Free Mine by Mary Calmes

look in his eyes terrified me for a second before he bent and lapped at my stomach. Our seed, together, mixed, that apparently was finally enough. He slurped and sucked and swallowed, and when I dragged a finger through it and licked it clean, he shuddered. When I did it again, moving my finger toward my mouth, he leaned forward, lips parted.
    I should have been freaked out, grossed out, anything, but all that mattered was bringing him back from the dark place he had gone to. So I touched my fingertip to his tongue and watched him lave at it, suck and taste, then move downward to my wrist and elbow. He licked and nibbled to my shoulder and then beneath, his face in my armpit, still licking before he moved across my chest, his mouth opening to suck my nipple, tug it, pull and finally bite down hard.
    I gasped but he didn’t care, and it hurt and didn’t, everything blurring together, becoming the same.
    “Your skin is driving me fuckin’ crazy.”
    He was manic and he had to sleep, but he was still in a frenzy of need. And it was my fault. I knew better. When we were out, especially when we were out, he needed to be in my lap, holding my hand, close to me. I had forgotten that if we were home, had people at our place, it didn’t matter; a woman could use me like a pole and wrap herself all over me and it was fine because he knew where he was, knew I was his. But out, when he couldn’t look around and get his bearings, there was only me, and if I didn’t keep tabs… then it was on me.
    “I need water,” I said suddenly because it was my last gambit.
    “You do?”
    I nodded.
    He left and I could hear the ice trays in the kitchen being cracked, dumped into the tray in the freezer, and then the water running as he refilled them. When he came back, I saw the splotches of dried cum all over him and how he shivered. I thanked him and drained the glass. I saw it then; saw Landry back behind his eyes. That I had needed a favor, small, simple, and domestic, that had grounded him, reminded him of who he was, who I was, and about the two of us together.
    “Let’s strip the bed and take a shower, okay?”
    He nodded because he was coming down—quiet, contained, and worried suddenly about what he had done.
    I ran the shower and put him under the warm spray before I went back to take care of the sheets. We had two sets of linens for the bed and that was it. Lucky for us, the apartment had come with a washer and dryer, so that was really all we needed.
    By the time he padded into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, I was done.
    “Okay, I’m gonna go jump in the shower. I’ll be right back.”
    He nodded, but I heard the stilted breath so I stepped in front of him on my way out of the room.
    “Are you mad at me?”
    I put my hands on his face. “Hell no, why would I be mad? You fucked me good.”
    He didn’t like the answer, too glib, so I bent and kissed him, softly, tenderly, my tongue tracing over his bottom lip until he whimpered in the back of his throat. When I lifted away, he leaned with me.
    “I love you, I will always love you, everything’s fine and I’m not mad. I just need to sleep. You wore me out.”
    Lots of nodding, lots of smiling, and he let me go. By the time I was done with my shower, he was passed out in the bed. He didn’t even move when I slid under the covers with him and turned off the light. That night we had both learned something, I understood my absolute place in his life and what he needed, and my boy learned how to top. It had been win-win in my mind from something that had started out very scary.
     
     
    “ T REV ?”
    I looked over at Conrad, the spell of my memories broken.
    “Listen, you’re not in any danger if you just are smart. Stay away from places you do business, simple as that.”
    I nodded. “Okay.”
    “Okay? What were you thinking about?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Can you focus, please?”
    “Sure.”
    “About the gun. If you go out of town, put the gun in the