Undefeated - A New Adult Romance Novel (14 page)

Shane Dekkar.

Holy fuck. I am in no way prepared for anything like this. I’m just not.

I thought of the scenes in my books. They last much longer than this. The sex goes on and on and on. Sometimes they have sex in several different positions.
God, I’m going to have to find some form of energy and try and control these earth shattering orgasms.
Maybe if I didn’t look at him, this will be easier.

I’ll keep my eyes closed.

That should do it.

I closed my eyes.

I felt nothing. He wasn’t touching me. I wondered if we were done.

I opened my eyes.

JesusfuckingChrist.

He stood in front of the counter, stroking his cock in his right hand.

I slapped the counter once.

Startled, he jumped and wrinkled his brow. His stroke slowed down.

No no no. I love it. Stroke it for me please. I’m in fucking heaven.

Still lying on my back,
I raised my fists above the countertop about six inches and gave him the thumbs up sign. I nodded my head sharply.

His pace sped up slightly.

I tapped the counter once.

Both t
humbs up.

He stepped to the side of the
counter, steadily stroking his cock. As he approached the edge, he grabbed my lower legs and pulled me to the side of the countertop. With my ass half hanging of the edge, He slowly pressed the tip of his cock into my soaking wet pussy.

Ohgoodfuckinggod.

This will never work.

I leaned up and slapped his thigh twice.

A million little thoughts ran through my head. I wondered if it was possible that his cock
wouldn’t fit inside of my pussy. I had never considered that, but I guess I never really asked anyone if they had heard of it happening before. As he began to pull out, I slapped his leg once, focused, and let out one word.

“Slow,” I sighed.

He nodded his head and looked down at my pussy as he guided himself inside of me again. As I felt him pressing inside of me, I took a deep breath and relaxed. The feeling of his huge cock pressing inside of me prevented me from relaxing much, and I became frustrated.

I bit my bottom lip as his cock slowly pushed deep into my wet pussy. It felt like it was in my chest. I exhaled, and took a slow breath. He held his cock deep inside of me, leaned forward, and began to squeeze my breasts.

“Kace,” he said softly.

I looked up.

“Relax, babe. Breathe,” he said.

I nodded.
As I felt his cock begin to slide out, I pressed my elbows onto the counter and raised my shoulders off of the counter. I looked down and watched in amazement as his cock slid in and out of my wet pussy. As I watched him fuck me, I felt as if seeing it happen made it much easier. If it was even possible, it felt as if seeing it made me more lubricated and wet. I watched his glistening cock slide in and out of my soaking wet pussy. Each stroke became easier, and I got lost in watching him fuck me.

His stomach muscles flexed as he stood on his tip-toes and slowly slid himself in and out of me. I focused on his body and watched him admiring mine as his hands now held my upper thighs.

I began to feel as if pressure was building up inside of me. I pressed down on my bottom lip with my teeth. The feeling of having Shane fuck me was almost too much for me to take. I began to tingle, and I felt my breathing change. I was going to have an orgasm, and this one was going to kill me.

Remembering what I had told him at Ripp’s house a few weeks ago, I wondered what he must be thinking.  

But when you decide it’s time, as you say - know this. I like it rough. Think about that. And you better pray to God that you’re ready…

I stopped biting my lip and looked Shane in the eyes. As he looked at me and smiled, his perfect white teeth glistened.
Again, I thought of everything I had read on my Kindle over the past few years. I opened my mouth and stared at Shane’s face.

“Shhhh,” he said softly as he forced himself in and out of me.

I shook my head from side to side.

“
Fuck,” I inhaled slowly after the word came out.

“Fuck me,”
I exhaled as I spoke.

I can do this.

“Fuck me hard, Shane. Fuck me hard, please,” I begged.

He sped up his pace.

I shook my head and waved my arms in the air like a child wanting to be picked up by his mother.

He moved his hands fro
m my waist to my armpits, and lifted me up. He slid his forearms under my armpits, his hands behind my back, and lifted me from the counter. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist, and laid my head on his shoulder. Immediately, I felt calm.

I whispered in his ear, “No. Fuck me. Please. Fuck me. I want to remember this.”

He began thrusting his hips upward, his upper thighs and hips bouncing against my ass as his cock slid deep inside of me.

“Against the wall,” I begged.

I’d seen the pictures on Tumblr at work of women being fucked against the wall by a muscular man. I wanted that.  As he carried me to the wall I became more excited. As I felt my back against the cold wall, I tensed up and took a quick breath.

“Do it,” I growled.

He slid his hands from my back to under my ass. Slowly, he began to fuck me against the wall, his hands cupped under my ass cheeks. I closed my eyes, thinking of the books, the pictures, and the fact that we had finally made it to this point.

“Harder,” I pleaded as I bit his neck.

He tilted his head toward me, trying to force my mouth off of his neck. I bit harder and grunted through my clenched teeth.

“Hr
rrder” I grunted.

He began to forcefully fuck me, shoving his entire cock into me. Each thrust lifted my body six inches. As so
on as my body slid back down, he would thrust against me again.

