Chapter Ten
"Are you sure you don't know this man who attacked you Michael? I really think we should report it, we can't live in a society where thugs roam free without consequences," Lucy harped, stirring a drizzle of maple syrup into her bowl of porridge.
"I told you mom, I don't know the guy," Michael sighed, shooting Flick a contemptuous glare over his bowl of frosted flakes. "Besides, I think you've got your rose tinted glasses on mom, this town isn't exactly family-friendly. It's full of low-lives and drug pushers, isn't that right Flick?" he smirked smugly.
"Oh I don't know, I've always been a big believer in talk shit – get hit," she countered around a mouthful of cocoa pops.
"Felicity Emerson, that's not a very nice thing to say to your brother," Lucy scolded.
"Yeah well maybe he deserved it," Flick argued, feeling a spark of anger ignite in her chest. Why couldn't her mother see that Michael was a bit of an asshole? Why did she always have to cater to him like he was some over-grown man-child?
"Like my girlfriend deserved to be abused by her ex-boyfriend? The ex that you just so happen to be hanging around with?" Michael retorted, his eyes flashing with ire.
Lucy's spoon slipped from between her fingers, hitting her porridge with a muted slop whilst Sam shot his big sister an awkward side-eye, his mouth turned down in a grimace; he knew as well as Flick did that their mother was about to go on a record-breaking rant…
"I hope for your sake that this isn't true Felicity," Lucy stated sternly.
"It's not," Flick shot back. "Star wasn't abused by David at all, it's just some story she's made up to make herself sound better. I mean, who wants to be with a girl who'd jumped into bed with another man whilst the sheets were still warm from the previous one?"
"Shut up!" Michael yelled, slamming his spoon against the table with enough force to send a renegade milk missile across the table.
"Why what you gonna do Mike? You gonna hit me again?" Flick sneered.
"Wait, you hit her?" Sam's eyes widened in alarm as he addressed his elder brother.
"Just what the hell happened while I was away?" Lucy's voice raised a few octaves as she rose to her feet. "If I can't leave my grown children at home alone for a few days without everything descending into utter chaos then I've obviously failed as a mother. Felicity, you are not to hang around with people capable of any form of abuse!"
"Shouldn't you be lecturing your son about being abusive? Did you not hear what I said? He hit me!"
"She's lying," Michael argued, putting on his best butter wouldn't melt act.
"I don't know what's gotten into you Felicity but I don't appreciate your attitude nor do I appreciate such outlandish lies," Lucy declared, clearly siding with her angel-child.
Flick laughed sardonically. "Yeah I thought you might say that," she scowled, storming out of the kitchen, wishing there was a door she could slam just to release some of her frustration.
By the time she'd reached her room, some of the anger she'd felt had faded only to be replaced with despondence and an overwhelming sense of not belonging. The boys had never made her feel like she didn't belong, not even David with his indifferent air and stoic mannerism. Yet here she was, amongst her own family, feeling like an outsider, like someone who could be easily dismissed or disbelieved. It was in that moment that she started to understand the Lost Boys mentality, they were a family, a pack, no man was left behind despite differences in personality. They had each other's backs, they protected their own, they were ride or die. It seemed in this house, it was fall at Michael's feet or be cast aside like a leper.
"Hey Flick?" a hesitant voice called out from behind her as she stepped into her room.
She turned to find Sam stood awkwardly on the landing, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. "Yeah?"
"Did Mike really hit you?"
She nodded, observing her younger brothers expression falter slightly. "The guy who roughed him up-"
"-It wasn't Paul," she cut him off before he had the chance to voice his thoughts.
"But it was one of the Lost Boys, wasn't it?" he countered knowingly.
"Whether it was or it wasn't had nothing to do with me, I didn't ask them to do anything."
"That's the point Flick, can't you see that? You don't need to tell them to do anything, they'll do it anyway. They see you as their possession now and they'll attack anyone who tries to pull you in the opposite direction including your family."
