Durability (The LockDown Series Book 3) (30 page)

Her lip quivers at me, her eyes suddenly beginning to twinkle in the dull hallway lights. “I said; Do. You. Understand. Me?” I separate each word, allowing my message to be put across. I will make her see that she is everything to me. I will make her understand there isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for her.

“Abigail?” I raise my eyebrow as her body trembles against me, my body pushing her into the wall. With her legs wrapped around my waist and my hands pinning her wrists beside her body, my cock stirs to life, stiffening further by the second. I can feel the scorching heat of her sex surrounding me through her shorts, smouldering me with her arousal. I need her, as bad as it is right now, I need her to know how much I need her. How her desire for me i
s threatening to undo me, to make me lose control and spill my load inside my jeans.

“Yes Sir.” Her teeth sink harshly down into her lip, her head nodding slowly up and down. She gazes at my lips, now licking her sore lip so beautifully, I want to taste her.

“Good girl. Now let me love you.” I pre-warn her before dipping my head down and caressing her tender lip gently. I lick at the redness before pressing my own lips to hers. Our tongues dual with one another, strong flicks mixed with slow mating. I need her and I need her now.

“I love you, Mrs Lock,” I tell her, kissing the slender column of her throat, nipping at her ear before sucking possessively at her neck. I am a complete mash up of tender, loving and dominant pants-busting possessiveness. I want to consume her completely. My mark is laid upon her perfect flesh and I can't help but admire it, knowing that for the next few days she will
see the bruise and be reminded of who loves her and owns her.

“I love you too, Leighton. So much,” she replies, struggling to pull a hand free from my grip. I am struggling at whether to continue controlling her or to give in and let her indulge herself. I know in the long run, dominating her always helps her, but right now, I need her to be free. I release the struggling arm and place my hand above her head, leaning further into her. My hips gyrate forwards, seeking the warm wetness. Her shorts, once pink, are now a dark scarlet-pink from her arousal and it makes my dick seep with excitement. The scent of her arousal is intoxicating around me and I can’t help the growl that releases from within my throat.

“Master's happy.” Abigail laughs, slipping her tiny hand between us and gripping at my cock, stroking me torturously, slowly. I can sense she wants and needs more and her desire to continue is overwhelming.

“Master's fucking horny and needs to fuck his wife’s beautiful pussy before he explodes inside of his expensive trousers. Now, this can either go one of two ways. I can strip you from those tiny shorts right now and fuck you against this wall, or I can take you to bed and slip inside your tight warmth and make love to you.” I look at her, analysing everything about her. The way her eyes widen at my words, her breath accelerating, her pulse hammering beneath my lips.

“Both. Fuck me here, hard and rough, make me scream and then take me to our bed and make my body come alive. I feel magic when I’m with you, Leighton. Like somebody has sprinkled fairy dust over me and brought me to life. Every time you’re inside of me and on me I feel as though I have been brought back to life all over again, that I am able to live and breathe with you.” Her words swell my heart, and my erection.

I want to be inside of her, making everything she said a reality. I don’t want a rough fuck, I want to make love to her, but what my wife wants she gets. I place my hand between us, with hers, and undo her shorts. She unbuttons my trousers and slips them over my arse and down my thighs.. I stand her up so I can pull her shorts down. When they drop to the floor, I lift her again, waiting with baited breath as she wraps her delicious thighs around me and squeezes me to her. My bare erection presses between the seams of her lips, slipping through her wet folds to her entrance.

“Fuck me, baby.” She moans in my ear, biting hard on my shoulder. “I want to feel you inside my soul.” I grasp my erection and guide myself inside of her vice-like heat. Velvet has nothing on the silkiness of her pussy and I indulge in the feel of her wrapped tightly around my shaft. “Shit. So big.” Her hands grab onto my biceps as I push fully inside of her. Her nails dig into my skin, piercing it ever so slightly, but the tingle it causes me is unexpected. I never liked pain before, but Marcus has changed me, made me realise it doesn’t make me weak. My body is now heightened by her every touch, her every grip and drag. Scoring my muscles with her nails I shiver, my cock responding just the same. I can already feel the swelling of my cock inside of her and hope to God she is close.

