Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (93 page)

Tonight is different. That strange emotion Wil is omitting infuses him with enough courage not to harm himself. A warm mouth trails down my neck, getting sidetracked at
my breasts for a few minutes. The soft suction of his lips, the dab of his wet tongue, and the sharp edge of his teeth have me writhing on the mattress. I could let go and orgasm just from this, but I can feel the dampness of his tears on my skin. This is why I will do anything and everything for this man, he feels like he failed me- failed himself- and I don’t believe he has. Even the small kisses take courage. 

A nip to my inner-thigh has me opening for him. “I… I thought I should tell you. I… was coming when
it
hit. I… I did cum inside of you this time. I’m still hard because I didn’t get to orgasm,” Wil’s voice is hollow, childlike, and lust-filled, all at the same time. It’s a strange sound to hear from the grown man situated between my thighs. Wil is sure of everything, every day, with the exception of sex. When speaking of sex, he always sounds lost.

“I’ll clean you up,” he teases, voice deepening, becoming sultry.

“Wil, you don’t have to,” I softly say, placing a hand on the crown of his head. If I could, I would grab a hank of his hair and pull him away. But Wil’s hair is shaved closely to his scalp. Short of ripping his ears off, I have no handhold.

“Pixy,” he purrs. Even without light, I can feel his eyes searching for mine in the dark
ness of our bedroom. “I’m a man. No matter what, a man wants their woman to enjoy herself. I may not be… fully functional, but I feel good knowing that you feel good.”

“It just doesn’t seem fair,” I murmur, trying to hide the threat that my voice wants to break.

“I love the taste of your pussy,” he growls, the vibration against my thigh makes me moan. “I love tasting me on your pussy, knowing I came inside you. Let me,” he begs.

Usually, it never gets this far. He would have freaked out and ran to our bathroom by now. It freaks me out that we are breaking from the norm. I part my legs farther for him, shuddering when his hot breath caresses my sensitive flesh. Wil blows on my damp skin, causing me to shiver.

“I could do this forever,” Wil huskily says. “It’s the stuff with a dick that bothers me. You touching or sucking or riding my cock,” Wil tells me more in two sentences than he has in thirteen years. “I could spend an eternity groping your breasts and thrusting my fingers inside your pussy and kissing you- endlessly kissing you. But then I want more. I ache to be inside you… and that is the problem. The way my dick feels trapped, squeezed. It feels divine… but that wasn’t the first time I felt that… and I always remember how it felt to have unwelcome hands and mouths touch me. I’m sorry.”

“Wil,” I say, trying to sit up. But his hands slide upward, cupping my breasts and pinning me to the mattress. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know, but that doesn’t change it. It doesn’t take it away,” he softly murmurs.

An experimental lick to my thigh has me crying out, amazed that my body can find pleasure while my mind is screaming. I melt, my body turns boneless. There is nothing that feels as good as the flat of a tongue lapping between a woman’s legs. Smooth and silky, his tongue thoroughly tastes me, explores me. He licks and sucks and nibbles with extreme patience and skill.

“I’ve never done this with anyone but you,” Wil readily admits, and it surprises me with the amount of people he’s tried to be with. “
They
made me do it to them. I… I’ve been doing it to guys to erase that. I should probably tell you that,” he nervously whispers his confession.

“I… um… you know I don’t feel betrayed by that. I know why you’re doing it. Is it helping?” I stumble over the words, unsure how I really feel about it. I always know when he was successful in his endeavors, the level of guilt on his face is more so than when he fails.

“It doesn’t turn me on, but… I freak less and less, that’s why I do it. I’ve been… with guys… for the same reason. I should tell you that I never try with girls- you and um… you know who… are the only women I’ve ever touched. It’s always guys, because it was guys who hurt me. It’s not about sex. I don’t want them like that. I just need to change how I feel- about myself, about male parts, about how it feels to have my parts touched. I had to get that off my chest before it killed me. Okay?”

“Okay,” I meekly say. “Do you… do you ever enjoy it?” My mind takes a vacay as my emotions swirl out of control. Wil is talking to me- telling me stuff that bothers me. But if I say the wron
g thing, he will never talk to me about it again. This is trust, and I can’t break it.

“It’s hard not to enjoy it,” I can hear the blush in his voice. “I freak out every time, but it helps because I don’t freak out as much with you.”

“Just let me know the triggers and I’ll avoid them,” I quickly say before I lose my nerve.

“No,” he sharply says. “I won’t tell you the triggers because I want to overcome them… and I do want you to touch me. I want you to suck my dick and jerk me off. I want to make love to you and cum inside of you. I crave it, but even more, I want to enjoy it. I don’t want to freak out.”

“Whatever, whenever. I won’t judge,” I quietly murmur.

“I’m gonna finish eating you out now,” conversation over. “I… we’ll have to change the sheets. My cock is drooling all over the place. I’m so fucking hot right now. Telling you that made me want to fuck you… but I can’t. I can feel it waiting in my mind- the freak out. I don’t want to ruin this. We’ll cum to
gether. But the sheets will be messy,” even horny, Wil’s OCD rears its ugly head.

The laugh dies on my lips before it’s even released. Wil attacks between my legs. He’s always so gentle and thorough, but not tonight. Two thick fingers spear me, delving deep inside my body, hooking to reach that bundle of nerves, and rapidly flutter over that spot. I shift my hips, moving closer to him.

Wil’s mouth descends, and I lose time. He doesn’t kiss or lick or eat, he feasts on me. My legs quiver so badly that the bed shakes and I have to cup my palms underneath my knees to stop them from snapping shut on Wil’s head.

Wil fucks me with his fingers, with his tongue, with his face. I grab my pillow and bite it. The need to yowl my pleasure would awaken the house. I moan into
the pillow, silencing myself. The bed rocks beneath me, hard and fast, as if we are fucking. Realization dawns, Wil is fucking the mattress. His hips thrust on the sheets in time with the rapid movements of his fingers.

With my body and mind anxious for
release, it only takes me a few minutes to reach the precipice. His name spills from my lips, the pillow not silencing the deep groan that follows. My body tightly clenches around his invading fingers, womb spasming for something it can’t have. My clit pulses as he expertly sucks on it, circling his tongue around the nub.

Mid-orgasm, as I’m writhing and undulating all over the bed, a tongue impales my mouth as a cock impales my pussy. A hot wash flows inside of me, scorching, as my body milks at Wil’s cock. My arms and legs go around him, holding him tightly- fingers biting into his shoulders. Wil sharply bites my tongue, causing me to shout out.

I don’t know if it’s because he finally confided something to me, no matter how big or small, but I can finally feel his relief… and hope.  Our bedroom echoes with the most pleasure it’s had in eleven years.

Wil breathlessly gasps in my ear- his tone, victorious, “My grandfathers are dead. My brother killed our abusers a few hours ago.”

~Chapter Eighty-Three~

Stunned speechless, I want to shout
WHAT?
But all I can do is sightlessly stare into the darkness, wondering what Wil’s expression is… and
what the hell
?

Our bodies still joined, Wil whispers in the dark, as if we are speaking of the Devil himself. “I had to do this before I told you. I had to see if the terror faded with their deaths. I needed to know if their hold over me was gone. It was difficult, and it wasn’t perfect, but I know I can do this- I can do this,” he chants. 

Minutes, minutes trickle by that threaten to drag me into madness. My heart is pounding in my ears. Did I miss what he said? Am I deafened by my own heartbeat? Is Wil waiting for me to ask? But I know if I ask, he won’t tell me. I want to toss him off of me, and let my scream pierce the night.

“I know you should have been told immediately. I shouldn’t have let my personal demons take over our duty. But everyone is safe, I made sure of this first. I’ve only know this for the time we’ve been in here. I got off the phone while you were showering, so please don’t beat the shit out of me,” Wil says in a shaky voice, scared that I will disembowel him- which is pretty damn accurate.