"What family? I have a brother who hits me when I tell him some home truths about his precious girlfriend, a mom who doesn't give a shit what happens to me as long as it doesn't effect saint Michael and I have a little brother whose running around town with two wannabe vampire slayers who seems to think he has a right to tell me who I can and who I can't hang with," she stated coldly.
A flicker of hurt registered in Sam's eyes and for a brief moment Flick felt a spark of guilt settle in her stomach. "I'm just looking out for you Flick, I don't want to see you get hurt… I don't want to see you end up in a situation that you can't get out of."
"Well maybe, just maybe, I don't wanna get out of it Sam, did you ever stop to think that?" she retorted before slamming the door in his face.
~/~
"Wait, just take a step back, let's go over it again," Alan held up his hand, stopping Sam in the middle of his flustered rant.
"How many times do I have to tell you guys?" he threw his hands up in exasperation.
"Once more," Edgar interjected, his arms folded over his chest.
Sam exhaled a frustrated sigh and mirrored Edgar's body language. "I told her that I wasn't trying to tell her what to do, that I just didn't want to see her get hurt or in a situation that she couldn't get out of."
"To which she said…" Alan gesticulated.
Sam scowled. "That maybe she didn't want to get out of it…"
"She knows," Edgar declared gruffly, shaking his head.
"Knows what? What are you talking about?" Sam huffed, finding he was quickly losing his patience with the Frog brothers and their insistence for talking in cryptic code and unfathomable riddles – or at least that's what it felt like.
"Your sister knows what the Lost Boys are," Alan clarified.
"That's crazy, if she knew the truth -if it's really true at all- why would she not want to hop on the next greyhound out of town?" Sam shook his head incredulously.
"Because they've played with her mind Phoenix, we told you, it's what bloodsuckers do, they get in your head, under your skin. Your sister probably thinks she loves Paul and that he loves her, when in reality, he's just biding his time until he can stick his fangs in her neck and make her queen of the damned. Another soul to take, another mind to break, another body to own," Alan explained.
"This is bad… this is so bad… this whole thing with her and Mike is just pushing her closer to Paul, she's even mad at our mom right now, I mean, they're literally not speaking… like at all," Sam flustered, running a hand through his hair.
"That's what they want, they want to isolate her, to make her feel like she only has them to turn to, to feel like she's one of the pack," Edgar mused.
"What do we do?" Sam swallowed, feeling fear squeeze his windpipe like a set of invisible fingers. As much as he and his sister fought, he did love her, he did care and he certainly didn't want to see her succumb to the lure of a pack of vampires.
"If she knows the truth about what the Lost Boys are, it's obviously not a deal-breaker for her right now," Edgar surmised. "So that means we have to find a way to make her see Paul for the kind of guy he is, we need to catch him doing something that you know would hurt her."
"Cheating," Sam blurted. "If we can catch him with another girl and she sees it, I know for a fact that she'd hate him for it. She wouldn't forgive him, she still hasn't forgiven my dad for what he did to our mom and I seriously don't think she ever will…"
"OK so we have a plan, now we just need to catch lover-boy in the act," Edgar nodded.
"Easier said than done," Alan sighed.
~/~
Flick dawdled through the town centre, wistfully observing the way couples spilled from fancy candle-lit restaurants in jumbles of arms and legs, their eyes twinkling with adoration, their faces alight with affectionate warmth. She found herself wondering whether her and Paul's relationship would ever be as normal as those loved-up couples, could they ever just sit in a fancy restaurant and have a conversation? Flick chuckled to herself, did she even want her relationship with Paul to be that normal?
The answer to that question was a firm no, she liked that their relationship wasn't conventional, it went deeper than just boyfriend/girlfriend, they were fated for each other, two souls intertwined by the universe. Bleurgh, since when did she become so sappy?
Flick meandered towards the entrance of the boardwalk, her eyes eagerly scanning the growing crowds as the horizon further darkened, the streaks of apricot and pastel pink fading to the familiar inky, star-studded black she'd come to know intimately. With nothing to do but pass time until Paul showed up, Flick found herself outside the comic store, figuring that she'd apologise to Sam for her earlier cold-shoulder. It was sweet of Sam to care so much about her well-being, she'd just been too irked to appreciate it at the time.
