Page 2 of Stevie
“Hurry up before I make you take it up the ass.” He snaps, smacking me upside the head. It’s always the same threat. He never wanted to fuck me anywhere but the ass or mouth because of the blood. He loved to remind me how disgusting it was that I bled constantly.
“Peaches?” I hear in my earbud, and I let out a sob. Brooks. Despite how much that man annoys me on the surface, I swear to god I’ve never been happier to hear his voice call me that stupid fucking name. “Stevie, where are you?” His voice is a near-feral growl, and I look at the scraggly man gripping my hair.
“I hate this haircut,” he spits while forcing me to my knees. “I much preferred that long hair I could yank.”
“Location baby, location,” Brooks says in my ear, his voice panicked and rushed. If I speak, Vincent is going to attack me. But if I don’t… fuck it.
“Private bathroom, next to the pamphlet rack-AH!” I cry out as Vincent grabs me, ripping my earbud out and throwing it across the bathroom.
“You’ll regret that one, you fucking bitch.” He smirks and goes to grab my shirt. I instinctively shove him away with all I have and run to the door, frantically unlocking it just as Vincent grips my hair and slams my forehead into the door frame. I’m disoriented and seeing stars as he shoves me to the floor.
“No!” I scream, clawing at his hands and face with everything I have.
“Stupid cunt!” He backhands me before gripping my throat to cut off my air supply. I try to smack his hand away, but he adds the other and squeezes tighter. “I was hoping to hear your cries as I fucked your ass, but you know I don’t mind doing it with you uncon–” The door flies open with a bang and we both jump. Brooks’ massive body storms in, his eyes landing on us, full of rage. I’ve never seen him look so angry before.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” he growls while grabbing Vincent by his throat and lifting him off me like he weighs nothing. Though, considering Brooks’ massive build compared to Vincent’s much smaller one, I guess he probably doesn’t.
“B-Brooks!” I cough out while weakly standing up and grabbing his large bicep. “Don’t. Just get me out of here. Please, I don’t want attention on us or you to get into trouble.” I whisper, praying no one walks by. Both Indy and I have been attacked today, I know the guys will want to go home if they find out and I can’t be a damsel in distress to my friends, especially when none of them know my history with Vincent.
Brooks glances at me briefly before punching Vincent in the face. I hear the clatter of teeth hitting the tile before Brooks grabs me by the wrist and pulls me out of the bathroom. We hasten our way through the lobby, avoiding the crowd for the convention, and he instructs me to take us to my room. I silently agree, unable to fully comprehend what has happened and what is happening now. We reach my hotel room, and I hand him the key card from my pocket. Once he ushers me inside, he locks the door and turns to me. I can see the adrenaline is still pumping through him; he’s nearly vibrating.
“Thank you,” I whisper, eyes still locked with his. Brooks’ eyes possess a mossy green hue with delicate brown flecks. They remind me of the gigantic old oak trees in the local forests after a storm. Like those moss-draped branches, his eyes are a truly captivating and enchanting sight. Or at least they usually do, but now there is a heated darkness in them, I feel in my very core.
“I should’ve killed him.” He snarls while moving closer to me. His fingers trail over my torn shirt, and an electric current runs through me. A million thoughts race through my head. The secret crush I had on him, him ruining said crush, and now him standing here, having just saved me, and we’re alone, and fucking god, he’s so good-looking. I am not lying when I say Brooks Dawson’s body is a fucking masterpiece. His physique is large and overpowering. Every line and curve seems to have been chiseled with the precision of Michelangelo himself. His shoulders—broad and commanding—scream safety and protection, something I yearn for at this moment.
My eyes break from his and travel lower, over the rapid rise and fall of his powerful chest, past the tapering of his shirt that accentuates what I imagine is a torso as equally defined and powerful as the rest of him. His forearms are tanned and corded, flexing with every clench of his large fists that rest against muscular thighs. He’s absolutely, infuriatingly gorgeous, and when you put all that together and top it off with his voice and that fucking sharp, scruffy jaw. It’s easy to understand why he has an overly confident tone in his voice. Brooks has a powerful voice, it’s always upbeat and playful. I’d go as far as to say overly confident or cocky. It’s one of the things that I like about him, secretly, of course. No one needs to know about my crush on this giant of a man.
