Revive Me: Part Three (New Haven #2)

by J.L. Seegars

“I’m scared, princess,” he whispers into my hair, the sound muffled in the cloud of my curls. “He’s a monster who has laid waste to my dreams more than once. Everything good I’ve ever had in my life, he’s taken from me. And now that we’re here—” He pauses, and I feel him swallow hard, fighting back the emotion working its way up his throat. “I have more to lose than I ever have before. I have you again. I have a family again. I don’t want to lose this.”

“You won’t,” I whisper back, knowing there’s something sacred in the quiet of his confession, in the promise I’m making him. “You know the difference between this time and all the other times you’ve gone up against your father?”

“You’re not doing it alone. You’ve never gone up against him with me by your side, and I don’t lose, Chris.” I throw my leg over his, wrapping myself around him tight. “I’m a fucking winner, baby, which means you are too.”

And while I’m thankful that we have our people, our family, I’m always happiest when it’s just me and her. When I get to share in her thoughtful silence. When I get to touch her bare skin with palms lined with reverence and fingers made to worship. When I get to kiss her slow and deep and take it as far as she wants it to go because there’s nothing and no one around to stop us.

Ugh yes!

My suspicion is proven right when she cuddles closer to me instead of getting up. Her back pressed to my front. Wild curls tickling my nose while the magnificent curve of her naked ass teases my dick. We’ve already gone four rounds this morning, but I could go another. I could go forever with her.

Damn 4 rounds already?????? Sheesh

“It’s never just holding with you, though, Christopher. I can literally feel you getting hard.” She’s right. The movement from her stretching caused a stirring in my groin, encouraging my well-spent and truly exhausted dick to wake up for another round.

“I can’t help it, princess. If you’re naked and within five feet of me, then I’m going to get hard. I can control it, though.”

Mallory whimpers, pumping her hips to match the slow, desperate tempo of my strokes. “Harder, Chris, please.” I honor her request without a second thought, without any consideration for my sanity or the well-being of my balls, which are now slapping against her ass. The obscene sound of repeated collisions of skin fills our bedroom while Mallory’s walls ripple around me.

“Hey,” she twists around in my arms so we’re face to face, and amber eyes filled with compassion and love study my features. “It’s going to be okay. Remember, we’re in this together.”

“Together,” I repeat, relishing the word, letting it sit on my tongue and soak into my skin. Pulling her in close, I drop a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. “Thank you for being my partner, princess.”

“Hey,” Mal murmurs softly, one of her hands coming up to cradle my cheek. “Don’t do that. Don’t be ashamed of the mistakes you’ve made because, for better or worse, they got us here. And here is good, it’s so fucking good, Chris, and we get to have it forever. We get to take care of each other for forever.”

The emphasis she places on ‘each other’ makes me smile and reminds me that love is a two-way street, a constant ebb and flow of energy and investment. Repeated instances of one person’s weaknesses coinciding with the other’s strengths. That’s what true partnership is, and I’m glad that out of all the things Mallory is, all the things she could be, my partner is one of them.

“I love you,” I say, unwilling to let her leave the sanctuary of our bed without making it clear. “And I love you.”

Although one of my favorite pass times is watching her wander around her closet in nothing but a towel and bare feet, I force myself to head to the bathroom and hit the shower. When I get out, she’s already left the room, so I make short work of moisturizing and getting dressed and head downstairs to find her.

This is the first time seeing an author mention a man moisturizing and lotioning up lol love it!

It feels odd, claiming ownership of any part of this sordid tale, especially when most of it isn’t centered around me, but there’s no other way to phrase it that would make sense. Ultimately, this story is mine. Margaret left it to me, and my mother left it to her. I owe it to both of them to see it through.

Mallory is quiet too, but her presence is loud. Her support screams at me, cheering me on, giving me strength, reminding me over and over again that I’m not alone. In this struggle. In this fight. In this life.

“Oh, I’m definitely writing the story.” She glances between Mallory and me, steely determination etching itself into the lines of her face. “But I’m also going to take my time and research your father before I take this to my editor. So it would really help if you could point me in the direction of anyone who could corroborate this story, someone who could help me round out the details of who your mom was, who your father is, and how things ended up like this.”