Flick frowned when she pushed against the door and met resistance, kicking herself when she realised that the sign hanging out front had been flipped to 'closed'. She peered through the print-smeared glass for any sign of her little brother only to be met by a wall of comic books and a cramped dimly lit empty space. Shrugging to herself, Flick back tracked back out onto the boardwalk, heading in the direction of the arcades knowing it was one of Sam and his new-found nerdy friends favourite haunts.
She was battling her way through the animated crowds when a familiar gruff voice called out from somewhere behind her. "Hey, Emerson!"
Flick spun on her heel, her brow arched in question when she spotted Edgar, Alan and Sam jogging in her direction, their faces flushed like they'd been running around the boardwalk. Had they been looking for her? Sam slowed his pace, coming to an unsteady halt in front of where she stood with her hands on her hips, her eyes appraising the trio with an air of suspicion. "We've been looking everywhere for you," her younger brother panted, fanning his shirt as he exhaled a shaky breath.
"I've kinda been looking for you too, I wanted to-" Flick started but Edgar abruptly cut her off.
"-Look we don't have time for the whole sentimental family reunion," he rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You need to come with us."
Flick scoffed. "I'm busy," she countered fully intending to walk-away, she wasn't exactly in the mood for Edgar's less than amiable approach to normal human conversation.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Alan nudge Sam, seemingly urging him to stop her. "Flick wait, we really think you need to see this, I swear this isn't a joke," Sam caught her arm, his baby blue eyes practically pleading.
"What's your damage dude," she huffed, wrangling her arm free of his hold. "I'm not in the mood for some dumb game Sam. Besides, I'm meeting Paul."
"This is about Paul," Alan interjected.
"What? If this is just another one of your stupid vampy interventions then I'm really not interested."
"I swear it's not Flick but you need to see this – Paul's not the guy you think he is," Sam implored almost desperately.
What did he mean, Paul's not the guy she thinks he is? It sounded like some dumb vampire conspiracy theory to her which bore no impact on what she felt about Paul seen as she already knew the truth. However, there was something in her brother's eyes that told her that it was more than that, it was something deeper. With curiosity overriding her rationale, Flick exhaled an exasperated sigh and reluctantly nodded, gesturing for the three boys to lead the way.
Admittedly, when Flick found herself rounding the back alley of some sleazy, dive bar on the outskirts of the boardwalk she found her curiosity quickly morphing into a sinking feeling of dread. Why would Sam be anywhere near this place? What could he possibly have seen that he felt she needed to know? In particular, what did this perv parade have to do with Paul?
Flick swallowed around the lump in her throat, suddenly tasting the bitter hint of bile on her tongue.
"Look, we know you're all in love with this dude and we hate to be the guys that're the ones to say, 'I told you so' but your boyfriend is a major douche and he's just playing you for a fool," Edgar stated as they came to a sudden halt beside a row of glistening motorcycles two of which she recognised which only seemed to add to the sinking feeling in her stomach.
"I really don't understand what you're trying to tell me," Flick pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable which is something she really, really didn't want to be in front of anyone, let alone Sam and his two dorky friends.
"We didn't bring you here to tell you anything, we brought you here to show you something," Alan replied as Sam gave her an apologetic glance and gestured to the entrance to the bar where to Flick's astonishment she found Paul and Marko stumbling out into the night with two girls tucked under their arms.
She watched with her heart in her mouth as Paul whispered something in the girl who was currently pawing at his chests ear, causing her to squeal in mock outrage before she flung her arms around his neck. Despite feeling like her heart was literally being ripped apart, Flick felt a rising anger make her chest feel overly tight and she was finding it hard to breathe. Without knowing exactly what it was she was going to do, she found her feet propelling her towards the rat bastard who had broken her trust.
Sam made an attempt to hold her back but she easily shook him off, making a bee-line for where Paul and Marko still stood, fawning over the girls whose dresses barely covered their asses. She was a few feet away when Marko's head snapped up, his expression morphing into one that screamed 'oh shit'. He nudged Paul's shoulder, motioning in Flick's direction and Paul glanced up, his mischievous smile dropping into a guilty grimace and Flick attempted to swallow back the tears that she could feel building at speed at the back of her eyes.