“Bianca?” I whisper my baby sister’s name- the young woman I’ve raised for thirteen years. I only know of one of Wil’s grandfathers- Jon, Jonathon Wilson. My girl is with that madman-
was
with that madman.

“Bianca is safe. I spoke to her myself to make sure. She
is with my mother and her new enforcer, Sebastian… Jesus Christ, Pixy… the game just got rocked off its axis. We can… we can be safe… we can be free. All of the original elders are dead, with the second and third generations in control.”

Wil crawls off of me, and drags me across the mattress until I’m sitting in his lap. He shakes me, forcefully shakes me. “Do you understand the gravity of this? Do you- I’m free, you’re free. We can all be free!”

Stunned again for the billionth time this evening, I am speechless. I want to tell Wil that those elders in the second and third generations are just as fucked in the head as the first. But I know with firsthand experience how life-altering it can be when your own personal boogieman is dead.

“Wil, I know nothing of you, so you’re going to have to back up and explain this from the beginning. I didn’t get a phone call, so I didn’t get this information- you’re confusing me.”

“Umm…” Wil draws out. He picks me up and places me near the headboard. I can’t see. But by instinct alone, I feel him retreat near our bedroom door, like he’s going to make a break for it before I attempt to murder him.

“You did get a call. It was your phone I answered, and then I answered everyone’s phones while you and Stanton were chatting. I didn’t want you guys upset. I needed to get the information before you guys got involved. So…” his voice gets father away as he retreats closer to the door. “Everyone is breathing- mostly. There were a few casualties.”

“I’m not going to kick your ass until you explain yourself, then and only then, am I beating you bloody. Get. To. The. Fucking. Point,” I seethingly hiss.

“Okay… from the beginning
… Olivia is my mom,” he rapidly spits out. “I’ve always known. Olivia and my dad fooled around in their teens. But Olivia was promised to Anthony, so Dad was shipped back home- here- and then I was sent after I was born. It’s why I tried to avoid you- history repeating itself and shit. So yeah, I have a brother and a sister, besides Greta. I feel like we’ve massively inbred. My brother and your sister, and my sister and your bother, and their brother and their sister hooking up… but that is the game. I didn’t tell you because I’m ashamed of where I came from. Who wants anyone to know that they are the product of two child-molesting grandfathers- no one, that’s who.”

“Wil, I’ve never judged you,” I calmly say, even though on the inside, I feel a storm brewing.

“I know- I judge myself,” Wil whines, and I’ve never heard him whine before. My breath hitches in my throat from the emotion that his tone elicits in me. I take a deep breath. I have to keep my shit together until I know what’s going on.

“I need you to tell me what happened- succinctly tell me what happened,” I enunciate each word, trying to get across that we can chat genealogy another time- we have bodies on the ground, and I need to know who they are.

“After Stanton left, Dalton snapped. Pierre and Jon were going to abuse his friend, Sebastian. He’s Vincent Vance’s boy- Anthony’s old enforcer. Sebastian is straight, and I know that rape is rape, but it’s somehow worse for a man who doesn’t like men like that. Jon was going to rape Sebastian in front of Bianca. A switch flipped inside Dalton and he reached out and slit Jon’s throat.”

“Just like that?” I murmur underneath my breath in shock, knowing exactly how Dalton felt at that moment: the loss of control, the lack of choices, and the need to lash out to survive… and I know exactly how he feels right now. Numb- you think
you should feel relief or peace. But all you feel is a mind-numbing sensation as your soul adjusts to being a murderer.

“Sebastian got Bianca out before it escalated any farther. They met up with Olivia and told Devlin. By the time Devlin got there… I’m sorry, Pixy.”

“Sorry for what?” My voice is weak, small- frightened.

“I know how much you liked Anthony. I’m sorry, Pixy,” Wil sadly says. “Pierre killed Anthony to avenge Jon’s death. While Dalton was attending to Anthony, Devlin caught Pierre. We lost Pierre, Anthony, and Jon tonight.”

“What…” My mind is a jumble of
what the fuck?