Page 48 of The Bones We Break
Dean fucking Sinclair. Retired Marine and hitman has laid claim to mywifeand she’s allowed him to, the cheating bitch. I’m surprised she even went through with the attempted suicide after my men ransacked her apartment, destroying everything in their path. She’s always been a weakling, a poor fucking sap, but what I didn’t plan for was Dean playing the hero of the story. The one to bring her back from the brink of death. But I suppose it works out for me, instead of dying a somewhat peaceful death, she’ll be dragged back to me kicking and screaming, and once I’m done with her, once mybuyerhas had his way with her she’ll be begging for death.
Casually, I slip my hands into my pressed trouser pockets. “She probably thinks that I won’t return. I’ve given her a false sense of security by biding my time but soon that time will be over, Nico. I’ll have her one way or another.” My tone is dark and threatening as I stride out of the warehouse towards my McLaren, leaving Nico to hold down the fort.
I feel like my life is finally coming together, don’t get me wrong I still have my down days where I question everything and the negative thoughts begin to seep into my brain but Dean is always there to remind me of how far I’ve come and the progress that I’m making. Everyday he showers me with compliments and tells me how proud he is of me. I’m also attending therapy every other week with Doctor Phillips. I was apprehensive at first, the thought of digging deep into my pain and trauma made me feel sick to my stomach, and to say I struggled during our first sessions would be an understatement. Dean picked me up like he usually does and the whole way home I was having a panic attack, my breathing strained and painful like a dead weight was sitting on my chest. Doctor Phillips said I would go through these motions, that by me talking about what happened would dredge up old feelings and break open old wounds, and boy what she right. I was ready to call it quits after the first couple of sessions, believing that I couldn’t do it any more, that I wasn’t strong enough to face my nightmares that plagued me everyday but Dean flat out refused to let me do that. He pushed me like I’d never been pushed before and at first I was resentful of him, like he was forcing me to do something I didn’t want to do but I know I needed to and I’m so thankfulthat he did because now my sessions are a little bit easier, my nightmares aren’t as often and I’m learning to love myself again which in turn is letting Dean deeper into my soul. We haven’t officially put a title on our relationship and I don’t think it needs one. He’s there for me like a partner would be, he cares and supports me every step of the way and that’s more than I could ask for.
It’s just me and Lyla at home today as Dean’s in the garage. He’s had a couple of resprays to catch up on and I’m happy he gets to do what he loves, but I miss him everyday that he’s not here. The feeling is strange and unusual to me. Yes, I miss my girls but this is a different type of yearning. I feel like half of my soul is missing every time he walks out of the door and it doesn’t become whole again until he returns.
The sweet smell of rich vanilla cookies swirls around the open kitchen, the low sun over the trees beams in through the kitchen window, creating an orange glow that shines along the kitchen units. I scan the kitchen to make sure Lyla isn’t standing behind me before I open the oven, a blast of heat hits my face as I grab hold of the tray before placing it onto the stove top, then turn the dial to switch the oven off and close the door.
I started baking a couple of weeks ago when Doctor Phillips recommended that I try a new hobby. My heart ached at the thought of wanting to read again but I’m not sure if that was ever going to be a thing for me again so I tried my hand at baking and if I do say so myself, I’m pretty fucking good at it. I thought it best that I begin with small cakes, vanilla, carrot, red velvet, chocolate. Those went pretty well and Dean seemed to appreciate the sweet treats I was baking. Once I mastered the smaller cakes, I attempted cookies, failing the first couple of batches. They were either too soft that they wouldn’t hold their shape or hard as rocks. I clocked Dean’s humorous expressionevery time I botched up a batch but he never let me quit or made me feel bad about ruining them.
A wide smile spreads across my face as I take in the perfect vanilla and chocolate chip cookies on the baking tray, the delicious smell making its way into my nose. I quickly spin round to hear Lyla jumping down from the couch before placing her head onto the window frame, the hot breath from her nose steaming up the window in a small patch. The distinct sound of Dean’s raptor coming down the gravel path rushes through the house, and my skin tingles all over, my heart thumping around in my chest. Now I know how Lyla must feel when she knows that her dad is coming home. The loud rumble becomes clearer the closer the truck gets until I see the massive black shape break through the tree line.
Dean pulls up at the side of the garage and Lyla begins to bark at the window. “Calm down baby, he’ll be here in a minute.” I coo from across the kitchen counter and she immediately stops her shouting. Laughing at her excitement, I turned back to the stove top to place the cookies on a cooling rack. The front door swings open, my skin prickles to life and shivers run up my spine at the sound of his heavy footsteps coming into the house. Slowly spinning on my bare feet, I turn to face Dean. The sight of him has my heart jumping into my mouth and my pussy purring. I mentally scold her for constantly wanting to jump his bones, but who can blame her when he constantly looks the way he does. His rich dark locks are tucked underneath his cap, a sheen of sweat covers his tattooed skin and he’s dressed in his signature all black cargos, boots and shirt. He drops his backpack on the floor and leans over to shower Lyla in affection and she laps it up, rolling around on her back as he scratches her belly. I’m half tempted to do the same to see if he’ll rub me like that.