“Thank you for trusting me with this.” Michelle covers my shaking hand with her steady one while Mal settles a comforting palm on my shoulder. “I promise I’ll take care of your mother’s memory. We’ll get her the justice she deserves.”

My heart goes all warm and fuzzy, and tendrils of excitement curl around my lungs because we’re going on our first real vacation since we got back together, and this one feels so different from the ones we’ve taken before. Because unlike when we went to Disney in college, neither of us is pretending or holding back our feelings. And unlike when we took that trip to the mountains after Eric died, there’s no clock on us, no deadline to adhere to, no ending hovering over us.

In mere seconds, his gaze goes from worried and distracted to focused and full of heat. He licks his lips, his tongue a quick, teasing flash of pink that makes my thighs clench before he gives me a sneaky smile. “I could bore you with the details of our itinerary, princess, but you look like you’d much rather be indoctrinated into the Mile High club.”

Perionté!

of his seat, extending his hand to me. And because I’m helpless when it comes to him, his charming smile, and heated gaze, I take it, allowing him to pull me to my feet, blushing as I glance over my shoulder and see Rena watching us make our way to the bedroom at the very back of the hall.

My pulse drops between my thighs, every beat of my heart a painful throb in my clit. I bite my lip. “Yes.”

Chris’ free hand goes to my ass, and he grabs a handful of my flesh, fingertips digging into my skin as he continues his ministrations. I know he’s not going to stop until he makes me come. Ever since that first time in Mama’s living room, he’s been like a man possessed, obsessed with perfecting the art of pleasing me this way.

An unraveling that starts slow and then picks up the pace so that you’re somehow surprised by the sudden onset of pleasure you expected all along. That’s how I come the first time, and as far as inductions go, it’s not a bad one, but the second and third times are even better because both times, Chris is right there with me, the throbbing of his dick matching the pulsing of my walls. The melody of his racing heart, perfectly in tune with my own. Every ounce of his satisfaction, mingling with mine, slipping down my thighs when we finally make our way back to our seats.

The grounds are beautiful, of course, I would expect nothing less, but I don’t get the chance to fully appreciate them because my eyes are constantly being overwhelmed by the sight of resort guests who are either wearing dental floss for clothing or nothing at fucking all. Of everyone walking around, Chris and I have on the most clothes, and I don’t know whether to be glad that we weren’t stripped down at the check-in desk or annoyed that we stick out like sore thumbs.

Lust clogs my throat, and I swallow hard. “Did you bring me to a sex island?”

Another dark chuckle, this one so fucking sensual it makes me feel like I haven’t come in months. Years. Like satisfaction is a stranger instead of an old friend I visit with every day, multiple times a day. Chris inhales deeply, and I know he can smell how turned on I am, my fresh desire mixing with the heat, sweat, and cum leftover from what we did on the plane.

“Something like that.” He kisses my neck, his hands skating up my body, taking the hem of my dress with them, baring my thighs and stomach before coasting over my breasts. “This resort is known for...

“Apparently, people put on shows like this all night long.” Chris is still touching me, his hands busy and all-consuming while he grinds his erection into my ass. “Do you want to put on a show, princess?”

Ooop purrr

My breath catches in my throat, my mind spinning with possibility as the woman on the other rooftop throws her head back in ecstasy, tossing her moans into the air. They’re faint when they reach my ears but no less impactful.

“You’d do so well,” he whispers, dipping a finger into the cup of my bra to set one of my breasts free. “Every person here would come out on their roof just to hear you scream when I suck on these titties. They’d wait all night just for a chance to see you bouncing on my dick.”

#thatpart

Once the worker is gone, I turn around to face Chris, nipples hard, pussy wet, and a deep frown on my face because I know he won’t finish what he started. The wicked smile he gives me confirms my thoughts. “Maybe tomorrow night, princess.”

Hell nah nigga lmaooo

And just as I knew they would, the sounds of her pleasure drew the attention of people in the villas surrounding us. One guy was so enamored he approached us when we went to one of the on-site restaurants for breakfast and asked if we were interested in having him make a guest appearance. Mallory was flattered, but I had barely contained the urge to rip his fucking throat out for daring to speak to her. He must have sensed that he was in danger because he took one look at my face and rushed off before she could even give him an answer.

