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EVERY PART OF HER IS MINE
JACK
My hand shakes slightly as I insert the key into the lock and turn it. The lock clicks open, and I push the heavy oak door inward, gesturing for Quinn to enter first. As soon as we step inside, the familiar scent of home envelops me, and a wave of relief washes over me unexpectedly. However, my mind is still reeling from the traumatic events of the past few days. I glance at Quinn, her face worn and tired but determined, and worry lays heavy on my shoulders—uncertainty about how Quinn will feel coming home to the place where she experienced something so traumatic.
With the exception of Sienna, there is no comparison to the depth of love I feel for her, surpassing any other person or thing in my life.
Sienna is fast asleep in my arms and I head toward her room to tuck her in for the night.
“I want to hold her.” Quinn’s voice is tinged with guilt. The thing that amplifies every feeling I have for her most is that she loves my daughter just as much as I do. “I feel so bad that her schedule has been messed up, and she’s been away from you so much because of me.”
Of course, that’s what she’s focused on. I shake my head, wrapping my free arm around her. “Sienna and Grammy have loved spending extra time together, and she and Uncle Ezra had a blast. She’s fine, Quinn. Let her sleep.”
She bites her lip, uncertain, before finally nodding. Her shoulders are tense as she follows me through to the living room and sinks into the couch. I take Sienna upstairs, and when I return I take a moment to properly look at my love. Her face is pale, her eyes tired, but she is here.
She is safe.
“I was so fucking scared,” I admit, my voice breaking slightly. I sit beside her, pulling her body into mine.
As she leans into me, tears stream down her cheeks, leaving a trail of glistening tracks. I can feel the weight of her pent-up emotions as she finally lets go and allows herself to cry in my arms.
For several minutes, she clings to me, her body shaking with sobs as her tears soak into my shirt. As I hold her tightly, the heaviness of my own pain from this entire situation presses down on me. It’s nearly unbearable at times, but especially seeing her like this.
It's not that I mourn the loss of my best friend; in reality, he was never who I thought he was and his end was deserved. What hurts me is the realization that Quinn has endured so much in her life, only to have it all culminate to this. I did everything I could to protect her and do the right thing, but I couldn't stop this from happening. And now we both have to deal with the outcome.
When her breathing finally steadies, she sits up and wipes her tear-streaked cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt. "I love you," I whisper, brushing away the remaining tears with my thumb. My large hand cups her face as she kisses me softly, her lips still damp from crying. We are both tentative at first, but our longing for each other quickly takes over.
I have missed her so much; I need to be as close to her as humanly possible, need to feel she’s safe. She slept nearly constantly while she was in the hospital—which was needed for her recovery and I was thankful to just be there with her—but I wanted my best friend back through every second of it. And while I need to be gentle with her, I can't control the need I feel to be inside her right fucking now.
I slowly undress her, my hands gentle and cautious as they glide over her wounded body. A surge of anger pulsates through me as I get a closer look at her injuries, her skin a mosaic of deep cuts and dark bruises. It breaks my heart to see her hurt in this way, but there is also a twisted part of me that is furious that Stu was the one to leave these marks on her skin when it should have been me.
Every part of her is mine .
She belongs to me, and her body is mine to mark .
She deserves scars that remind her she is loved and adored, not ones that hold the memories they do, and I have every intention of changing that for her if and when she’s ready and willing to let me.
"I love you." Her warm lips press against mine again as I gently guide her naked body onto the couch, determined to worship every inch of her.
My fingertips dance lightly over her taut skin, tracing every curve and dip with the urge I have to break it barely in check. The softness of her flesh sparks a flame inside me.
My mouth travels down her neck, over her breasts, and along her stomach, until I reach my destination between her legs.
I gently spread her lips with my tongue, her pretty pink pussy already glistening with her own juices. “Mmm,” I moan against her clit, hoping the vibration sets her on edge a little. I want to erase every thought from her mind. “You missed me too.”
She covers her eyes with her forearm, her muscles tensing as I push her closer to the brink. Then she lets go, trembling in waves as I lick her through it.
“Was that too much?” I ask the question in between kisses as I work my way back up her body.
“Not enough.” She locks her legs around my waist and pulls me against her core. I’m still dressed, but that’s a quick fix.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I tell her, simultaneously whipping my shirt off and unbuttoning my pants.
“I don’t mind the pain if it’s coming from you.”
I pause my movements and release a whispered fuck .
She has no idea what she’s asking for.
I push myself inside of her, and she tightens around me. As I do, she asks, "Do you get off on the thought of me getting pleasure from the pain you cause?" The way her pussy is squeezing my cock tells me she gets off on it a little too.
“No.” I pump into her slowly. “The thought of carving my name into your skin does it for me, though,” I admit, and the look on her face spurs me on. I decide to test the waters even further. There’s nothing wrong with fantasizing even if she doesn’t actually want to act on it later.
I run my fingers over the cut near her shoulder. It’s deep, and it will scar something awful, unlike the laceration under her chin that didn’t even require a stitch. “Once you’re all healed up, can I break this skin again? Replace the scar with one of my own?”
She nods fervently and pulls my lips against hers, seemingly embarrassed to admit that she’d like that as much as I would.
We both need therapy, but in the meantime, I plan to fuck the ghosts from her head.
My body moves in a primal rhythm, thrusting into her with urgency and need. My fingers dance over her swollen clit, bringing her to the brink of pleasure again. The sound of our skin slapping together echoes through the room and I am consumed by the desire to fill her up, my movements becoming more urgent and intense. Nothing else exists except for the raw, carnal connection between us and the unexplainable love we feel for each other.
She gasps and arches her back, her nails digging into my skin, as I give her every inch of me over and over with relentless intensity.
With one final thrust, I groan as I spill into her, her tight pussy squeezing every last drop from my body as she shudders beneath me.
Our hearts pound in sync, our souls fusing together in the aftermath.
We lay tangled up, catching our breath and grateful to be together again. In this moment, I am overflowing with a peaceful certainty that everything will be okay, and our love for one another will only continue to grow and flourish beyond this single moment together. We will recover, and I am determined to do whatever it takes to walk with her through this process and make sure she emerges stronger than before.