Ilara: Chapter 22
We brought Hope home today. The doctor had declared she was well enough to come home. She’d have to go back every month to do a few days of chemo. We’d be doing that for two or three years. However, as long as I could keep bringing her home, I was happy.
The other ladies had helped me to clean and then decorate the house for Christmas. The place was beautiful. Hope had clapped her hands and smiled her biggest smile when she saw the tree and all the decorations. She’s gone all over the house, touching them. We had to tell her to be careful.
We’d still have to be cautious about letting people around her that might be sick, but home was better than the hospital. Zara said there were far fewer germs to worry about here than there. I was thankful as hell she’d be living just across the way if we needed her.
Bear had been quiet ever since Hamilton was dispatched. He told me he’d been taken care of, but he didn’t give me details. I didn’t push for them. However, I was wondering what was bothering him. After we got Hope down for the night and we were lying in bed, I decided to ask him. “Honey, you’re worrying me.”
“Why? I’m fine. My daughter’s home. My other daughter is hanging around, so we get to know each other better. I have you and a new baby coming. Why would you be worried about me?” he asked with a puzzled look on his face.
“You’ve been extra quiet and even a little withdrawn since you took care of Hamilton. Why?”
“It’s nothing, Ilara. We should get some sleep.” He rolled over to turn off the light. I put my hand on his back as he snapped it off.
“Please talk to me. I can’t stand this. Are you regretting killing him? Are you angry at me that you did it? That it’s my fault?” I asked with a quiver in my voice. What if he did?
The light snapped back on and he rolled back to face me. He had a shocked look on his face. He pulled me closer to him.
“Beloved, I don’t blame you. I never would. I hate what he did to you. I’d wish it never happened, but then I wouldn’t have met you or Hope. It sounds bad when I say that, doesn’t it? But it’s true. I wouldn’t have the love of my life and another daughter with a baby on the way if he hadn’t done what he did. You’re right, I have been quieter, but not because I killed him.”
“Then tell me why? It’s eating at you. I can see it. Remember, we’re supposed to share,” I reminded him.
He gave a great big sigh. His eyes looked clouded as he gazed into mine. “What if I do and then you think differently about me? What if you think I’m a monster?”
I sat up in shock. “Donovan, I could never think of you as a monster! What in the hell happened?”
He sat up and leaned back against the headboard. I curled up on his chest. “Outlaw and I did torture him. A lot of it was mental. I won’t tell you what we said, but he would go nuts every time we talked about you and Hope. It was more torture to him than anything physical we did to him.”
“Okay, so what has made you so upset?”
“It’s what I did at the end that wasn’t typical for me. I never told you the story of how I got the nickname Bear, did I?” I shook my head no. “It was from a story I told the guys when I joined as a prospect. As a kid, we grew up out in the woods. I was hunting from a very young age. We needed meat in the winter to survive. One winter, when I was ten years old, we were out hunting, me and my dad. We came across bear tracks.
“We weren’t going to hunt the bear, because they can be dangerous to track and kill, even though bear meat is good. What we didn’t know is he’d been circling around and came across our scent. The bear was following us. I don’t think at first he was doing it to kill us. He was curious. Anyway, when he came charging out of the woods, we shot at him. It took several bullets to bring him down and he almost got us first. When he was down and we knew he was really dead, we skinned him and then we cut him up to haul the meat home.”
He took a deep breath. “While we worked, my dad told me a story of this frontiersman, who’d been a bear hunter and how when he’d kill one, he’d cut out the heart. I liked the story and so, dad helped me to cut out the bear’s heart.” He stopped talking.
“What does this story have to do with why you’re so withdrawn, Donovan? Tell me,” I urged him.
“Because when Hamilton said something about you and Tarin that really pissed me and Outlaw off, I attacked him and I told him this story. Then I cut out his fucking heart while he watched. He saw his own heart in my hand as he died. What kind of man does that make me, Ilara?” he whispered.
I couldn’t say that what he’d just told me didn’t shock me. My stomach turned over at the thought, but it didn’t at all make me think of him as a monster. To me, it showed me something else entirely. I pressed my hands to both of his cheeks.
“It tells me that you’re a man who will do anything to see justice served and to protect those you love. He was the monster for the things he did to me and those other women. He was never going to see what he did was wrong. Prison wouldn’t have changed him. You and your brothers took a dangerous rapist off the streets permanently, so me and other women could sleep at night. It tells me I have the strongest man in the world,” I whispered, as I gently kissed him.
A growl tore from his chest as he took over the kiss. He kissed me like he was starved. I grew breathless and wet as he kissed me silly. When he took time to breathe, he ripped back the covers and threw them to the bottom of the bed. We were both dressed in as little as possible. We both liked to sleep naked, but with the chance of Hope coming to our room, we kept on some clothes.
He tore off my sleeping shirt and worked off his shorts. He tossed them to the floor. His cock was hard and he was breathing hard. He slid his hand between my legs and felt my pussy. I was slick with my juices. He groaned. “I can’t wait, Ilara. I need you this second. On your hands and knees.”
I rolled over and got up on my hands and knees. I heard him rustling around and then the bed dipped. He was behind me. His hands pushed my thighs apart. His fingers teased my clit. I shivered. