Page 33

Rhodes---Roommates

Amelia has been home for a few weeks, and by this point, we have a routine. My mornings are spent making her breakfast and coffee, afternoons at the gun range working, and then I come home to her.

Home.

Amelia is my home, and her house now feels like mine. I have returned a few times to my apartment, swapping out clothes and to grab a couple items for work, but other than that? My world revolves around the woman currently staring intently at the book on her lap. One thing I’ve learned about Amelia while I help her recover? She is a voracious reader. I don’t know how many books she has devoured, but watching her read is one of the last true wonders of this life. She flips the page of the book nestled in her lap. Her lush mane is barely contained in her messy bun, falling over her shoulder, and Amelia pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth.

“What are you reading?” I ask as I walk into her living room, just having arrived after working most of the day. I drop my bags next to her shoes, and Amelia glances up. A smile breaks across her face, and she gently closes the book.

“Nothing important. I want to be reading a status report on Medina, but I apparently don’t control the entire universe.” Her eyes roll as I stifle a chuckle. Another thing I’ve learned about Amelia? She doesn’t sit well. Yes, she has therapy, and while that is going as well as we could have dreamed, it isn’t fast enough. I have caught her crying when she thinks I’m not near, and I know it is killing her to simply rest.

I sit beside her, knocking my shoulder against hers, before I tug her into me. Her injuries are starting to heal, and Amelia no longer requires a crutch to walk around. Granted, she is slower than she’d like, but we are taking the small wins where we can.

“How are things in the shadows?” Amelia lays her head on my shoulder, and I notice she’s begun playing with the hem of the blanket draped over her legs.

“They’re fine. Duncan says that there hasn’t been a word from Medina. That my men are, quote, ‘doing their jobs’. So, I guess they’re fine. I don’t know.”

“You have systems in place, kochanie . I’m sure that if you were needed, Duncan would let you know.” A heavy sigh falls from her, and I pause, waiting for her to explain.

“I can have all the systems in place. I can have the most loyal men at my beck and call. It is never enough. There will always be someone trying to rip the rug from under me. I have to be a visible presence.” She swallows hard before continuing, “I have not taken a vacation since coming into power. I have never sat back and relaxed.”

“Never? What about when you were little?”

“Papa would take me on trips, but they were always for business, and I was under guard. I honestly don’t remember if we ever went on a family vacation. So, the work ethic is ingrained into my fiber of being, I guess.”

I sit, letting her words soak in. This woman has never taken a day for herself. I want to take her to the lake for a few days once she’s fully recovered. I need to give her a few days to forget she’s Amelia Conte, letting her be just a human being, letting her be mine .

“Enough about me. How was work today? You’re home a bit later than normal, Rhodes.”

“It was fine. Busy, but fine.” I grab her hand in mine, intertwining our fingers. “I got wrapped up in some of the administrative things and lost track of time. Forgive me? I popped by that little Thai place you love as an apology.”

I feel her shake her head before burrowing deeper into my side. “There is nothing to forgive, Ro.” Amelia peers up at me, the light she’d lost while hospitalized has now returned to her face. She pushes off my body and waits for me to stand before making the grabby hands she’s taken to using when she wants off the couch.

Relying on other people is hard for her, and Amelia has been working on asking for help, even if she feels silly. Her grabby hands are a way of doing that. I chuckle and pull her body to mine, letting her linger there as I run calloused fingertips along her cheekbone. It is a reverent gesture, one worthy of my goddess, of my kochanie .

Her tongue darts out, wetting her pink lips, and I surge forward to capture it. I weave my hands through her hair, keeping her face right where I want it. I pull back from her mouth, nipping at the flesh before swallowing hard. Amelia’s eyes are wild, unbridled to the point of madness. I search them quickly and finding not an ounce of hesitation, I give her one gentle kiss—a conservative peck on her lips.

And then I consume her.

I ravage her mouth, nipping again at the swollen flesh and licking at the seam of her lips, demanding her submission. I tighten my hands in her hair, slightly pulling her head further back and exposing the front of her neck. I rip my mouth from hers and trail my teeth down the skin there. Soft bites, washed away by my tongue, and I hear her gasp. I run my nose back up to her face and plunge my tongue into her mouth. One hand leaves her hair to rest on her jaw, keeping her mouth as it is - open, willing, mine. My thumb is at the corner of her lip, anchoring it wide.

Amelia whimpers, and I swallow it. Her hands roam my chest, the tips of her nails eliciting goosebumps along my body. Her hands reach under my shirt, skating along the hardened planes of my abdomen. The pads of her fingertips graze my nipples as I deepen our kiss.

She is a goddess of the highest order.

