Angel With A Broken Wing | Jonah Simms
And if I may just take your breath away / I don't mind if there's not much to say / Sometimes the silence guides a mind / To move to a place so far away / The goosebumps start to raise / The minute that my left hand meets your waist / And then I watch your face / Put my finger on your tongue 'cause you love to taste, yeah / These hearts adore, everyone the other beats hardest for / Inside this place is warm / Outside it starts to pour
Warnings: Mature language and themes. Sexual content.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three: Still I Cling
Marcus stayed late that night. Given the day I’d had, it was reasonable for him to assume I didn’t want sex. But that wasn’t the case.
“Here. I got you a glass of water,” he sat back down beside me.
I sat up in bed, slowly taking it as I took a few sips. “Thank you.”
He nodded, watching me as I drank. “Just tell me if you need anything else, okay?”
His eyes didn’t leave me as I took another long drink. I took a deep breath, set it back down on the nightstand. I looked up at him, hoping to penetrate the veneer of sympathy.
“I do,” I murmured.
I glanced at his lips, then back up at his eyes again. His brows furrowed, and he slowly leaned in. It took a moment for the conflicted expression to disappear before he leaned in. His faced stopped a few inches apart from mine as he looked me up and down. Impatient, I closed the distance, and I kissed him gently. He huffed into my mouth, desire in every breath as he grabbed onto the headboard, his body over mine. My demeanor seemed to erase any doubt that I didn’t want this. Why was this me?
I gently bit down on his bottom lip as we kissed. He cupped my cheek, pulling away for just a split second. He had to stop himself.
“You’re perfect,” he said.
My hand traced lightly down his back, then to grab his ass as he jolted forward. His pupils seemed to swallow the color in his eyes.
“My girl…”
His hands were underneath my shirt. I helped pull his shirt over his head, I wrapped my arms around him as we kissed. This hug was a prison. He pulled his boxers off, pawing at my shirt as it came off.
“No bra?”
I shook my head.
“Nice,” he grinned.
I giggled as we stripped our clothes off, and Marcus climbed back on top of me. He was gripping my hips, hard, like he was afraid I was going somewhere. I felt light touches between my legs. My fingernails dug into his back as he hissed a little, ecstatic at the touch. His strong hand was between my legs. His fingers stopped at my clit. I taught him that.
“Can I…?” he trailed off.
I posed a question in response.
“Can I cry?”
His expression softened, and his thumb brushed my cheek. “Of course you can.”
All of a sudden, I gasped as I felt him moving in almost harsh circular motions.
“Cry all you want,” he whispered an invitation, watching me intently.
I kissed him automatically. I knew it was gross, but it was what I wanted. It was the kind of sick, disgusting thing I could never do with anyone else. He kissed me with a strange sort of passion, the kind that didn’t have to be rough to be insane. I could feel his fingers moving frantically, until he stopped. I let out a soft breath as I felt him teasing, about to put one in.
“You want it?” he asked me.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Can you say it?” Marcus asked. “Please?”
“I want it.”
I pulled him down on top of me in a sloppy kiss as he pushed a finger in.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” he panted between kisses.
I felt him curl his fingers, searching for the right spot. He slowly pushed another one in.
“Fucking Sausage Fingers,” I teased him breathlessly.
He smiled as he kissed me back, my hands in his hair as he groaned quietly. Neither of us were ever fully serious. His fingers began to pick up the pace as I sighed, letting him hide in the crook of my neck as he slowly kissed down my neck. The kisses were light and warm, the cold air I felt in between each one chilling me. I stared up at him as he seemed to jackhammer enthusiastically.
“You wanna come for me?” he groaned.
“Yeah…”
“Yeah?” Marcus echoed. “You gonna come for me?”
His eyes were trained on me as he kept going.
“Come on…” he spoke in ragged breaths. “Come for me, please. Come on…!”
I laid my head back exhaustedly. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” he sighed, “Come on, just come for me. Right now, I wanna see it… Please.”
All of his attention was on me. I let out a shaky gasp as his fingers moved in and out.
“Jesus, you’re tight! Stop doing that,” he muttered. “Fuck. I can’t take it.”
He nipped at my neck as I grabbed onto his hair, only fueling his efforts.
He whispered in my ear. “Can you take more…?”
“Yeah,” I gasped.
He slid another finger in. “Fuck, you’re so tight, oh my God. You’re so wet, Jesus.”
“Don’t bring him into this.”
“I’ll bring him into this,” Marcus grinned stupidly as he thrusted his fingers in and out.
“Oh my God, you’re an idiot,” I gasped for air.
“Your idiot,” he offered, fingers moving at the highest possible speed. “You hear that?”
I groaned.
“Come on. Come for me. Please,” he leaned in as he cupped my cheek, giving me no escape. “I’m right here… I got you…”
I gasped softly.
“There you go… Come for me. Right here, right now…”
I felt it as I grabbed onto the sheets. He grabbed ahold of my hand, holding it tight.
“Hold onto me. I got you… I got you, baby,” he panted.
There it was. My breath hitched, and his eyes widened.
“There it is…” he sounded almost relieved.
“Marcus!”
He kept going, until I was all fucked out. It was tiring, in the best way.
“There it is… My favorite girl…” he moaned, affectionately kissing at my neck as he closed his eyes.
I felt his wet fingers tracing my lower stomach, holding me tightly still. He seemed to settle on top of me, burying his face in my neck.
“I love the smell of your hair… You’re incredible,” Marcus whispered as he moved to spoon me.
I wrapped his arms around me, closing my eyes. “Come here.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised me, holding me tight as he pressed into my back, “I’m right here.”
*****
A week went by. I got up, almost like a routine, and I kissed Marcus before we both left my apartment, and I dropped Gigi off at school. After I got back in the car, I let out a long sigh. I drove and drove, and then I got out of the car, running inside. I felt my heart beating fast.
“Hi. I was here last week.”
“Yeah, I remember you, girl! How’s it going?” Aracely smiled at me.
“Can I see Snowball?” I asked immediately, still anxious and antsy. “I wanna adopt him.”
Her face fell. I didn’t understand. I couldn't take it.
“What?” I questioned. “What is it?”
“Girl, I’m so sorry,” she breathed, as if letting it all out at once. “I— We just found him a couple days ago. He didn’t make it.”
Now I knew what that face was for.
“No…” I realized, unable to stop my face from twisting.
“I’m so sorry,” she shook her head, in her own state of distress now. “He was just. He was too sick, and we didn’t treat it in time—”
“I’m sorry,” I said finally.
She shook her head. “No, no, I’m sorry—”
Everything she said to me started to sound like I was underwater. I couldn’t take this feeling, this feeling of “too little, too late”. I was a mother.
-
Chapter Twenty-Four



















