CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
TARA
Capone pins my arms over my head, his fingers intertwining with mine as he settles between my legs. After he cleaned himself off, he delivered on his promise to give me another orgasm. It didn’t take long seeing as I was all riled up from watching him get off. It was the hottest thing I ever witnessed, and I found power in knowing that I drove him to lose control like that.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asks, his gaze searching mine.
My legs are tingling, and I’m exhausted, but there is nothing that’s going to stand in my way from taking what I want, especially when I don’t know when I’ll be able to do it again.
I inch forward, kissing him slowly.
“I’m fine. Don’t bail on me now.”
“I’m not bailing,” he argues. “I just want to make sure you tell me if it becomes too much.” He releases one of my hands and cups the side of my face. “You look tired.”
“Gee just what a girl wants to hear when she’s naked, and her legs are spread wide.”
“You know what I’m saying.” His fingers slowly trail down my cheek. “If you need to tap out, we’ll rest and try again later.”
As much as I’ve made it clear I don’t want him to treat me any differently than he would if I was not riddled with cancer, he doesn’t seem to get the point. I should be grateful that he’s so considerate, and a part of me is, but I know if we don’t do it now, we probably won’t.
I mask my discomfort by burying my face in the crook of his neck, and wind my legs around his waist. His heavy cock, fully sheathed, hangs between us, and as much as my body aches, I want more. That’s why I promise to let him know if it becomes too much.
His mouth finds mine, and he lowers his other hand, guiding the fat head of his cock to my opening.
“Take a deep breath for me, baby. It’s only going to hurt for a few minutes until you stretch around me.”
I grip his shoulders as he notches his cock inside me and do as I’m told, dragging in a deep breath and holding it while he slowly pushes himself deeper. He braces his hands on either side of my head, and lowers his gaze to where his cock slowly disappears inside of me.
“Fuck, Tara…breath.”
My mouth falls open on a gasp, and he feeds me another inch. It burns something awful, and I feel tears sting my eyes.
“Almost there,” he grinds out.
With every inch he gives me, my hips shift restlessly. Is it normal to feel this much? To be so entirely full, and still crave more?
Keeping one hand firm against the mattress, he hooks his other arm behind my knee and presses my leg against his hip. The angle gives him more room to maneuver, and this time when he hips rock forward, he doesn’t hold back. I cry out, my nails piercing his shoulders, as he bottoms out.
“That’s it, baby,” he praises. “You took it all. Every fucking inch.”
He raises his hand and cups his palm before spitting into it. Then he lowers his fingers to my clit. I’m so overly sensitive that I forget the pain and focus on the pleasure.
Fucking incredible.
My hips arch and something in him snaps. Suddenly, he takes hold of my legs, and spreads them wide, his hips bucking as he thrusts in and out of me, stretching me in the most carnal way.
I get lost in the sensation of it all. My orgasm starts to build. Every snap of his hips, all the filthy sounds our bodies make as they slap together…it all adds to the pleasure swirling in the pit of my stomach.
“Come for me, Tara. Let me see you fall apart. Let me fucking feel that pussy milk my cock for every drop.”
I throw my head back and sob his name, my release taking over my entire body. I’m so consumed by the feel of him, and the pleasure rocketing through my body that it takes me a minute to realize he’s coming too. He shouts my name, and fucks me harder, thrusting deeper as he fills the condom. Mesmerized by his facial expressions, and the way he loses control, all I can do is watch in awe.
He's so fucking beautiful when he let’s go, and he’s all mine.
I must’ve fallen asleep, because when I wake it’s dark outside, and there is no sign of Capone. For a moment I fear that I dreamt everything. Then I lift the throw blanket from my body and see all the marks Capone’s beard left behind.
“You’re awake.”
My head snaps at the sound of his voice, and I find him standing in the doorway of his bedroom, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else. Pushing off the door frame, he makes his way toward the air mattress.
“I called Holly and Maverick. Told them we were gonna spend the night here, and be back early in the morning,” he reveals, taking a seat next to me. His hand snakes out and he gently drags his knuckles down my cheek. “How do you feel?”
I turn my head, pressing a kiss to his hand. “I feel like a million bucks.” Meeting his gaze, I smile. “Sore, but in all the best ways possible.”
“I’m going to draw you a bath, but that wasn’t what I was asking, and you know it.”
Sighing, I pull his hand away from my face. I guess we’re done pretending I’m normal.
“I’m tired, Capone, but I don’t regret anything we did.” I stare at his handsome face, hating the way he looks so worried. “I needed it. If for no other reason than to feel like a normal woman.”
He nods, seeming to understand, then slaps his hands against his thighs and blows out a breath. “So how about that bath?”
“Sounds great.”
He stands and holds out his hands, helping me off the mattress, but as soon as my feet touch the floor, my knees threaten to buckle. Capone is quick to wrap his arms around my waist, and instead of falling backwards, I fall against his chest.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
“I’m fine,” I grind out, but my voice gives it away that I’m not. My legs feel as if someone is taking a knife through the back of them, cutting through the nerves.
