Page 11 of Tower (Post-Apocalyptic Fairy Tales #1)

A week later, Levi returns to our room earlier than normal because all he had today was a meeting with the Mayor.

It’s barely midafternoon when he’s knocking on the door.

I’ve been reading on the couch, but I jump up to let him in. I know it’s him because he calls through the door like normal, “It’s me, girl.”

“The meeting didn’t take long,” I say, moving out of the way to let him in.

“Nah, it usually doesn’t. The man is a pompous ass, but he knows his shit with administration.”

“That’s what Dad always said. That no one really likes him, but he can do all the stuff necessary for us to survive and the town to run better than anyone else.”

“That’s it exactly. You doin’ okay today?”

“Yeah. I’m feeling better. Sorry about?—”

“Don’t even start,” he interrupts in a grumpy mutter.

“Okay. But still. I’m better now. Do you have more you need to do this afternoon, or can you take it easy?”

“I got nothin’ else. But if you wanna be alone, I can?—”

“No!” Self-conscious about the abrupt declaration, I temper it as I add, “I’ve been alone plenty. I know it’s safer for me up here, and I know I asked for it a week or two ago, but being locked in a tower isn’t exactly… good times.”

We’re still standing near the door, facing each other.

His brows pull together in the way they do when he’s thinking something through.

“You don’t gotta stay up here all the time if you don’t want.

I don’t think it’s safe for you to just run around alone, but we can figure somethin’ out like we did for your mornin’ yoga. ”

“Really?”

“Sure. Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“I didn’t want to be a pain.”

He rolls his eyes at me as he heads to his chair. “You want somethin’, you gotta ask.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not a mind reader, you know.”

“I never thought you were.”

“So if there’s somethin’ you need, open your mouth and tell me.”

“I said okay!”

He’s slouching down in the chair like he normally does, toeing off his shoes, but he slants me a pointed look. “You mad at me now?”

“No, I’m not mad at you.”

“You sure? ’Cause I’m sensin’ some feisty vibes waftin’ my way from your direction.”

I gasp indignantly even though I know he’s teasing me. “I’m not feisty! Or mad! There are no vibes wafting your way of any kind.”

He snorts and closes his eyes, almost smiling as he mutters, “If you say so, girl.”

I really do try not to, but I’m hiding a smile as I pick up my book from the couch and return it to its spot on the side table.

When I glance over, Levi is peering at me through only one eye.

“What?” I ask him.

“No foot rub today?”

“Do you really think you deserve one after riling me up on purpose?”

“Course I don’t deserve one, but you been givin’ ’em to me anyway.”

The words are casual, but they hit me strangely. I study his face as I kneel at his feet in my normal position. His eyes are closed. He’s relaxed. But he said what he said.

I wonder if he genuinely believes he doesn’t deserve someone doing him a kindness.

“Kind of mean to tease me like that,” he says without opening his eyes. “My feet are right there, behavin’ themselves and not even smellin’ too bad today, and you ain’t even touchin’ ’em.”

I giggle at his dry tone. I can’t help it. Then I pull off his socks and get up to get the wet hand towel and lotion since I forgot I’ll need them.

I take my time with the foot massage, and I’m surprised that he doesn’t fall asleep like normal. He moans a few times—he usually does as he relaxes—until his breathing has slowed and deepened. His eyes stay closed, but he isn’t sleeping. I know the difference by now.

When I finally get through with his second foot, I pull my hands back and look up at his face.

His lids are heavy as he opens his eyes. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

It’s the first time he’s ever called me that. I’m not sure he’s even conscious of the word coming out, but it makes my heartbeat quicken with pleasure and surprise. “You’re welcome. Thank you .”

“For what? For sittin’ here like a lump while you treat me all nice?”

“No!” I wouldn’t have continued had this not been the second time in thirty minutes that he implied he didn’t deserve me being nice to him.

“You’ve been really good to me. I would have been dead—after being raped over and over again—if you hadn’t agreed to take me on.

And I know you’re getting something out of the deal, but it still feels like I’m getting more.

Plus you were really patient with me for a couple of weeks when you didn’t have to be. ”

He shifts in his chair. His mouth twists. “What the hell did you expect? I’m not a fuckin’ monster, you know.”

“I know you’re not. That’s my point. You’re not even just basically selfish like a lot of men would have been in your position. So I’m thanking you.”

“Fine,” he mumbles, glancing away from me for the first time. “I got it.”

I’m not sure what gets into me, but I’m hit with a surge of a warm sort of pleasure. All of it directed toward him. I’ve had a decent week after my breakdown, and I’m feeling better about everything, including Levi.