She breaks the kiss first, her hair now tousled and her breathing ragged. Amelia looks utterly fucked, and I haven’t even removed a lick of clothing. Her hands travel back down, resting on the buckle of my belt. The eyes of my siren flick up, meeting mine before a mischievous grin paints itself on her face. I feel her wrap those delicate fingers around the buckle before she starts to unfasten it. A hand dips below the fabric of my boxer briefs, and she grips my cock in her hand, running its length as her other hand struggles to remove my pants.

There is a voice in my head telling me that it is too soon, that she hasn’t healed enough for this. But I also know that the last thing Amelia wants is to be seen as weak. To stop her is to validate that thought.

I remove her hand and drop my pants, tugging my throbbing cock roughly. I pull up, rotating my hand around the crown, watching the way her chest heaves, gaze trailing down my body before stopping on my scars. I let her look. I have nothing to hide, and I can’t help the way my body bears my trauma.

“Do you want this cock, baby?”

There are questions dancing in her eyes, but nothing compares to the way her gaze burns . I take one step toward her, and she stays rooted in place.

“I asked you a question, Amelia.” I give another tug and drop my hand. I want Amelia Conte on her knees. Her mouth wrapped around my cock, taking what I give her. I need her mouth stretched around me, her whimpers mixing with the gags from swallowing me down like the good girl she is. The heat in her eyes tells me that she wants this. She needs it. Submitting to me right now means proving she isn’t broken, means reminding her head that her body remembers.

“Yes.”

I reach around her, grabbing a cushion off the couch and placing it at my feet. She may be healing well but I will not have her undo all her progress. I straighten and tilt my head toward the floor. “Kneel.”

She sinks to her knees, using my hands as support before resting on her heels. Amelia Conte waits for my instruction. Fuck. Amelia keeps her eyes downcast, her curves trembling with anticipation.

Right now, she isn’t the leader of the Mafia.

She exists solely to be a good girl. To be my good girl.

“Eyes, kochanie .” She peers up at me, desire ablaze in her eyes. I rub the tip of my cock along her lips, and Amelia parts her lips. “Such a good girl. You will not take more than I give you, understood? I am in control, not you.” I grab her bun and yank her head back to force those eyes to stay locked with mine. “You will do as I ask, yes?”

“Yes, Rhodes.”

It falls like a whisper, the breathiness of her voice confirming everything I’ve known. Amelia is submissive when it comes to this, to us.

“Stick your tongue out. More. Show me you want it, Amelia.” I take my thumb, pushing the muscle down, and despite her desire to suck my thumb, she stays still. I let it sit there, saliva pooling before dripping from the corner of her mouth. “Suck.” Her lips wrap around my thumb, and she goes to work, licking and sucking. There is no slowing in her movements, and I feel her hands move to the back of my thighs to give her leverage. Amelia Conte is proving to be quite a good girl.

I want to fuck her mouth. Her cunt. Her ass.

I pull my thumb from her and replace it with my cock. I let the weight of it rest on her tongue, and her saliva runs down her lips.

“Close your lips around me.” She starts to suck, and I grasp her chin firmly. “Did I say suck, kochanie ?” She shakes her head, holding me in her warm, wet mouth. “That’s right. I didn’t. Now, are you going to be good for me?”

She blinks one slow blink, and I take that as her answer.

“I am going to fuck this mouth, Amelia. You will take it like the good fucking girl you are.” I give a gentle thrust, and she moans. “If it gets to be too much, tap my leg, baby. I will not have you hurting yourself simply to prove a point, understood?”

She mumbles something around my cock, the vibration from her nearly sending me over the edge. I thrust into her, forcing her to take me deeper. I hit the back of her throat and she gags as I pull her off me.

“You okay, baby?”

“I didn’t tap your thigh, Rhodes.”

Brat. I move her face back to my pelvis and slam into her, pistoning myself until my balls tighten, and I feel the bliss crawl up my spine.

Thrust.

“Are you going to swallow me down like my good girl?”

Thrust.

“That’s what you are.”

Thrust.

She moans and shifts on the cushion. I see one of her hands sneak from my thigh, making its way to the paradise between her legs. My girl is horny. Her hand dips under the oversized t-shirt she’s wearing, and her hips rock.

“Spread those legs. Let your aching cunt feel your fingers.” Her ministrations stutter as her finger glides along her sex. “Are you wet? Does your pussy love it when I have you on your knees?”

I thrust again, keeping my grip on her hair and pushing her nose flush to my body. Her throat spasms around me, and it feels like heaven.

“Give that pretty pussy a finger, baby. Nice and slow. Deeper.” I release her, and she catches her breath and rocks against her hand. “Add another, kochanie .” Amelia does as she is told, her head falling back in pleasure. “One more, Amelia. Stretch your cunt the way she likes.”

