Page 107 of Vicious

“You taught me to take what I want,” she retorts, raking her nails down my arms much harder. “And if that means I have to push, well…” She quirks a brow at me. There’s something questioning in her eyes, something vulnerable, and I kiss her in my best attempt to reassure her that there’s nothing wrong with pushing for what she wants.

Or rather, that there wouldn’t be if she wasn’t injured.

“If something ruptures, I’m blaming you,” I say.

May shakes her head. “No way. I’ll tell Dr. Twatwaffle?—”

Before she can finish, I thrust into her in earnest, pulling away so I can go hard and deep.

She lets out a half-surprised, half-pained cry, but it turns into a moan as soon as I bottom out inside of her. Her eyes flutter closed, her lips slightly parted as one soft sound after another escapes them while I fuck her harder than I probably should.

I keep glancing down at the bandages at first, making sure I don’t see red blossoming through them, but soon, I dismiss it. If the stitches get torn, they get torn. She’s going to have a scar anyway, and I’ll make it into my own, after all.

Her noises get higher, faster, and she clutches at me with her nails digging into my shoulders as she gets tighter and tighter around me. As she rides out her orgasm, her cunt tightens around me again and again, as though she’s trying to milk me dry.

I let go, drinking in her sounds, her smells, the warmth and the fact that she’s clinging to me, trying to keep me in place. The pleasure waves over me as I shoot into her, and I swear her cunt convulses in response.

When my orgasm subsides, it takes all of my effort not to collapse on top of her. I prop myself up on my elbows on either side of her, staring at my Ah-May. We’re both a bit flushed, with a thin sheen of sweat, and I can’t think of any moment when May has looked more beautiful.

She makes a soft purring sound, her eyes finally opening as she looks into mine. “What?” she asks with a quiet, almost nervous laugh. “You’re looking at me so weird.”

I shake my head and lean down to kiss her, just a brief peck to her lips. “Nothing.” I reluctantly pull out of her, wanting nothing more than to just stay connected to her. “Are you hungry? I can grab us some breakfast—lunch—in bed.”

“Mm.” She nods, going bonelessly limp back on the bed. “I’ll just… stay right here. You know, maybe I could get used to this after all.”

“See? Should have let me spoil you from the start.” I kiss her once more, and again, until several minutes have passed and my stomach starts to point out that we really do need food.

I sigh and slide out of bed, not bothering to put on clothes.

“Don’t go anywhere,” I say. My tone is joking, but I’m still half afraid that I’m going to return to an empty bed.

She snorts. “I don’t think I could move if I wanted to. Now go get me food,” she mumbles, and I have a feeling she’ll be asleep when I get back.

I look forward to having her in my bed tonight, tomorrow, and every other day of our future.

CHAPTER 30

May

As far as funeral turnouts go, it’s kind of a joke. There are a few of Baba’s old colleagues who give me sympathies, but a lot of the people he’d named as friends hadn’t bothered to show. A few people seem to only be there to gawk or gossip to each other about Baba’s life. Maybe if more people were here, it’d be less obvious.

“We don’t have to do a full hour,” Chase whispers to me. “Let’s do the eulogy now, grab the ashes, and go home.”

I hesitate. I want more than nothing to simply give the final words for my father and sneak out, but then, I’m not ready to say those words, either. They’ll make all of this real in ways I’m not sure I can face yet.

“I still haven’t decided what to say,” I admit to him in a low voice. “Especially to these people. Something heartfelt feels like it’d be a waste. And what am I supposed to say? He died saving my life? These people can’t know that.”

“Do you want me to do it?” Chase asks. He stands up straighter suddenly and nods at somebody. “Your Honor! I didn’t expect to see you here today.”

I turn my head to see an older man with gray hair approaching us. “Chase Vicious. I should say the same to you. I didn’t realize you were close to Simon. He didn’t strike me as the kind to have friends in high places.”

It’s funny how this man doesn’t even seem to acknowledge me, even though he’s here for my father’s funeral.

Chase smiles easily at him—and a bit sadly, too. “Well, in the end, I might have been one of the people closest to him. Have you met his daughter, by the way? This is May Sparks.”

The judge startles and finally looks at me properly. “Ah, Ms. Sparks. I’m sorry for your loss. Simon was…” He trails off, clearly struggling to say something. “He was a boon to have in the public defender’s office.”

I can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s just trying to make me feel better, and I realize I don’t actually know how good my father was at his job. I just knew he worked a lot, and that he gambled all the money away.

---