Page 106 of Heavy

“Oh, shit. Ronan, it is. I promise.”

He tilts his head and tugs slightly on my braid. Without saying anything, I can see him going through a full spectrum of emotions. Ronan is a man that would quite literally kill someone for touching me, but would never do something without consent. Even the first time he spanked me, if I had told him no, I know he would have backed off.

“Alright,” he finally says. “I’ll keep doing it since you want that. I was careful not to wake you because I could see how tired you were. But don’t worry, I made sure you came.” As he leans in, I begin to sit up a little. My head tilting to meet him at eye level. “You make the most porn-star sounds, especially when you are in a deep sleep.”

My thighs quiver, and I begin to chew on my bottom lip.

“Do you want to stay asleep, or would you like me to wake you next time?” His finger tugs down on my oversized shirt, exposing the curve of my breast.

I whimper softly. “Both. Sometimes asleep, sometimes awake.” He looks down, likely checking out my tits but I don’t take my eyes off him. “Can I fuck you while you’re asleep?”

Who am I?!

When he tugs once more on my shirt, I lean forward slightly. His lips brush against mine, but he doesn’t apply pressure. “Whenever my dick’s hard, baby girl, you can have it.”

He pulls me closer, and as said appendage brushes against my stomach, hard as a rock, I release a breath that’s needy. The urge to raise my hand to release him and suck on his cock is so powerful, I nearly forget myself and his limits.

With his chuckle that dominates my insides, he flicks his tongue across my lips. “Yes, that means now too, my needy little slut.”

33

Calista

Thepastfourweekshave been a mixture of beautiful and challenging.

I’ve not heard from the Serrano’s since I blocked them. However, the daunting thought of them just showing up has had me turn the sensitivity up on the cameras. I told Ronan they wouldn’t come here, but because it’s been so quiet, I’ve started worrying.

That being said, I do feel safe with Ronan, and I know he’ll take care of me if they try anything. He got a gun, which is in a safe in my office—the guest bedroom.

Ken registered it to himself, since Ronan is a convicted felon. He said he would ‘plead the fifth’ if it was found by the police.

He’s funny, but not in that stand-up comic kind of way. His humor is dark, and sometimes I wish he wouldn’t say the things he does. Like when he makes comments about being locked up again, or dying. Asshole scares the fuck out of me when he talks like that.

I’ve got the lock code for the safe, but I’ve already told him I can’t fire a gun and don’t want to. He promised he’d always be here, so if anyone needed to fire it, he would do it to keep me safe.

Other than that, it’s been quiet, and we are learning each other. Him more than I. He’s trying to understandrelationships. It’s cute, especially since he’s eleven years older, and I’m the one with all the knowledge.

As for the renovations, the kitchen is nearly complete. The appliances should be installed next week. We ran into a minor issue with the structural integrity beneath the old cabinets, along with some piping issues.

I’m actually excited about shopping for the kitchen goodies: silverware, plates, and all that stuff. I didn’t think Ronan would care, but his protectiveness is to the point where some might find it annoying—he flat-out demanded I take him. It makes me feel like a princess, and he’s my bodyguard.

Though, he definitely doesnottreat me like royalty, which is fine.

That being said, even with all his ‘so called’ problems, he has two of the most amazing traits that most men struggle with without having been in prison: communication and patience.

I'm happy with who he is with me. When things get slightly heated between us, we fuck it out like wild animals. That’s our form of stitches. After he’s filled me with his cum and I’ve become a sloppy mess, we both find our peace and talk about whatever happened.

That isn’t the case right now, and sex isn’t only for us to resolve our problems. Ilovefucking this man, but more than that, sucking his dick.

I’m currently hilt deep, choking on him in the kitchen, drool and pre-cum dripping down my chin and neck. It isn’t just the way he tastes to me, but how he reacts that has my pussy dripping down my bare thighs. He moans and groans like a man obsessed. I’ve even had him begging me, which I now understand his love for it.

“That’s it,fuuuck,baby girl.” He grips my head and tears me back, just for me to suck in a breath before bringing me right back. The head of his cock beats against the back of my throat, and I whimper at how intense he is.

He’s brutal because he knows I can take it and want it. I want to be left bruised and sore because of him. I’m happy that over the course of our time together, he has learned how to take care of me afterward. Taking me to shower, icepacks on my stomach, tea for my throat—it’s all a fever dream. For a man that doesn’t do romance, he sure as shit wants to learn.

I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love.

As I grip tightly on a rag for support not to grab ontohim, he thrusts his hips back and forth. He enjoys making a mess of everything we do, and I never want to be clean again if it means this forever.