For Everything (9 page)

His hands moved up the bed until they rested next to her head. “I want you, so very much.”

His mouth cruised over her neck to her breasts, his hands following. A gentle brush upon her skin, he teased her nipples with his tongue until she arched into his mouth.

She closed her eyes, her breathing labored, fingers gripping his shoulders. Unable to deny how much she loved the feel of his hands on her body, the need he showed for her. When Clay touched her, loved her, she felt whole.

He ran his tongue over the length of each scar on her breasts, slowly working his way down her midriff.

Her body quivered, moving restlessly under his mouth.

He kissed his way down to her thighs, caressing the scars they bore. He gently turned her over, his eyes scanning her back, the scars. They started at the middle of her back ending at her knees. He kissed each scar, running his tongue along the length of each then he slipped his fingers beneath her underwear. He slowly pulled them off dropping them on the floor.

He saw the scars on her butt; using his fingertip, he traced them lightly before kissing each one running his tongue along them.

He rolled her over. Lily gasped as her body stiffened, but he didn’t stop, didn’t speak.

Clay traced each scar on her pussy mound with his tongue. He kissed, played on her skin until her body eased then he gently pushed her thighs open.

She stiffened again, knees locking straight, her breathing harsh as her eyes filled with tears.

He kissed her pussy mound as he glanced up, smiling gently. “I am only going to love you.”

Lily tried to cover the sides of her pussy with her hands, her face heating up.

He caught her hands, dragging them to his head, tangling her fingers in his hair, “don’t, let me.”

He slid his tongue down her slit again, but her body didn’t ease, pushing her legs wider he stared at the scars in the curves of her groin. He traced the puckered skin with his finger.

She sucked in a breath, her eyes stuck on his fingers, his movements.

He lowered his mouth, licking the scars, leaving wet heat in his wake. Clay sucked the scars into his mouth laving them with his tongue until she relaxed under his ministrations.

His mouth glided over her pussy to her slit, his tongue sliding along it tasting her juices.

She gasped, moving her hips with the tempo on his tongue.

He opened her pussy lips, his fingers sliding along the sides of her pussy lips. He flicked his tongue over her clit.

Lily jerked against his mouth, her fingers clenching in his hair. “Clay, what are you doing?”

“Tasting you,” he whispered.

“I… I…,” she stuttered trying to sit up, “you shouldn’t be doing that.”

“Why not?” he quickly realized she had never experienced this before, “I want to.” His eyes met hers. “Relax, and let me show you.”

He flicked his tongue over her clit feeling her body tremble. “Lie back.” He moved her legs, bending her knees so he had better access. “Let me love you.”

She lay back down her fingers clenched in his hair, knowing she did not want him to stop.

His tongue slipped over her aroused flesh, his hands opening her pussy lips as he sucked her clit into his mouth.

She gasped, her hips surging.

He flicked his tongue out, laving her pussy.

Her body moved against his mouth with each stroke of his tongue, quivers racing along her spine.

His tongue plunged deep inside thrusting before sliding up the sides of her pussy lips flicking her clit again.

Her hands jerked in his hair, clenching tighter as her hips moved faster. “Clay,” she cried, thrusting against his mouth.

He watched her face, the pleasure roll as he sucked her clit deeply into his mouth.

She surged hard against his mouth, her thighs clasping his shoulders, fingers fisting in his hair, a cry exploded from her lips.

He licked at her pussy, lapping up her juices. He loved the taste of her, pure ambrosia. When her body relaxed, he placed a long kiss on the inside of her thigh, before standing up next to the bed.

Her eyes flew open, watching him as he quickly undid his pants stripping them off, his body bared to her eyes. She licked her lips as her eyes traveled down his chest to his cock surrounded by ebony hair before moving back up his body and meeting his eyes.

He smiled, climbing on the bed he rolled her into his arms, his mouth finding hers.

She opened her mouth, her tongue meeting his as her hands roamed his chest, touching him in a butterfly caress.

He let her play for a few moments then pulled away. He turned her so she was facing away from him, her back to his chest, his cock throbbing against her ass cheeks.

“Bend your leg.” Clay waited until she did so. “Slide it over mine.”

She did, her hand resting against his hip.

He cupped her pussy, his fingers moving over her wetness, kissing her neck, her shoulder, and then her ear.

Her hips thrust against his hand, sweat dotting her body.

He slid his fingers down to her opening, thrusting them deep inside, keeping the pressure constant, and the friction moving. His cock rubbed against her ass with each thrust of her hips.

She sobbed, arching hard into his fingers.

“Lily,” he whispered, rolling her to her back, His mouth crashed down and his tongue plunged into her mouth. He pushed her legs apart thrusting his cock deep, groaning against her lips. His muscles trembled as he pulled back thrusting deep again, “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist as her fingers glided down his back gripping him.

She met him thrust for thrust, her fingers digging into his back, leaving impressions.

“Clay,” she moaned, her breasts plastered against his chest, sweat running down both of them.

He picked up his pace, his hips thrusting hard and deep.

He tangled his hands in her hair, arching her neck as he placed kisses and nips upon it.  

Her fingers raked his back, scratching his skin as her body arched, a cry falling from her lips.

He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the tide, wanting to ride her longer. He couldn’t, groaning he slammed into her with one last powerful surge. His seed flooded her body before he collapsed on top of her. His breath heavy in her ear, his body totally satiated he lay basking in the pleasure.