Yes, this is what I want.

“Hrrrder” I begged through my clenched teeth, biting his neck harder.

“Fuck Kace,” he screeched, twisting his
neck against my bite.

 
I released my grip on his neck.

“He speaks,” I breathed into his ear.

“Well, you weren’t saying shit,” he said as he pressed me to the wall.

“I was nervous,” I gasped as he softly pounded me into the wall.

“I’m fine now,” I grunted as he thrust into me.

“You aren’t going to hurt me,”
I whispered into his ear.

“Now fuck me like I want,” I bit his neck again.

He began forcefully fucking me into the wall. With each stroke he increased his force and speed. My head began to hit the wall. I slapped his back once and bit his neck harder.

“Hr
rrder” I begged though my teeth.

He pounded me into the wall.

I felt my pussy contracting as his massive cock thrust in and out of my now soaked pussy. His cock felt as if it were growing. He fucked me into the wall with each stroke. I closed my eyes and bit his neck

My breathing became short and shallow. It was as if I almost forgot to breathe. His cock swelled. I released my grip on his neck and moved my mouth to his ear.

Yes, I want this.

“Cum inside of me. Fill me with cum, Shane. I want to feel it,” I growled into his ear.

His breathing became choppy and he closed his eyes. I felt myself begin to reach a climax I had no idea existed. As if my body was warning me, I tensed up and focused, squeezing his body against me.

“Kace,” he said.

Kaaaace,” he repeated slowly and softly.

“Do it,” I sighed.

I closed my eyes.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck…Ooooh fuuuuck,” I heard the words somehow escape my mouth.

I felt his cock swell and ejaculate as he groaned. At the same time - whatever was trapped inside of me released as if I had actually exploded - emotionally. I gasped for a breath. I felt myself running down my legs. I could not speak or think. Caught in that particular moment, I just blinked my eyes.

Finally, my eyes began to focus. When I looked into his eyes, I saw relief.

Not an orgasms worth, but a lifetime.

I leaned back into the wall, still incapable of speech.
I took a slow breath and exhaled.

Ahhh. Basil.

I pushed his head back, and as I looked into his steel grey eyes, I leaned forward and softly kissed the most beautiful man in the world.

And finally, I was able to speak.

“I love you, too,” I said softly.

And I began to cry.

SHANE.
In my experiences with life, I have often searched for something or someone to satisfy a void. When I do, I often settle for something substandard or second rate. I do so because I feel I must fill that void. When I do not look, or do not try to resolve a particular deficiency, I often stumble onto what it is that I actually need. Life tends to provide us with our most valuable assets when we least expect it or we’re not particularly looking.

In life, we need to pay the closest attention when we aren’t paying attention at all.

Life has a way of sneaking up on us.

This, in itself, is why I pay attention to all of the little details.

I don’t like surprises.

“So, you think you’re going to be alright, babe?” I asked as we turned the corner into the residential neighborhood.

“I think so, as long as you’re close by. You make me really feel comfortable. I don’t get excited anymore around you,” she giggled.

“Nervous?” I asked.

“Duh,” she said flatly.

“How long?” I asked.

“I don’t know for sure, I think it’s been ten years. I’m not really sure. I don’t remember. It’s been a long time. Since before I graduated high school, if I remember right,” she said.

Kace, no different than I, didn’t remember a tremendous amount of her childhood. Her memories - or lack of memories, lasted much later into her teens. I suppose her problems lasted longer as well. I didn’t remember my childhood because I was moved around and my father was gone. She didn’t remember because she had events or circumstances her mind chose to set aside.

Women like her, coming from the background she came from, tend to set aside memories associated with abuse. The funny thing about our mind is that it will often set aside e period of time – maybe a few years – to get rid of a few memories of particular events.

Kace hadn’t initially told me, but eventually she admitted that her father abused her mother physically. Her mother finally left her father after many years of being beaten. Kace, at the time, was about twelve. Being exposed to this abuse generally makes the children either totally opposed to abuse, or an abuser. It just depends on the person and how their mind processes it.

“By the GPS, we’re just a few blocks, you sure you’re alright?” I asked.

“My stomach feels funny. But you can’t fix it. Just go, I’ll be fine,” she responded.

I was glad that we decided to come see her mother now, long before the holidays. It might allow her to make the adjustments needed, which would allow her to see her family at Thanksgiving and Christmas.

“Well, here we are, house number
648,” I said as we pulled up to the front of the home.

She swallowed heavily.

“You alright?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she sounded like she had a frog in her throat.

“Babe, any time you’re ready to go just tell me so. I’m damn near as nervous as you,” I chuckled lightly.

She nodded.

“Who, babe? Who’s the most beautiful woman in the world?” I asked.

She pointed to her chest and smiled, “I am.”

“Yes, babe. You are,” I said as I leaned over toward her seat and kissed her.

“Ready?” I asked.

She opened the door to the truck and got out.

I guess that means yes.