Lifting my hand to my mouth, I discreetly try to clear the cotton ball in my throat but as soon as I make a noise Dean’s bright green eyes lock onto me like a missile. His gaze is burning with hunger, his sharp brows drawn together as he takes in my form, starting from the top of my head to my bare feet. He pats Lyla one last time before stalking over to me like a deadly animal. I fidget under his glare and I have to stop myself from rubbing my thighs together under his oversized shirt to ease the ache. Dean quickly closes the distance between us, his boots touching my toes and I crane my neck back to meet his face, my arms bracing on the countertop behind me. He spins his hat around before dropping his face to my exposed neck, the softness of his lips grazes the sensitive skin and I shudder under his tender touch, then he places one arm at the side of me, the orange sun beaming onto his warm skin from the window, his other hand barely grazing my knee before he drags his fingertips up my thigh, leaving goosebumps in his wake. My skin comes alive and I whimper at the double sensation of him touching my leg whilst placing chaste kisses on my neck.
Dean’s movements are torturously slow, teasing me until the ache in my lower belly is ready to burst. The roughness of his beard tickles against my skin as he makes his way up to my ear.
“You missed me, pretty girl?” The deep baritone of his voice penetrates my ear and I nod, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. “I didn’t quite catch that, I said did you miss me? Use your words baby.” Fuck. I’m panting like a dog in heat.
“Yes. I missed you.” I stutter over my words as his hand travels further up my thigh, lifting the material of his t-shirt, exposing my pussy to him. “Let’s find out how much you’ve missed me shall we?” He doesn’t give me any reprieve as he slips his middle finger between my pussy lips before coming back up to circle my clit. My head falls back, a heavy moan slips freefrom my mouth and I part my legs for him, granting him all the access he wants. Dean’s teeth nip the skin along my jaw until he reaches my lips, taking the abused flesh between his teeth before letting it spring back into place.
“You’re fucking soaked for me baby. Do you want to come?” God, I’m a desperate mess for this man. I nod but remember to use my words. “Yes. Please, make me come.” I beg and grind against his hand with zero shame. His jade green eyes lock onto mine as he ever so slowly pushes a single finger inside, the feeling is good but it’s not enough.
I want more, I need more.
“I need more Dean, please.” My eyes pleading with him.
“Does this pretty pussy want to be filled, hm? Stuffed so full that you can feel the burn of me stretching you wide open.” He begins to pick up the pace with a singular finger, the wet sloppy sounds bouncing around the kitchen. “I want that. Please, give it to me!” I beg and plead but he quickly pulls his finger out causing me to wince at the friction.
“What? No, no. Please I’ll be a good girl,please.” A wicked smile spreads across his face at my pleas, and my pussy tenses on nothing, desperate to feel him again. Dean lifts his hand between us, his middle finger is soaked in my juices, then he brings it to his lips and sucks my arousal clean. My mouth parts at the erotic scene before me, hot desire burns under my skin. Closing the small distance between us, Dean leans over me to the utensil pot behind me, the metal and plastic spoons clanking together until he grabs what he’s looking for, and I can feel my breathing beginning to grow heavier, deeper, more erratic as he brings the small, heavy plastic rolling pin between us, the exact one that I use for rolling out fondant. My eyes bug wide at the shape, it’s smooth and thick but looks tiny in Dean’s hands.
“You trust me mama?” He asks, his head tipping to one side. I trust him with everything that I am and I know he’d never put me in danger or hurt me purposely. The thought of him putting the rolling pin inside my pussy is nerve-wracking but I’m so fucking turned on for him that I’d happily let him fuck me with anything he desired. “I trust you.” I say with confidence and so much truth behind my words. “Good fucking girl.” He growls, the sound immediately sends a zap of pleasure between my thighs. “Open your mouth for me baby. I want this rolling pin nice and fucking wet for when I slide it into your pussy.”
My mouth instantly opens at his command and I stick my tongue out for him, he groans at the movement then slides the heavy plastic shape into my mouth and I wrap my lips around it, imagining that it’s Dean’s thick, heavy cock in my mouth, pleasuring him until he can’t take anymore. He eases it in and out of my mouth before pulling it out with a loud pop, a thin string of saliva pulls from my mouth, connecting with the tip of the rolling pin.
“You’re such a dirty fucking girl aren’t you. Put your arm under your leg and spread your pussy for me.” Dean’s filthy words have me panting and whimpering, and doing exactly as he says. I slip my hand underneath my thigh and lift it, my pussy lips spreading open, the cool air passing over my heated, exposed centre. Dean spits onto the end of the rolling pin and lowers it down until the hard plastic grazes against the apex of my thigh. My legs begin to tremble with nervous excitement as Dean’s lips find mine whilst he gently pushes the tip of the rolling pin into my opening, the deep groan that leaves my mouth is almost animalistic as he begins to push it further inside me, stuffing me with the smooth shape. Our tongues fight for dominance in each other’s mouths at the same time as he begins to slide the rolling pin in and out of my pussy.