"You lying son of a bitch," Flick hissed, her voice wavering slightly as she came to a shaky halt in front of the guy she loved and naively thought loved her too.
"Who's this dork?" the girl on Paul's arm scoffed, eying her with distaste as her friend giggled beside Marko.
"Who am I? I was his girlfriend," she countered through gritted teeth to which the girl burst out with laughter.
"Is she serious babe? Were you really going out with this dork?" the girl laughed tauntingly and the lump in Flick's throat doubled in size. What hurt the most was the girl was right, compared to her and her high-lighted hair and skin-tight dress, she really was a dork…
A flash of anger registered in Paul's eyes and he shoved the girl away with a little more aggression than he likely intended. "You don't know shit," Paul hissed at the chastised female who was trying to save face, straightening out the skirt of her dress. "Flick listen, it's not what you think-"
"-Bullshit," Flick yelled, her open palm connecting with Paul's steel-like jaw. "Fuck!" she murmured, cradling her hand against her chest.
Lesson learnt, never hit a vampire…
Unphazed by her act of violence, Paul glanced over Flick's shoulder and his eyes darkened with anger. "You're so fucking dead," he growled, side-stepping her whimpering form as he made a bee-line for Sam and the two brothers.
"Paul!" Marko hollered, skirting passed her with an apologetic grimace on his face.
Snapping out of her self-pitying bubble, Flick spun on her heel and sprinted after Paul, grabbing his wrist as she desperately tried to stop him from beating the shit out of her little brother. Alan, Edgar and Sam stepped back, their eyes flickering with both alarm and fear. "If you touch him Paul I swear to God I'll castrate you," Flick warned, yanking on Paul's arm with what inconsequential strength she had.
"This is what they wanted, can't you see that? They wanna break us up!" Paul declared in exasperation, throwing his arms up in the air, almost ripping her arm out of its socket in the process.
"How can you blame them when you're the one in the wrong Paul?" Flick scoffed. "You're the one cheating, you're the one playing me for a fool. You're the one who hurt me," she added, her voice breaking as her vision blurred with tears.
"Flick just give him a minute to explain, it's really not what you think," Marko implored, reaching for her arm in a gesture of comfort.
"Don't touch me! You're just as bad as he is, I thought we were friends!" she yelled pathetically. "You know what? Fuck the both of you, I'm done – just leave me the hell alone and if you even think about going after my brother, I'll hunt you down and kill you myself!" she declared before storming towards the beach in desperate need of some time out.
~/~
Paul stared after Flick dumbly, his brain unable to register just what the hell had happened. He'd lost her. The thought struck him like a nine-iron to the temple and his inherent rage quickly dissolved into gut-wrenching anguish. "Are you happy now?" he growled in the dork brothers direction, glaring at Flick's younger brother with hatred, his urge to rip out their hearts and stamp all over them almost overwhelming.
"You've only got yourself to blame," the taller of the two frog brothers stated before the trio slowly backed into the crowd, glancing over their shoulders every so often as they weaved their way through the sea of bodies.
"I need to find her," Paul panicked, digging the heels of his palms against his eye sockets.
"Dude you need to feed," Marko advised, shaking his head in disapproval.
Paul glanced over his shoulder where the two bimbo's he and Marko had scored stood in a hushed conversation back by the entrance of the bar. He recalled how the girl he'd charmed had referred to his mate as a dork and he felt a blind rage almost knock him off his feet. However, despite the painful itch of thirst gnawing at the back of his mind and the back of his throat, his desire to find Flick and make her understand what she saw wasn't what she'd thought she'd seen was stronger. "It can wait," Paul replied determinedly as he took off at a sprint across the boardwalk in the direction he'd last seen Flick.