Kace was one of the most, if the absolute strongest women I have ever met. Kace was a true survivor. One hundred pounds of
tough.

As I fumbled with the door handle, she stepped around to my side of the truck and waited.
Finally, I opened the door, and stepped outside the truck.

“Alright, let’s do this,” I said as I held my arm out to my side.

After she attached herself to my arm, we walked up the sidewalk together to the front porch of the house. As I reached out to ring the buzzer, the door slowly opened.

“Oh dear Lord. The pictures didn’t
do you any justice. Kace, you’re beautiful,” a woman said through the opened door. She was petite, blonde, and very pretty.

“Come in,” she said. As s
he held her arms out, they began to shake.

As we stepped inside the home, Kace
immediately hugged her mother. Ten years of sorrow began to run down the cheeks of both women as they embraced. The sounds of sobbing muffled the sound of everything else.

“I’m sorry,” Kace sobbed as she wrapped her arms around her mother’s shoulders.

“No, baby. I’m so sorry. I never should have let you go,” her mother apologized as she began to cry uncontrollably.

I stepped to the side of the doorway, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the situation. Seeing Kace crying like this was not easy for me. Seeing people cry, in general, was difficult for me, especially women.
Feeling somewhat helpless, I found a chair and sat quietly as they stood and cried in each other’s arms. Slowly, I pulled my hood up over my head, and pressed the soft fabric into the sides of my face.

Eventually, they walked into the living room and sat down side-by-side on the couch. I sat and watched them exchange short embarrassed glances at each other as they covered their mouths and tried to stop crying.
Eye makeup streamed down each of their faces.

“I missed you so much,” Kace sobbed.

“I missed you, Kace,” her mother whimpered as she leaned over and kissed Kace’s forehead.

Her mother stood, looked at me, back toward  Kace, and sat down as if she were confused on what to do or ho
w to digest the entire reunion. Overcome with emotion, her mind appeared to be having a difficult time deciding what the proper thing to do with a situation like this was. Not seeing or talking to your child in a decade, and then trying to start over as if nothing happened would be difficult at best.

“Oh God, this is too much, Kace. I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack,” her mother said as she held her hand against her chest. Her breathing was short and choppy as she tried to control her sobbing.

“Mother, don’t say that,” Kace smiled and wiped her eyes as she spoke.

Finally, they were smiling.

Her mother, between sobs, laughed. As they hugged again, I relaxed and leaned back into the chair. Watching someone cry tears of joy can be almost uplifting. Watching someone cry tears of sorrow has always made me feel helpless. This was, in my opinion, a combination of both. My emotions were riding a roller coaster and I felt like I couldn’t see the track ahead.

“So, this is Shannon?” her mother asked as she stood again.

“No mother.
Shane
,” Kace responded.

As her mother approached, I stood. She opened her arms and reached for me, and I met her with a heartfelt hug. As we embraced, she sighed.

“I’m so glad you saved her,” she said as she released me from her grasp.

Before I could respond, Kace spoke up.

“Mother,
I saved myself
. Shane has just been here for me. He talked me into seeing you. I’ve been scared. If anyone knows,
you know
,” Kace took a breath and wiped her face.

“Oh look at us,
our makeup all over our faces, come on,” her mother said as she grabbed Kace’s hand and led her away.

I felt even more at ease as I heard them laughing and talking in the bathroom. A mother and her daughter reunited after this length of time.
I exhaled and relaxed. I thought of my father, and how long he had been dead. It had only been a few years since his death, but seeing him again, now, would be gut wrenching at best. I recalled all of the time he was away when I was young, and seeing him when he would return from war. 

The initial excitement of seeing him was almost overwhelming. Sometimes, I felt as if I was going to vomit. After some time, my emotions settled, and I felt like he had never left. When it was time for his next deployment, I would become angry and short tempered. My father’s company, although sacred, was a difficult time for me emotionally.

They walked back into the room laughing. As if I knew what each of them felt, I sensed I could predict what emotions they would feel throughout this meeting, based on my many similar meetings with my father. As my body relaxed, I slumped into the soft chair, and got lost in the memories of my father, my childhood, and my love for both.

Pulling the blankets tightly over his head, the sounds of the screaming are muffled. The closed bedroom door and the television on the other side of the wall prevent the little boy from hearing details.

As much as he fears what he may hear, he yearns to know. Slowly, he pulls the blankets away from his face, in an attempt to hear what is on the other side of the wall. His face barely visible, his head still covered, he peers through the opening he has created in the blankets.

From the other side of the wall, a muffled scream can be heard.

The little boy covers his head.

A dull thud.

The little boy uncovers his face, rubbing the soft fabric of the blanket into the sides of his cheeks.

Two voices, almost inaudible, alternate screams.

Another dull
thud.

The little boy covers his face, buries his head into the pillow
, and cries.

As he lay in the only safe place he knows, the boy finds comfort in the shelter of the blankets that lay atop his bed. It is here that he can always find solace.

Comfort.

There, with is face covered,
he is safe.