did she feel it? Was it as real for her as he? Brock just wanted to now hold her, tight to his chest and stay within her body. Protecting her forever more.
God help who ever would try to come between them.
<3>
Their bodies were drenched in sweat, their minds fogged with passion and yet, she had never felt so close to him. She collapsed over him as his arms held her. Her ear was pressed over his heart, listening to the rapid beat of his heart as her body shook in his arms.
She had never felt so connected to another living being then she did that moment.
How could she put into words what she was feeling? How do you verbalize such emotions?
4 words was all it took. The same amount of words that had undid her from his own lips.
“I’ll go with you.” she whispered in the quiet as they struggled to regulate their breathing.