I lift myself higher on my knees so I can run my hands across his thighs over his trousers. “Are you going to get grumpy every single time I thank you?”

“Maybe.” There’s the smallest glint in his dark eyes. “You got a problem with that?”

“I just don’t think being thanked is reason enough to get grumpy.”

“You do know me, girl, don’tcha? Any reason is good enough for me to be grumpy.”

I giggle helplessly, exactly as he wants me to.

It’s then, only then, that I notice he’s getting hard. There’s a noticeable bulge at the front of his pants. Oddly thrilled by this realization, I keep rubbing his thighs, slowly moving closer to his groin as I do.

He groans and stares at me as I intentionally tilt my head down toward where his erection is trapped beneath the fabric of his trousers. He shifts his hips. “I guess you decided a little torture is on the menu for today.”

“Not torture.” I reach down to undo the button and zipper. “But something is on the menu for today.”

“You don’t gotta do that for me. I don’t want no pity blow job.”

I choke on a laugh and glance back up at him. “A pity blow job?”

“You know what I mean.” He’s turned on. No doubt about that. But he’s being serious right now. “You got no duty to do this.”

“I know I don’t. It’s not pity. And it’s not duty. It’s… because I want to make you feel good. Is that all right?”

There’s a pause, and I honestly don’t know what he’s going to say. He’s not a predictable man, and there’s a lot going on inside him that he never reveals to the world. “Yeah,” he finally says with a rough edge to his voice. “That’s all right.”

Relieved, I finish unfastening his pants and carefully pull them down with his underwear enough to retrieve his cock.

I’ve given blow jobs before. Not a ton but it’s not entirely new to me. But I’ve never really wanted to. It’s always been because my boyfriends wanted them, and it felt like a normal thing for a girlfriend to do. I always did my best, and my boyfriends never complained.

But I never wanted it.

Not like I want to do this for Levi right now.

He must be misinterpreting my hesitation because he says gruffly, “You can stop anytime, sweetheart.”

I smile up at him. “I don’t want to stop. But I’m not the world’s expert at this, so you might need to give me some tips.”

He huffs in amusement, but the laughter changes to a groan as I lean over and give the tip of his cock a hard suck. “Jesus Christ!” His hips come all the way up off the seat. “Give me a little warnin’, girl, or I’ll blow my whole load in two seconds.”

I’m shaking with silent laughter as I pull my head back and stroke him with my fingers. His words should have felt crude, but they don’t. I have no idea why.

I play with his shaft and his balls for a minute and then lower my face again. With a quick upward glance, I say, “This is your warning.”

He smiles. It’s a real, honest-to-God smile. “Got it.”

I take him in my mouth, adjusting both my stance and my cheeks before letting him slide out and trying again after better using my lips to cover my teeth. I set a steady rhythm of sucking, bobbing my head as I do, and thrills of excitement keep rising at every sign of his visceral response.

I can’t take him very deep. I’m afraid I’ll gag. But he doesn’t seem to care in the slightest. He’s holding my head in both his hands, helping to guide my speed and rhythm, and he’s muttering out the hottest things I’ve ever heard.

About how good I’m taking him down. How hard I’m sucking him. How I’m giving him exactly what he needs. How no one has ever made him feel as good as I am right now.

I’m flushed and damp with perspiration and hotly aroused when he falls out of rhythm. He gives me a heads-up, but I don’t let him pull out of my mouth. He comes hard and loud, and I swallow all of him down. He holds my head in place as he works through every last twitch of his release.

I’m not sure I’ve ever felt quite so proud of myself when I finally straighten up.

He’s totally wiped out. Limp and sprawled and deliciously sated. “Thank you, sweetheart. You totally blew my mind.”

“You’re welcome.” I stand up because it looks like he’s going to fall asleep any second.

I’m going to have to hide somewhere and rub myself off because my pussy is throbbing intensely.

Before I know to expect it, he grabs me and pulls me onto his lap. I’m startled and self-conscious, draped over his thighs like this. And I don’t even know why until he slides a hand under the fluttery skirt I’m wearing today.

“You got real hot from doin’ that to me, didn’t you?”

I whimper wordlessly.

“You really do like it dirty, don’t you? No soft, pretty romance for my girl. So now you’re gonna let me fuck you with my fingers, and you’re gonna like it real bad.”

He does exactly what he says. He fucks me fast and rough with his hand until I’m sobbing into his shirt with how good it feels.

And he’s entirely right.

I like it real bad.