Flick's sweet, intoxicating scent burned his nostrils, flooding his mind in one big tidal wave of need, want and yearning. His stomach had tied itself in one giant, intricate knot and he found himself on the brink of sheer, mind-numbing panic. All he could think about was losing his mate, the thought alone enough to make his chest feel overly tight, like a noose had been tied around his neck and every second he lost was another second the rope grew tighter, crushing his windpipe.
He collapsed against the rail bordering the beach, panting without being even close to out of breath as his predators eyes scanned the expense of sand in desperation. He caught sight of a familiar figure stood at the edge of the shore staring out into the sea of inky black, the scent of his mates distress palpable in the way his skin crawled as if he was covered in a blanket of roaches. He vaulted the rail, landing in the sand with silent, practiced grace, his sole focus on erasing the hurt of his mate that he could feel cutting through him like a knife through flesh.
"Flick," he called out softly as he approached, not wanting to startle her.
"Leave me alone Paul," she sniffled, holding her arms tighter around her middle.
"Babe please just hear me out, yeah?" he countered, hating the pleading cadence of his own voice.
"Why? So you can fill me head with even more bullshit? I get it OK, I'm naïve, I'm dumb, I'm an easy lay or whatever. Maybe that girl was right, I am just a dork…" she mumbled self-deprecatingly, refusing to meet his eyes.
"Hey, don't do that," Paul argued.
"Do what?"
"Put yourself down like that," he clarified, moving to stand in front of her. "That chick was a bitch and I should have ripped her throat out the second she insulted you but unfortunately we had an audience."
"C'mon Paul, I'm nothing like that girl," Flick shook her head her watery sea-green eyes meeting his. "Let's face it, she suits you better than what I do…"
"No," he practically growled, cupping her face in the palms of his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You are who I want. You are who was made for me. You are the one I love. No one else can compare to you Flick, don't you get that?"
"You're lying to yourself and to me Paul. If I really meant that much to you then why the hell were you letting some random girl throw herself at you – you didn't look like you minded so much from where I stood."
"I'm not lying babe I swear, just let me explain, please?"
"Fine… explain… but I swear if you try bullshitting me, I'm just gonna walk away," Flick relented, her arms falling to her sides as he exhaled a sigh of relief.
"I swear I'm not bullshitting when I tell you I had no interest in that chick-" he started. "-You know what I am, right?"
"An asshole?" she countered and Paul snorted.
"Amongst other things," Paul smirked, his chest aching when he saw the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth as she stifled her amusement. "I actually meant the whole immortal thing…"
"OK, what about it?"
"Well you know what being immortal entails right? That I feed off humans, specifically their blood?"
Flick nodded.
"That's all she was babe, my next fucking meal. It ain't always the best idea to just swoop in and snatch someone off the street, you have to look inconspicuous, you know? Making it look like I was hooking up with some chick makes me less suspicious…"
"You mean you were just leading her on until you could get her alone and kill her?"
"That's exactly what I was doing," Paul nodded.
"Oh…"
"But obviously the dork brigade saw me with another chick and assumed I was doing the dirty on you. It was just another shitty tactic to get you away from me Flick. C'mon you gotta realise they'll do anything to split us up and if you didn't already know the truth about what I am, I'm guessing they would have succeeded."
"You swear you're telling me the truth Paul?" Flick murmured, her voice wavering slightly.
"I swear babe, I'm yours, only yours…" he soothed, grazing the pad of his thumb across her jaw, his chest aching as he observed the way she sub-consciously leant into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed.
"Today's been such a shit day," she confessed, dropping her head against his chest.
"Why babe, has something happened?" he inquired as he folded her into his arms, kissing her crown.
"Kinda… I got into an argument with Mike again only this time in front of my mom. It came out that he hit me but she didn't believe me… she believed him…"
"Are you fucking serious?" Paul asked incredulously, pulling back to search her face.
"Yeah…" she nodded, chewing her lip as she bit back tears.
"Aw shit babe, don't cry – it fucking kills me seeing you cry," he pouted, hugging her tightly. "How about we go back to the cave and just hang out? Sounds like you need some time out babe."
"OK," Flick sighed, taking his hand as he lead her back across the beach in search of his ride and some hard liquor.