I fist my cock as she plants her pussy on that hand fingering her sex, hips widening so she can angle deeper. “Stop.” A loud whimper comes from her, and I know I’ve left her needy—so, so needy. “I am going to come down this throat. When you have swallowed, you are going to lay back and let me feast.”

I piston into her mouth one last time, my hips snapping, and I feel the wetness from her on my thigh. Gods.

One snap, then two more before I am erupting down her throat. She sucks, swallowing me as if only my cum can quench her thirst. I dive down, kissing her, tasting the way we mingle in her mouth. Heaven. I pull from her and grip her shoulders. I lay her down, nestling my shoulders between her legs and pulling her underwear to the right. She tenses ever so slightly, and I decide to distract her.

I run my nose up her inner thigh, one leg, and then the other. Her whimpers are now the loudest thing in the room. I turn my attention to the altar before me. Her pussy is slick, swollen, and mine. I pin her hips down and tease her with a slow lick of my tongue, swirling around her clit before pulling the bud into my mouth. I feel her hips buck before she grinds against my mouth.

“Rhodes,” she mewls.

I reach around her left thigh and spread her lips with my thumb and index finger. Flattening my tongue, I firmly taste her, the saltiness from her cunt is perfection. My gaze travels up her body. and I smirk, grabbing her hand and bringing it down to me.

“Hold these for me, kochanie .” I place her fingers on the gusset of her panties and pull them further to the side. I want her to actively participate in her pleasure. Her eyes ignite as I dip my head, pulling her sensitive bud back between my lips, running the tip of my tongue around it.

“Fuck.” The word falls on an exhale, the single syllable drawn out.

I take my right hand and run the tip of my middle finger around the rim of her needy sex, teasing and toying with Amelia until her head pops up.

“Problem, pretty girl?” I know what her problem is, but I want her to tell me, to use her words and demand what she wants.

“Rhodes. Please.” Her neck strains at being in that position. I know that if I play with her too much longer, I might cause her to be in pain, to push her body past its current limitations.

“Lay back down, Amelia.” There is dominance in my tone, and I darken my stare. If she wants to be a brat, I’ll play. It will end with her being denied orgasms, but that doesn’t bother me any.

A beat passes, and she lays back down. Good girl. I plunge two fingers into her, her pussy pulling them in, locking my touch in a death grip. I hook them, pushing against her G-spot. A moan comes from above my head, and I gently rock my hand, my fingers brushing that sweet spot inside Amelia. I watch her head shake back and forth as her hips firmly grind down onto my hand. Her chest is heaving. the hand not holding her panties is tracing her curves.

She is a masterpiece carved from the broken pieces of my soul.

“I want you to drown me, Amelia Conte. I want you to shatter above me, covering me until I am nothing more than an unworthy witness.”

I push my left hand down on her pelvis and steady my right, ensuring all she feels in this moment is me, my hands, my tongue.

“You are my good girl, kochanie . Now, come like the goddess you are.”

A broad stroke of my tongue against her pink flesh, a nip of her clit, and a caress against her G-spot have her back arching.

The shattering of Amelia Conte is one that will never cease to amaze me. I am a man obsessed. She explodes, drenching me with her orgasm, and I keep massaging her. I want another from her.

“Rhodes, I can’t.”

“You will, pretty girl. I don’t settle for anything less than what you deserve.”

I quicken my fingers, sliding them in and out at a punishing pace. Her hips flex, and she comes once more, softer this time but just as breathtaking.

I take my shirt from the floor and clean her up as best I can, reaching for her hands once I am finished. We both sit against the couch, and her head falls to my shoulders. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, mindful of her still-healing injuries, and pull her into me. She nestles into me, and I smile. “How do you feel, Amelia?” There is something murmured into my chest, and I pull her head back slightly, my eyebrow cocked in a silent request. She sighs contentedly.

“I feel good. Slightly gooey but so cozy. You are so comfy, Ro.” Her voice tapers off, and I know I need to move us so she can fall asleep. The high from her orgasm is starting to seep into her bones. I know it isn’t long before she drops into that state of bliss and wants to snuggle.

I need to get her into the bath, into a new set of clothes, and into bed. I stand, picking her up and cradling her to my bare chest. Her hand runs along my chest, finding the tattoo on my left pectoral. It is my callsign insignia, the delicate touch of her hand is a contrast to the memory attached to the ink buried in my skin. She’s seen it before in our video chats but this is the first time Amelia has been able to admire it in person.

Her face lifts, a question dancing in her heavily lidded eyes, and I give her a kiss on her forehead.

“Let’s get you in the bath, kochanie . Perhaps a snuggle or two after?” She hums in response, and I know we’ll both be sleeping soundly tonight.