Page 41 of Rogue

In the end, though, love is love, and I didn’t want anything bad to happen to him. His life wasn’t for me and I knew that. He knew it too, but for a while he thought he could keep me safe. His love and adoration for me, for what we had built is the only reason he didn’t push me away. However, when I decided to leave, he wasn’t going to chase me. He assumed Giulia had shared with me his original intention. He would rather let me hate him then drag me back into his world.

As confusing and toxic as all of it sounds and truly is, I can understand him better than I did when we were together.

What Benny never knew was Giulia’s need to guard my heart from any more pain and trauma meant she would take it to her grave that Benny was with me to kill her. Her desire to see me happy is also why he got to live after telling her his intention to kill her and the order coming from some Irishman. Giulia tells me not to worry, but I do.

If this man wanted her dead before, what changes now? It’s been years, is he still after her? I don’t know and she won’t share. Since returning to New Jersey, she is back in her world. We chat briefly each night to check in. She doesn’t share her business and work, but always checks on me. And for the first time in my life, she encourages me to see where things can go with Jennings. Apparently, after her background check, their meeting, and herseeing us together, she thinks this is the best place for me with the best man for me.

I don’t know if it’s all the best. But I do have a good life here in Alabama. I have a man who truly is willing to put me first. Sometimes I think he reads me better than I can read myself. Where things will go, I don’t know, but I do know I don’t want it to end right now.

Kitty too has healed. Thankfully, she isn’t upset with me even if I still do blame myself. She is the one who has given me the idea to turn a scar into art with a tattoo. I haven’t shared this with Jennings yet, but I want to.

To cover her bullet wound and the surgical scar, she has a back tattoo now of a phoenix. The paralysis in her lower extremities was the bullet pressing on a nerve. Once it was removed and the inflammation calmed down, her legs regained feeling. She is still in physical therapy learning to overcome the challenges of not walking for a couple of weeks.

That woman is stronger than anyone I know. And having been at the clubhouse, I understand the things she was telling me. While it’s taken me a bit to get used to, I know about her history as a club-whore (I so refuse to call her that) and sleeping with Rogue, plus the others. They don’t have anything more than a friendship now, as my man doesn’t like to share. Since he isn’t about to share me, he says he isn’t going to expect me to share him. Which is good because that’s a hard line for me and would have ended things with us before they could really begin. Apparently, though, it’s been a long time since the two even remotely went there. She is the reason Jennings is adamant about the nightmares and keeping distance between the two of us when he needs to crash.

We are overcoming this issue a little at a time. While he usually decides to sleep every other night, he is happy to occupy his waking time with me. This new attraction is exciting. Eventhough he’s sixteen years older than me, the man has the stamina of someone much younger. His body is a work of art and he definitely doesn’t skip cardio. Hell, sometimes I can’t keep up with him.

I am beginning to make friends with Rogue’s Kings family. Meeting everyone and learning who is who is a challenge, but I’m getting better. Blair is Tyrant’s woman, Lottie is with Creed, and Twilah is a little quirky, but I like her too. Henley stayed at my house, on the couch per Jennings requirement, and that man can cook. I thought my grandmother spoiled me with a hot breakfast every morning, that is until Henley. From the first morning having made from scratch cinnamon rolls, to scones, and traditional southern biscuits and gravy, I swear I gain five pounds every meal he makes. Jennings laughs when I say this and grabs my ass saying he appreciates every pound so I should eat up. Everyone here is accepting in a way I have never experienced before but I like it.

Jennings and all the Kings of Carnage have gotten my shop back to normal. He even comes on Fridays to unload my shipments personally. It’s kind of cute watching him trim stems or try to wire the heads of roses. His giant man hands holding this rose bud so gently … well, it makes me think of what those hands do to my rose bud and turns me on like never before.

He doesn’t complain either. Every Monday, he strolls in for tiger lilies and now I’m greeted with a kiss. A wet, hot one that leaves me wanting so much more.

Jennings Benson is a man who never denies what he wants, but refuses to push or take anything he doesn’t feel is right.

He’s driving me bonkers kissing me senseless, making me come on his fingers or his tongue, but never sealing the deal.

I am ready.

Do I need to shout it from the rooftops?

I’m twenty-eight, not eighteen, I know what I want. I also know life is short and precious.

He climbs into his side of the bed. I push him to his back and straddle him.

His shirt slides up and his hand hits my back. Yes, I sleep in his shirts. I find I prefer it and he likes it too. From there it slides down to my ass. Quickly he realizes I am panty-less.

“Hmm,” he mutters and his chest vibrates.

“No more telling me no, Jennings,” I whisper, squirming over him. “I want you, I want this. I want forever.”.

His hands move to cup my ass as his head lifts and his lips meet mine. His tongue dances in my mouth and I moan. My legs tremble as my breasts swell. Instantly, I’m turned on.

Uncontrollably so.

He buries his face in my neck as he shifts my legs, spreading me wide over him. I feel his thick penis against me. He moves one hand between us, two fingers he thrusts inside me. It’s a delicious assault as I’m wet and wanting for him.

Unabashed, I grind down on him. He raises up seeking more contact.

“Baby,” he mutters, “you ready for me, buttercup?”

Boldly, I reach between us, taking him in hand. He slides his fingers from inside me and I guide his length into my entrance. Slowly, my body stretches to accommodate him. I pause letting him fill me.

In a moment, he grips my hips and begins ever so slightly lifting me up and around. It doesn’t take me long to find rhythm with him. I rock, I roll, he pinches my nipples, lifts his shirt and sucks them. I grind down feeling him fill me inside like no man has ever before. When he’s had enough of letting me play, he flips us so I’m on my back. With my ankles to his shoulders, he thrusts before pulling out to just the tip and sliding back in again.

Over and over he does this hitting me deeper and deeper each time. His hand drops to my clit where his thumb presses against me as he thrusts.

“Come on, buttercup, give it to me,” he encourages as I match him thrust for thrust. The pace quickening, he removes his thumb dropping my legs around his sides as he kisses me. The second his tongue touches mine, I feel it.

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