~/~
"Dude…" Paul murmured, his arm flopping over the side of the mattress. The two of them were currently sprawled out on the bed, their legs hooked over each end of the metal frame, their heads resting crown to crown in the middle. "I'm so fucking wasted…"
"Am I floating? I feel like I'm floating…" Flick mumbled dazedly.
"Nah you're anchored babe," Paul reached back, patting her forehead. Flick giggled, catching his hand and brought it in-line with her face, studying the plethora of rings decorating his slender fingers. She twisted the silver band on his thumb, imagining she could hear the silver ring rotating with a steady click like the bars of a turn-style. "Hey babe, if you had to put a bow-tie on a giraffe, would you put it on top of it's neck or on the bottom?" he asked, drawing her own hand back as she felt him trace the lines of her palm.
Flick giggled, her giggles descending into hysterical laughter when she pictured a giraffe sporting a red, glittery bow-tie. "You know I think I'd put it on the top," she giggled, her hand flopping down against the heavy sheets when Paul relinquished his hold.
"Really? I'd put it on the bottom. I don't know, I think it'd look smarter, you know?" Paul mused.
"Why the hell would a giraffe need to look smart Paul?" Flick laughed.
"I dunno, you don't know what animals do. They might have some secret clubs or societies. The giraffe might have to give a speech and might need to look dapper for his audience, you know?"
"I never thought about that," Flick murmured – God she was baked.
"Do you have any secrets?" she whispered after a brief pause.
"Not really, I'm a pretty open book babe – besides, you know the one thing I was scared to tell you about myself, why would I hide anything else?" he replied, toying with the ends of her hair over his shoulder.
"You must have at least one other, even books have pages to turn," she countered.
"You think I'm like an onion? Like, I have layers?"
"Maybe, but you smell better than an onion," she giggled and Paul laughed. "Do you miss your mom and dad Paul?"
"Sometimes," Paul shrugged. "If I tell you something, you promise you won't tell anyone?"
"Pinkie promise," she nodded, holding up her pinkie finger.
Paul linked his own bejewelled pinkie finger with hers and gave a gentle tug. "I miss my mom sometimes, but I don't miss my dad, the whole reason I ended up in Santa Carla was 'cause I dipped out of home one night and hopped on a coach. My mom was sweet n'all but too sweet, you know?"
"She let my dad treat her like a doormat. He used to strut around town sticking his dick in whatever chick flashed her ass at him and then come home to my mom and brag about it, running his mouth about how if she satisfied him, he wouldn't need to go elsewhere. On top of that, he used to be physically abusive, like he used to beat ten shades of shit outta me on the daily, and I got tired of it man, I didn't do shit, I was just a guy who liked to play, you know? I wasn't harming anyone, I was just living my life but my old man didn't like to see anyone happy and he tried to break me, but I ain't the kinda person to let anyone break me, I am what I am and if you don't like it, then kiss my ass, I ain't gonna change."
Flick rolled onto her side and Paul followed suite, leaving the two of them face to face. "I'm sorry Paul, that's… heavy…" she frowned.
"Eh, it is what is it babe," he smiled, his pale grey eyes glinting in the low light. "What about you angel-face, you got any secrets?"
"Just one…" she chewed her lip coyly.
"Oh yeah? Spill the beans Maybelline," Paul wriggled his eyebrows.
Flick giggled, playfully flicking his hair. "My secret is that-" she paused, her stomach fluttering with a million dancing butterflies. She couldn't believe she was going to put the feeling that had been growing stronger day by day into words. What had happened that morning only deemed to solidify her inner desires but it didn't make the idea any less daunting.
"Go on, tell me," Paul coaxed eagerly.
"If I had to choose between my family and you, I'd choose you," she blurted and Paul's eyes widened, his jaw hanging loose in an incredulous smile.
"You mean you'd become one of us officially? Or you'd just like, move in without the commitment?"
"Officially…" she whispered, feeling her cheeks heat.
"Babe, are you so baked that if I were to make a move right now I'd be taking advantage?" Paul murmured, positioning himself so he was straddling her hips.