“Are you alright?” He breathes and his voice is not his at all. His unshaken, commanding voice has been replaced with concern and something more, something desperate.
“Brooks?” I look up to meet his gaze again. Still as dark and dangerous as I’ve ever seen. It doesn’t intimidate me, but it should. Everything about Brooks should intimidate me. It’s taken years of therapy and exposure to the guys at Hel’s for me not to go into a panic attack just being near a man, but with Brooks, I’ve only ever felt safe, even now.
Closing the distance between us, I place my hand on his jaw.Mygod, he’s tense.It amazes me how my simple touch morphs him. His body visibly relaxes, and though he is still over a foot taller than me, he somehow isn’t taking up all the space in this small room. His eyes shudder before closing as he nestles into my palm. My breath hitches as his warm fingers tenderly encircle my wrist, anchoring me to his face as though it’s a life preserver thrown out to save him from being consumed by the depths of the dark waters.
“Stevie.” My name has never sounded so good, like a prayer and a hope. His eyes open, and the darkness is replaced with a heat that I know matches the one growing inside me. I know what he’s asking without him saying it, and though I shouldn’t, I can’t stop my head from nodding my consent. It’s all it takes: one slight nod, and before either of us can blink, his lips are on mine. I whine eagerly into the kiss, and my hands grip his shirt, pulling his body flush with mine. Possessed, I have a desperate need to have his overly large, protective body as close to mine as possible. I want to be overwhelmed by his presence. I want his body to suffocate me like the best-weighted blanket while I become intoxicated by his scent.
“Oh my god,” he whispers when he pulls away from my mouth. “Fuck, those lips feel better than I ever imagined.”Imagined? Oh fuck, has he been feeling this pull all this time too?Brooks grips my hips, and he pulls me to him, causing me to let out a sharp gasp as his erection presses against me. I reach my hand between us, cupping his cock through his jeans. “F-uck!” He grunts out as he leans his head against my shoulder.
“If we are doing this,” I whisper in his ear while massaging him. “I don’t want it slow, no sweet talking. You need to fuck me and be gone before my friends realize I’m missing and come looking for me.”
I watch him as he pulls back and looks at me in shock for a moment before nodding. “Sure, yeah, a quickie.” He mutters, fumbling, almost nervously, with his pants. I chuckle at his awkwardness as I slip out of my pants, noting there’s no blood. There hasn’t been any today, but I never know if it will change with my condition.
I lay on my bed, and holy…
“Brooks,” I stare in wonder at his thick, long cock with an impressive apadravya piercing through the head. He looks from me to his cock and gives me a sheepish smile.
“Okay, so I was trying something out a couple of years ago,” I lean forward, grabbing his cock and looking over the piercing. “Jesus Christ,” he whimpers while jerking in my hand.
“It looks good, great placement, and the heal–”
“Peaches,” he says through a ragged breath. “Baby, your hand is on my cock. I really appreciate your compliments on the healing of my piercing, but I really,reallycannot stress how little I care about it right now.” I throw my head back, laughing at his statement, not realizing I entered piercer mode. My laugh ends abruptly, and I let out a squeal as Brooks’ massive arm flips me over to my stomach. He moves me so easily, which I’m not used to because of my larger body. “You ready, Peaches?” He whispers, and I give him a soft nod before lowering back down. I feel him lining his cock up against my entrance before pushing inside me, and– “Holy shit,” I groan, flattening my upper half further against the mattress. “Brooks,” I whine his name as his massive cock slides in, filling me perfectly.
“Fucking hell, you feel amazing, Stevie,” he praises while running his rough hand under my shirt and up the only tattoo on my back - a tattoo of a spine with angry snakes coiled around it. “You ready?” He breathes, and my response is to push back against him. “Fuck,” he growls out, gripping my hips possessively as he and I find our rhythm, and fuck, it feels too good. His piercing massages my walls with the perfect amount of pressure, and I feel as though I’m about to fucking explode already.
“Brooks,” I mewl while pushing back and grinding when he’s fully sheathed inside me.
“Fuck,” he grunts, his grip tightening on my hips as he drives himself deeper. My god, I will be bruised in the best way tomorrow. “I’m so fucking close, Stevie,” He warns, and I feel his movements becoming faster, tense and jerky. I grab one of his wrists and put it on my clit.
“I need…stimulation.” I pant before hearing his sharp intake of air when he findsit.
