Page 80 of Paladin's Hell

I don’t need asking twice. I follow Hell upstairs to his bedroom, only a quick sideways glance toward the storage room on the way, the room which used to belong to Blackie. He stops me as I walk through the door, pulling me against him once again, whispering in my ear, as though to remind me this place holds good memories as well. “This is where Kennedy and Samuel were conceived.”

“Ain’t going to be more babies conceived tonight.” I huff. “That’s one thing for certain. Getting old has some benefits.”

“Hmm,” he nuzzles my ear. “Good. Skin on skin. No condoms.”

I turn around. Going up on tiptoe I kiss him. “No condoms. Unless…” I frown.

“Not been with anyone Mo, I told you that. Only woman I want is the one here with me.”

He kisses me as he’s done many thousands of times before. Then he undoes the buttons of the blouse I’m wearing, and slides it off my shoulders.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, babe.”

“Can we turn the light off?” There’s an edge of pleading in my voice which makes him still.

“You really want to?”

“I’d like you to imagine what I was like before. Not as I am now.”

Ignoring my request, he removes my bra in a move he’s perfected over the years. My tits, no longer perky, drop out. His eyes flare as he touches my nipples, rolling them between his fingers and thumbs. “Love these, always have, always will,” he pronounces before he lowers his head, taking one hard nub into his mouth, and then the other.

While paying attention to my breasts, always skilled at multi-tasking, one of his hands moves to the zip of my pants. I place my fingers over the top to stop him.

“Please turn the light off,” I beg.

“No,” he refuses with just one word. “Need to see you, Mo. Need to show you I don’t give a fuck about wrinkles, stretch marks, cellulite or whatever fuckin’ shit you women worry about. I need to see the body that’s mine. Only mine.”

I’ve got all of those, and worse. For a moment my worry is greater than the feelings his administration to my breasts elicits. What happens if a man who’s taken Viagra is turned off? Or does he remain ready to perform even if his head’s not entirely on board? Guess I’m going to find out.

Moving down my body he trails his tongue over my stretch marks, tracing each one. He caresses the no-longer flat tummy, then starts dragging my pants down, my panties along with them.

I wait. Not disappointed when I hear him gasp. “What the fuck have you done to yourself, Mo?”

I suck in a breath, feeling the tears pricking at my eyes. Guess I’m going to find out how Viagra works. “It’s the menopause, Hell. I can’t fucking help it.”

He hasn’t stopped. Kneeling and moving down the bed, he pulls my pants off entirely, then sits back, examining what the harsh overhead light has revealed. He’s seeing, for the first time, what I see every day in the shower. My mound is now almost completely bare, just a few straggly pubes remaining around the edge. I keep them trimmed and tidy, but it looks a mess. There’s a little more hair still on my labia.

“Fuck, Mo.” His exclamation could be one of pleasure or disgust. Knowing how much he appreciates a neatly trimmed bush, I’m going with the latter. I risk a glance at his face, he looks like he’s thinking. Suddenly he leaps up. This is it. I disgust him. “Wait there.” What?

He’s got me naked, he hasn’t revealed himself yet. My jaw drops when he stands and barefooted, leaves the room.

Do I get dressed? Slide under the covers? Is he coming back or has he gone to find a whore to take care of his medically induced rock hard cock? I put my fist to my mouth, trying to stop the sob escaping. Hell’s gone.

But before a moment has passed, he’s back. He goes into his bathroom returning with a towel and something else.

“Up.” He instructs.

Bemused, I lift my hips and let him place the towel under me. Oh shit. “Hell?”

“Want to see all of you. Looks fuckin’ sexy, Mo. Can’t fuckin’ wait until I slide my tongue into you and you’re completely bare.”

I half sit up. Christ. I haven’t seen that leer on his face for years. “Hell,” I screech when I realise his intention. “You can’t…”

He slaps my ass lightly. “Fuckin’ can. And will.”

“Where the hell did you get shaving cream?” He doesn’t use it himself, he’s got a beard.

“Oh, Mace had some. And a spare razor.”

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