She needs a distraction? Fuck if I’m not going to give her one.
I replace my tongue with two fingers and thrust them deep inside her, bending them so I know they’ll hit the exact spot she needs. Her cries and mewls for more get louder and louder, encouraging me to push her higher.
Her body twitches and pulsates with the impending release, but I don’t let her fall, not yet. I slow the pace, circle her clit with the tip of my tongue, and her entrance with my fingertip as she pants and demands more.
“You want more?” I ask, my voice deep and husky, showing my own hunger for her.
“More. Everything. Please, Joe, please.”
Sliding two fingers back inside her, I lift my other hand and begin teasing her arse. She tenses for the briefest of seconds. I’ve no idea if this is what she had in mind when she said everything, but I trust her to tell me to stop if she doesn’t want it.
But she never does. The water running down her back is enough to allow me to push my finger inside her, and she howls with pleasure as I stretch her open.
She’s unbelievably tight, her muscles clamping down on my finger as my cock weeps to feel that kind of pressure. I suck her clit into my mouth, grazing it with my teeth, and with her full of me, her hips buck violently as she screams out my name, her pleasure racing through her body, making her legs go weak. Her fingers grip once more as she tries to stay upright as she rides out the pleasure.
Watching her come apart above me, even as broken as she is right now, is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. My heart damn near burst out of my chest for this incredible, brave woman before me.
Once she’s ridden out every wave of pleasure, I pull my fingers from her and sit back on my heels. My cock’s trying to rip through my boxers as I watch her chest heave as she tries to catch her breath.
Without thinking, I press my hand to my side, where the dressing is coming undone with the amount of water that’s soaking into it.
“Shit, you shouldn’t be getting that wet.”
“I don’t give a fuck. You needed me. I’m here.” I climb to my feet and take her face in my hands. I want to say it’s smooth, but the reality is anything but.
“But—”
“No buts.”
“Okay, but I really think you should go and lie down.” I want to argue and tell her that I’m fine, but I think we’d both know that would be a lie. “I’ll order us some breakfast and we can see what’s on the TV.” It’s her way of putting off the conversation from last night that we need to continue. Although our impromptu shower has answered quite a few questions I had about what happened while she was locked up in that bedroom, I won’t be happy guessing based on her injuries. I need her to tell me. At least that way it’ll stop my imagination going wild.
With Quinn’s help, I drop my sopping wet boxers to the tiled floor and wrap a fluffy white towel around my waist. I want to stay and make sure she’s okay after everything that just happened, but I’m struggling to hold myself upright.
Using the wall for support, I make my way to the living room and lie back on the sofa to the sounds of her faffing around in the bathroom.
Ignoring the TV for now, I focus on the scenery outside. I love London; it’s the only home I’ve ever known, but I can’t imagine wanting to move there after living somewhere as beautiful as here. I always thought I’d be a Londoner forever, but just my short time here is giving me ideas about my future that have never been there before. Suddenly I’m seeing a life in a house in the country with Quinn and a couple of kids. My heart races, but it’s not with the panic I thought it would be with the images that are playing out so clearly in my mind.
I’ve always said point blank that I’ve never wanted to settle down. Never wanted to have kids and subject them to even an element of what I’ve had to suffer during my life, but suddenly none of that matters because I know that, with Quinn by my side, I’d never need to worry about our children suffering because they’d have the most incredibly supportive mother. We’ve both been screwed over by bad parents, and I can’t help but wonder as I lie here with the winter sun streaming in through the huge windows if all of that bullshit was just preparing us for our future as parents ourselves. We’ve both experienced how bad it can be; we know exactly what not to do.
“What’s put that smile on your face? I thought you’d be frustrated with blue balls,” she says with a laugh. My heart drops slightly when I see she’s totally covered up again in those damn leggings and what I’ve realised is Lauren’s hoodie.
“Just thinking about our future,” I admit.
“Our future, huh?” She comes to sit on the free bit of sofa beside me and places her hand on my chest.
“Yep. Wondering what our kids might look like.”
Her eyes widen in shock, but she doesn't look totally opposed to the idea. “You’re not serious?”
“Deadly. I thought I’d lost you, Quinn. When I turned up to class and found Eddie standing at the front of your classroom, I thought that was it for us.”
“I’m sorry.” She looks away as if she’s ashamed of everything that’s happened.
“Hey, don’t do that.” Lifting my hand, I cup her cheek and turn her back towards me. “Don’t apologise for anything you didn’t have control over. The only thing I wish was different is that you’d told me what kind of danger you were in. I’d have done anything in my power to protect you.”
“I didn’t want to drag you into all this.”
“How’d that work out for you?” Her eyes fill with tears.