“I'm gonna cum soon, baby. I can't hold it in,” I warn her, slamming in and out of her perfectness. The wetness is incredible, leaking around me and onto my balls. The slapping of our meeting flesh echoes around us, bouncing from wall to wall before attacking me slap bang in my balls.

“Me too. Together, Leighton, always together.” She is right too, everything, from this point on, would be together.

“Argghhh.” I moan as the volcanic-like eruption occurs in my groin, sizzling through me and out the tip of my cock. I can feel her pussy contracting around me, spasming with her own orgasm.

“Leighton, oh Leighton. Baby,” she cries, her nails now gripping so hard it causes blood to seep form my skin, with the intensity of her climax.

I rest my forehead to hers when I am spent, breathing in her potent scent. My lips gently kiss her forehead, her eyes, her nose and cheeks and then finally her lips, so plump and pink.

“I love you; never forget what you do to me, Abigail. I will forever spend my life proving how much I love and cherish your presence. I was simply an empty vessel before I met you, but now I am alive and I'm happy. Thank you for loving me and showing me that there is a chance in this world and even someone as fucked up as me can find it, with the most incredible person alive.”

“I love you too, Leighton. Just always need me, always want me and I’ll be happy,” she replies, returning my kiss to her soft lips.

“I will always want you, Angel, always and forever. As for needing you, I wouldn’t be able to breathe or survive without you, so I definitely need you.” She smiles at my answer, seemingly pleased. We kiss once more, deep and passionate, before separating and walking through the house. She remains around my waist as I take the stairs and halls to our room.

Opening the door I place her on the bed gently, my body atop hers. I slowly slide inside of her again, my erection already returned. “Now, baby, we make love,” I tell her, relishing in the groan from her lips as I stretch her sopping wet walls.

“Now, we make love, Leighton,” she replies, copying my words.

I awake, the window is open letting in a pleasant summer breeze from outside. The bed is empty, the sheets crumpled and mussed beside me. I stroke my fingertips over the vacant spot, remembering the way my body had been brought back to life again, last night. His touch, everything he does to me, completes me, makes me realise how important I am to him. I will spend every waking hour and every sleeping minute, knowing how much we need each other. He is my life, the reason I take my next breath. I love him more than life itself.

I swing my legs from the bed, rubbing my hands over my face and through my tangled hair, knotted from our intense lovemaking. I brush my fingertips over the tender spot of my neck, bruised from Leighton’s pleasure-filled kisses. He was like a man possessed last night, spending hour after hour on me, proving to me how crazy I drive him.

I relieve myself and brush my teeth, relishing in the freshness the mint brings to my mouth. I brush the tangles from my hair the best I can, securing it in a band out of my face.

As I walk from the room, my naked body now covered in a silk dressing gown, I can hear the boys already downstairs, talking and laughing. The noise is loud and somewhat overbearing and I know they are just trying to relax before the storm approaching, but I can't help but be a little nervous. “Good morning, baby,” Leighton speaks as he sees me, making his way over to me.

“Morning,” I reply, kissing him gently before making my way over to the coffee pot to pour some. I take my first sip and sigh in relief. “I'm going to make some breakfast, you boys eaten?” I ask, looking to all of Leighton’s men, seated around the island or on the worktop counters. Eight men, litter my kitchen, including my husband, already dressed in a suit with his coffee in hand.

“I have, but I could definitely eat some of your pancakes, sweetheart,” Antonio pipes up, licking his lips hungrily. That look was once for me, but I now know it’s only for my food. He is so in love with Georgia there is no way he will ever stray and return to his old man-whore days.

“Sure thing, I’ll whip up a batch. You boys are going to need all the strength you can get,” I say, collecting the ingredients I need. With eggs cracked, milk, water and flour added, I whisk it roughly, waiting for the mixture to blend perfectly.