"Not at all," she smirked.
"Good, cause I'm gonna fucking devour you," he grinned impishly, crushing Flick's mouth in a breath-taking kiss. "Damn baby, I miss you so fucking much when you ain't around…" he murmured, trailing his tongue down the length of her neck to the skin of her chest exposed by the low-riding collar of her shirt.
"I miss you too Paul," she hummed, biting her lip when Paul sucked a sensitive spot on her neck.
"Tell me what you miss," he drawled with a smirk, grazing his teeth over her bottom lip.
Flick twisted her fingers in his wild, dirty blonde hair, trapping him in a succession of teasing kisses, her desire building rapidly. "I miss the feel of your hands on my body. I miss the feel of your lips on my skin and I miss the feel of your tongue branding your name between my thighs…"
Paul groaned whilst Flick nibbled her bottom lip with a smirk as Paul practically ripped off her jeans and underwear, guiding her upright whilst he pushed the cotton fabric of her shirt down over her shoulders and arms, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses over her bare skin.
A low moan escaped Flicks swollen, parted lips as Paul's warm, wet tongue explored her breasts, nipping, biting and sucking the sensitive mounds of flesh. She gently pushed against his crown, yearning to feel the heat of his tongue somewhere much lower and Paul chuckled, zig-zagging his tongue the length of her stomach before he buried his face between her thighs.
"Mmm… yes…" she moaned, her back arching as her lover hungrily devoured her. The tip of Paul's tongue teasingly flicked her sensitive bud before he covered her with his mouth, sucking hard. "Oh… God…" she panted, palming the sheets as she felt her climax building at speed. Flick's body exploded with a thousand bursting beads of pleasure, her veins bleeding liquid fire leaving her writhing and whimpering, entangling her limbs in the sheets.
Paul crawled back up her body, grinning mischievously, his addictively kissable lips glistening with the remnants of her desire. "I didn't think you were religious babe," he teased, kissing her enticingly.
"I wouldn't say I am but I think I just saw heaven," she giggled and Paul barked a laugh.
He whipped off his own clothes and her eyes raked over his naked body with pent up lust. "How about you show me heaven baby?" Paul drawled, trailing a ringed finger down her chest.
"Seen as you asked so nicely," she smirked, pushing him down onto his back.
"Nice move," he smirked, biting his lip hotly seconds later when Flick teasingly ground her ass against his rock-hard cock.
"You know I have plenty more.." she whispered, dipping down to place a lingering kiss to his lips. "Should I show you one of my signatures?"
Paul moaned as Flick fluttered kisses across his muscular chest and torso. "Shit baby, you feel so fucking good," he groaned as she lowered herself onto him, taking all of him, slowly.
Flick braced her hands on Paul's chest, slowly rolling her hips in quick, hard thrusts, shuddering and biting her lip as liquid fire ignited in one intense burst low in her stomach. Paul smoothed his hands down the curves of her waist, grabbing her hips and firmly squeezed her rear. He bucked his hips to match her movements and she whimpered, almost collapsing against his chest as his pulsing cock brushed her g-spot at the most perfect angle, resulting in another explosive orgasm.
Flicks breath quickened as she rolled her hips, hard and fast, feeling him tense and quiver beneath her; filling her with his hot seed and eliciting a throaty moan. Flick collapsed against his chest, fighting to catch her breath, still feeling the lingering tingles of her climax working its way through her body. Paul exhaled a shaky breath, lightly skimming his fingertips down her spine. She shuddered and softly kissed his chest before pushing herself upright, gazing down at his handsome face. She brushed a stray lock of dirty blonde hair from his face and he smiled, grazing his lips over the tips of her fingers.
"Babe?" Paul mumbled, pushing himself up onto his forearms.
"Hmmm?" she smiled, tracing languid patterns on his chest with the tips of her fingers.
"I love you," he smiled, his grey eyes staring up at her with a boyish twinkle.
"I love you too," she beamed.
"Gimme some sugar angel-face," Paul grinned, beckoning Flick towards his lips.