“You’re not fucking fine,” Capone growls as he lifts me into his arms, and carries me into the bathroom. He sets me down on top of the vanity and disappears. A minute later her returns with his kutte draped over his forearm and a bottle of water. He pushes the water into my hands and reaches inside his pocket, pulling out a prescription bottle with my pain meds. After he expertly opens the bottle, he shakes two pills into my palm, and I knock them back.
“It was too much on your body,” he says, combing his fingers through his hair. He looks like he wants to punch something.
“Please don’t do that,” I murmur, forcing his gaze back to me. “I’m going to be laid up in the hospital for weeks. Maybe even months. I have no idea what my life is going to look like—I don’t know when I’ll be able to walk again, and sex is definitely off the table. Stop beating yourself up, Capone.”
He slicks his tongue over his teeth but remains quiet.
“Are you going to draw me that bath?”
That seems to snap him out of his trance, and he nods, turning to bathtub. With his back to me, I let the mask fall from my face, and silently will the pain meds to kick in. My eye catches sight of my reflection in the mirror, and gasp flies past my lips. My complexion is paler than usual, and my eyes have dark circles beneath them, but that’s the least of it. I lift my hand to my hair and gently push my fingers through it. When my fingers reach the ends, I glance down at my palm and stare hopelessly at the clump of hair. My stomach drops at the sight.
A million emotions run through me just as they did when I removed the helmet and first noticed I was losing hair. Sex was a good distraction. It took my mind off my situation and let me remain in the moment. But it doesn’t change a person’s fate.
Capone turns back to me, his eyes finding mine in the mirror. I lift my hand to show him, expecting him to once again tell me it’s only hair, but he doesn’t. Instead, he closes the difference between us, and wraps his arms around me from behind, kissing my shoulder. I realize then, he didn’t touch my hair once when we were having sex, and I wonder if that’s because he was afraid it would fall out.
“There’s probably clumps on the air mattress,” I say, flicking the hair onto the vanity. Turning my head, I lift my hand to his cheek. “I’m ready for that bath now.”
“Okay, princess.” He lifts me off the vanity and carries me to the bathtub, gently lowering me into the warm water. Then he strips himself of his sweats and climbs in behind me. His arms wrap around my small frame, and he pulls me against his chest, peppering my head with kisses.
“I love you, Tara,” he rasps.
I cover his hands with mine as a tear slips down my cheek.
“I love you too.”
We sit like that for a couple of minutes, and the pain in my legs starts to subside. Capone takes a washcloth, and soaps it up. As he washes my body with care, I think about the whirlwind life has been and everything that’s happened. Me and Mark breaking up, Capone reluctantly becoming my shadow and us going from enemies to friends…and now, well, lovers. My cancer diagnosis, and him offering to help preserve my chances of having a baby one day. If someone would’ve told me this was how my life would play out, I wouldn’t have believed them. I mean, of all the people in all the world, I never imagined it would be Capone who stands beside me and sees me through my darkest days.
But maybe that was always the plan. My soul knew I needed him. I wanted to find my twin flame, just like my mom found hers, and I think I have. I think in another life, Capone and I were together. I think the story was a little different—there was no cancer or crazy shootings. There was just us, and a beautiful life. We had our ups and downs, but our love was so strong it prevailed every time.
“Do you believe in twin flames?” I ask.
“I’m not familiar with the term,” he replies as he washes my back.
“A twin flame if when one person is deeply connected to another person. Some people believe that twin flames are dust from the same star, and no matter how many lives we live, our souls always come in search for their mate. Sometimes they find them, sometimes they don’t.”
“So like a soul mate?”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“I didn’t used to.”
That makes me smile. “But you do now?”
He moves my hair over my shoulder and runs the washcloth down my arm. “I interpret it a little differently than you, but yeah.”
“How do you interpret it?”
“Well, I have a love hate relationship with religion, especially lately. But my Pops, he’s a devote Catholic. You know the story of Adam and Eve, right?”
“Vaguely. Didn’t eat the forbidden fruit?” He chuckles slightly and I glance over my shoulder at him. “If this is the part where you tell me I’m the forbidden fruit?—”
He cuts me off, pressing his lips to mine.
“That’s not where I was going with it,” he assures me. “Although….” I slap his thigh, and he just winks at me. Then he goes on to tell the story of Adam and Eve. “Adam wasn’t created for Eve; she was created for him. She’s his missing rib. A man can search high and low, go through women like its sole purpose in life, but none of them will ever stick until one girl walks into his life and everything suddenly clicks into place. He might resist at first, but that’s just because life has done a number on him, and he’s lost his faith. Every part of his body still knows she’s his missing piece, and when he finds it… when he finds her… he’s whole.”
He smooths his hands down my arms, dropping his chin to rest on top of my shoulder.
“Do you think I’m your missing rib?”
“I don’t think, baby, I know.”