“Strength?” Ant questions, with a quizzical eyebrow raised. “Oh sweetheart, I need no strength, only a gun.” He chuckles manically and it makes my spine straighten. I hate that my family, these wonderful men do what they do for a living. Even my relaxed and caring best friend, Thomas, is a violent killing machine. I hate that the world has done this to them and that I have to now endure the torture of all of them entering a battlefield with no possible foreseen outcome. I don’t know what will happen, I only pray all of them came out alive. I can’t bear to lose any of them.

“Ok. I'm sorry for insinuating you can't handle yourself, oh great magnificent strong one.” I mockingly bow to him, laughing.

“That’s it,” Ant says, coming at me. I hold the spatula up, trying to block his attack as his fingers find my ticklish spot and kill me. They dig in, making me scream and tears fall from my eyes. I eventually wriggle my way from him, dropping my spatula and run to Leighton’s open arms.

“I’ll save you baby,” he whispers to me as Antonio laughs at my demise. “I’ll always save you.” I look to him and smile, kissing his pouted lips. I look to Antonio and poke my tongue out.

“You’ll never get me with Leighton around. You big poop head.” Antonio bursts out laughing at me, holding his stomach. The rest of the men soon join in, including my husband.

“You’ve clearly been around the kids too much, sweetheart. I think you need to upgrade your vocabulary a little. Don't worry, I know a shit fucking load, if you need some education.” Antonio continues tormenting me. I huff, sulking back into Leighton’s chest.

“Now, wench, make me pancakes,” he orders me, handing over the spatula I had dropped after his tickle assassination. “Come on, Ab. Don't be like that, I was only joking. I didn’t mean to damage your pride, Princess.” He comes to me, hugging me strongly even as I reject him. “Cuddle me back or I will tickle you again, baby girl.” I give up, wrapping my arms around his enormous body, knowing he is playing around but feeling a little touchy this morning.

“I'm sorry, okay. Please don't be mad,” he whispers in my ear, kissing my head.

I look up to him and smile. “I'm not mad, Ant. I'm just a little off this morning. Just ignore me.” He looks at me, studying my face, before placing a quick kiss to my cheek.

“It’s going to be okay, you know that right? There is no way, in this life or the next that any of us would allow you, the women or the children in this family to be hurt. We would all lay down our lives before we let somebody near any of you.”

I hear all of the men around us agreeing, trying to calm my nerves.

“That’s just it, hun. I don't want any of you getting hurt or worse, killed, for me. I can't bear the thought of losing any of you. It gutted me when you were hurt last time, Ant. I can't even think of living this life without one of you by my side,” I explain, tears filling my eyes. It seems as though my tears have been an endless flow since yesterday and I hate it. I am strong, I have brought myself, with the help of my family, from the pits of hell and to the strong independent woman and mother I am now. This setback has just dragged me back down, with no confidence.

“Right, let me get the pancakes done,” I say, pulling away abruptly. I turn the pan on, heating the oil in it before pouring some mixture in. I'm lost in myself, drawing back into the cocoon that can protect me. I need to find the strength again, the strength to fight and defend what is mine.

“First one’s done,” I shout, slipping the pancake onto a plate and sliding it onto the counter top. I spend twenty minutes, cooking cake after cake, without any acknowledgment to those around me. My heart is hurting and my spirit shattering as the minutes close in. I know that today, at some point, these beautiful and strong men will leave this house in search of the end of my nightmares. I can’t stop the way my heart rate soars at the thought of them being out there and in danger.

I sit around, not knowing what to do to myself, whilst my family plans this battle. I hear of their torturous ways, the violence they plan to exhume on the opponent. I hear of the conniving and well-formed strategies and I can't make ends meet. Everything is a blur and I don’t know what to do to make it all seem normal. There is no beginning, middle or end to this day, everything is just blending as one big cluster-fuck of heartbreak and I cannot concentrate.