We’ve just finished our picnic, and now we’re walking along the shore. Hand in hand, waves lapping at our feet. Warm air blowing around the knotless braids flowing down her back. I gaze down at her, wondering if this is what true peace feels like, and smile when I realize it is.

“I want to share everything with you, princess,” I whisper into her ear, letting the hidden meaning exist in the simple but all-encompassing word.

“I’m not asking you that question yet.” The tension lining her shoulders melts away in an instant, and it’s all I need to see to know that she’s not ready. That we’re not ready. It’s a painful but necessary truth to learn, and I can tell by the way Mallory’s features go from fear to guilt that I’m not doing a good job of hiding the pain part.

“No, baby. You didn’t ruin anything. I did.” Her nails dig into my back, and I hold her even tighter. “I don’t need it, princess. There isn’t a piece of paper important enough or a ring big enough to prove what I already know to be true. You’re mine, and I’m yours. Those are our vows, and they’re more than enough for me.”

She raises up on her tiptoes, moving her arms up to wrap them around my neck. Warm waves lap at my feet as she brings her lips to mine, giving me the sweetest, most thorough kiss that takes my breath away. When it ends, she stares into my eyes for a long moment, then says, “I don’t think it’s a no. It’s just a not right now.”

“And I can live with that." I give her another kiss. "As long as I get to live with you.”

“You know, when Mama found out she was having a daughter, I’m pretty sure she spent a good chunk of her time praying that child would never be stupid enough to let a man fly her to another country, dress her up in a custom and blindfold her before taking out in the middle of the jungle somewhere.” “That would be a pretty specific prayer, princess.”

Lmao

I know she’s joking, but I still feel the need to remind her that she’s safe with me. That I would die before I let anything happen to her.

“Princess, you let me tie you up with your panties and fuck you against a tree. I had no doubts about your willingness to participate in my little primal fantasy.” When I pull back again, her eyes are glazed over with lust. “I let you fuck me against one tree, and suddenly I’m the Jane to your Tarzan, huh?”

It doesn’t take me long to find Mallory, and it takes even less time for the men and women around me to take note of her presence and start talking about her. Technically, they’re talking about everyone on the other side of the white line the Cerros workers laid to separate the two groups, but the comments about her are all I care about, all I hear.

And it works well until the same wide-chest bastard from earlier comes and stands next to me, his eyes fixed on Mallory. “I scented her earlier,” he says to no one in particular. “The one in the white crop top and short skirt,” he clarifies, looking in my direction with a leering smile. “She smelled amazing, like flowers or some shit.”

“Jasmine,” I grind out, cracking my neck before meeting his eyes. “She smells like jasmine.” “Jasmine,” he repeats, rubbing his chin. “I wonder if she’ll let me call her that when I catch her.” Red clouds my vision. “No, she won’t.”

“Prey,” Talia says, smiling. “When I call your name, you’ll meet me on this line and select the predators you want to greet you. Predators.” She turns to us, dark eyes roving over the crowd. “If you’re interested in the person who has selected you, you’ll step forward and wait for your turn to explore a connection. You’ll have just a few seconds to look, touch, smell, or, if your prey allows it, taste them. Then you’ll step back and give your competitors a turn. Once everyone has had a chance to consider their options, the prey will make a mating offer to their preferred predator. If the offer is accepted, you’ll be escorted to a tent by one of our staff members to sign consent forms and engage in a brief bonding period before the run commences.”

Woah

When she steps to the line, her eyes are alight with mischief that makes my heart sink, and when Talia strides over to her, putting one of her hands on Mallory’s waist and dragging her long fingers from her stomach to her back as she circles her, I’m ready to lose it. “You’re the only person here I’d put my running shoes on for tonight,” she says to Mallory. Several men, including the asshole standing next to me, shout their agreement.

“Him,” she says, and Talia hums her agreement when the smug motherfucker steps out of the line and walks toward them. He tries to advance on her immediately, over-eager and entirely too happy. Mal holds up a finger, commanding him to pause. “Wait. I’m not done.”

She selects two more people, a short, stocky white man and a tall, Amazonian-looking woman with tawny skin and a viscous smile, before finally bringing her gaze back to me. “And him.”

I move to her, unable to wait, unable to be gentle or patient or anything close to the man she knows me to be. All I am is two angry, long strides and a rough hand that cups her jaw, squeezing lightly and watching the flames of heat and need that consume her pupils.