Pulling my lips away, I break the kiss, my chest heaving and panting. “Fuck, Dean. It’s too big. I’ve never done this,” I cry out. I’m pretty sure the rolling pin is hitting my cervix every time he pushes it in again. “Good luck taking my cock then pretty girl, but don’t worry, I’ll make it fit.” He’ll what now? Make it fit? My eyes widen at his threat, but my pussy clearly has other ideas as I tense around the thick plastic shaft. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this baby. Your tight little pussy spread open for me. I can’t wait to stuff you full of my cock.” He begins to pick up speed, wet squelching noises fill the kitchen.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m gonna come, Dean!” I chant out, my voice is hoarse as I cry out my pleasure. His other hand quickly finds my hard nipple beneath the shirt and tugs it hard between his fingers, the painful sensation mixed with the burning pleasure that’s coursing through my body has me coming hard and fast.
“Oh my-”
“Fuck. Baby that’s it. Make a fucking mess of me.” Dean’s deep voice penetrates through my bones until I become limp in his arms, my head falling onto his chest. He carefully slips the rolling pin out and throws it into the sink, it rattles around for a second before stopping and I drop my arm, allowing my leg to fall to the floor.
Dean’s rough hands cup the side of my head as he lifts my chin, bringing his face closer to mine until our lips touch, the kiss is tender and gentle. Keeping his hands on my face, he leans over my shoulder and I spot his gaze landing on the cookies behind me. His hand slips away from my face as he quickly swipes one up from the wire rack, before taking a bite. I watch in trepidation as he swallows.
“Fuck me baby. These are almost as sweet as you. You’reamazing.” He gives me a wink and I bask under his praise. “Also, I have a gift for you.” He says, a shyness lacing through his voice.
“Along with the mindblowing orgasm you’ve just given me. My, I am being spoiled.” His soft lips tip into a smile before he walks back over to his backpack that’s laid on the floor. Picking it up he places it onto the kitchen island and I step closer, trepidation in my steps. I’ve never been given gifts before, not even my parents had the money to buy Birthday or Christmas presents because of my fathers gambling habits, and Ricky just straight up believed that I didn’t deserve them, that he’d already given me everything I could of asked for, so this moment right now has me on edge. Dean unzips the back and reaches inside, pulling out two boxes in one hand, then places them onto the countertop. My fingers tangle together and I tip my head in confusion.
“What are these?” My head gestured to the boxes laid out before me. Dean huffs out a laugh. “Well, pretty girl, the whole point of a gift is to open them and find out. So why don’t you open them?” He leans over the unit and pushes the boxes in front of me, my eyes bouncing between the two. They’re very simple, one is white and the other is blue but thinner, not as bulky as the white one. I bite the flesh inside my mouth until a copper taste lands on my tongue and untangle my fingers, my hands gravitating towards the blue one first. My gaze quickly looks up at Dean who’s looking at me with nothing but care and patience. Picking up the blue box, I inspected its sides. The weight isn’t too heavy either, and there’s also a pull tab on the back to open it. I grip the flap of cardboard between my fingers and tear the back of the box open to reveal a smooth rectangular device. My brows crease as I tip the contents of the box into my awaiting hand.
My heart skips a beat and my bottom lip begins to tremble, tears glazing over my vision. A Kindle E-Reader sits in the palm of my hand and I flick my gaze to Dean who’s already making his way around towards me.
“Wha.. Why did you get this?” I fumble over my words, my eyes dancing over his face. He brings his hand to my cheek to wipe away the tears that are threatening to fall. “I got this for you baby. I know I don’t possess the power to bring all your books back, and God, I wish I did, but I figured this would be the next best thing, plus you might finally let me in on the books you love to read.” I’m left speechless at his confession, my eyes bouncing between him and the Kindle in my hands. “I.. I don’t know what to say. Thank you, so much.” He plants a soft kiss at my temple before pushing the other box in front of me. I carefully place the Kindle down and lift the white box. My hands tremble, not really knowing what to expect next. Lifting the lid, the breath I managed to catch immediately leaves my lungs once again, seeing a brand new phone sitting neatly in the box. “I can’t accept this Dean, it’s too much.” I go to put the lid back on the box but Dean stops me. “You will accept it. Because I want you to have it. I know you’ve been feeling isolated here and you’ve mentioned before about wanting to speak to your friends again now that you’re away from Ricky, so I thought having a phone will help you with that, plus, when I’m not here I’d like to make sure that we have constant contact with each other.” I close my eyes for a moment, an overwhelming sense of appreciation washes over me for this man who’s done everything in his power to make me happy, to support and care for me. I truly don’t deserve him, but I will be keeping him. Gently placing the phone box next to the Kindle, I throw myself at Dean, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck and pushing my face into the crook of his neck inhaling his signature scentthat I find so much comfort in. He immediately catches me in his embrace, wrapping his firm arms around my middle.