He placed a soft kiss on her neck, easing up on his elbow. “Lily, I love you.”

He glanced up to see her reaction to his words, only to find her eyes closed a slight smile curving her lips, her breathing deep and even.

She was sound asleep. Sound asleep with him lying on top of her, his body still joined with hers.

He smiled, pulling out he rolled to his side, wrapping her tightly in his arms. He wondered how she would react when she heard those words.

Chapter 13

Clay leaned up on his elbow watching her sleep. Unable to help himself he pushed the covers off her body looking at her scars.

They were straight cuts marring her skin, dozens of them. Someone had hurt her, badly and he needed to know who it was. He wanted to… NO! He needed to make sure they paid dearly for her pain.

His teeth clenched over the sheer amount of scars she had. No one had the right to hurt Lily. He sat up staring at her lower body the scars reaching her knees.

They were silver scars, little lines everywhere. The longest ran from her belly button to the top of her pussy mound. Her skin healed evenly leaving no protrusions to feel, except the ones on the inside curve of her thighs, which were deeper cuts.

The scars ran over her pussy mound and the sides of her pussy lips. Clay couldn’t imagine the pain, or fear she experienced when it happened. His finger traced the scar from her navel down to her pussy, feeling her eyes on him he looked up. “Tell me, Lily, please.”

****

Lily blinked back her tears, sucking her lower lip between her teeth. She had to tell him, she owed him that much. “My parents died in a car accident my senior year of high school.”

“I’m sorry.” Clay softly kissed her lips.

She swallowed. “A friend of my family’s… he was a few years older than me, helped me.”

“With?” he stroked her belly in feather light sweeps.

“The funeral arrangements, the insurances, the paperwork,” she stared up at the ceiling. “I thought he was my friend.”

“You thought?” he asked, his fingers sliding along her chin, her lips.

“He became my boyfriend, moved into my parent’s house with me, took over my life,” she whispered. She glanced at him as she struggled to find the words, her body shifting against his. “At first, he treated me well, but he changed.”

He stroked her cheek, watching her face. “What do you mean he changed?”

“He became mean,” she whispered.

His fingers stilled on her cheek. “Mean, how?”

“He called me names, pushed me…,” she hesitated, her eyes finding the ceiling again.

His fingers moved over her nose. “And?”  

“Hit me.” Her lip trembled.

His teeth clenched waiting for her to continue.

“He took my parents house, forced me to sign the title over to him,” she whispered, rolling her head, looking across the room.

Clay stiffened.

“He said it was for the best.” Tears traveled down her face. “I was too young to own a house.”

“How old were you?” he asked.

She swallowed. “Seventeen, he said I could still live in the house.”

“You could still live in the house,” he growled lowly.

She blinked repeatedly, staring out the window. “He had some of his friends move in. They all lived in my parent’s house, partied, and had girls over.”

Clay wiped the tears off her face. “He had other girls over to be with him, while you were there.”

She closed her eyes. “He didn’t like being with me, because I was cold, he needed variety, someone who…”

“Who what?” he asked, the fingers of his other hand clenching tightly.

“Who understood how to please a man.” Her cheeks burned, her fingers gripping the bedspread.

“He was your first, only?” he stroked the scars on her stomach.

“Yes,” Lily whispered.

Clay grazed her breastbone. “When?”

She didn’t answer not sure what he was asking.

He skimmed her breast, touching lightly, “How old were you?”

“Seventeen,” she replied honestly, wishing it were dark where she felt comfortable.

“How soon after your parent’s death,” he asked, his finger tracing circles around her nipple.

She shifted, her fingers fisting in the bedspread. “A week.”

“A week,” he gasped, his fingers tightening inadvertently on her breast.

“I didn’t like the sex, didn’t understand why people did,” she confessed, sensing his growing anger she added quickly. “Not until the first night with you.”

He teased her nipples again, brushing them gently as his eyes searched hers. “What happened next?”

“I found out I was pregnant.” She felt her fingers tingle from her tight grip.

“Pregnant,” he whispered, “what happened?”

“He didn’t want a baby, especially with me. He dragged me to this doctor.” She swallowed repeatedly, her voice catching, squeezing her eyes closed.

His fingers stopped moving, leaning forward he watched her. “What happened?”

“I don’t remember,” she whispered, refusing to open her eyes, “he knocked me out.”

“How did he knock you out?” he asked.

She raised her hand to her head. “I bled terribly. He wouldn’t take me to the doctor.”

His fingers lay still on her breast, his breath escaping in a rush.

“The pain was so bad, after he and his friends fell asleep I drove myself to the hospital. The doctor said they botched the abortion, had damaged me inside, said I would probably never…,” she trailed off unable complete the sentence.

“Probably never what?” Clay remembered their shopping trip, knew what her answer would be. He swallowed pass the lump in his throat.

“They… said… I… I…,” she glanced at him, her pain visible. “They said I would probably never be able to have children.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, brushing her lips in the gentlest touch.

She looked away from him back out the window, into the darkness.

“What happened next?” He moved his fingers over her breast to her collarbone.

“I wanted out,” she shifted, “I didn’t care about my parent’s house. I just wanted to get away so he couldn’t hurt me anymore.”

“What did you do?” he asked.

“I went to the police,” she whispered, “one of my friends went with me.”

“And,” Clay prompted when she remained silent.

“The detective called my trustees; they were going to make arrangements for me. The detective said he had taken advantage of my grief to steal from me.” She took a deep breath.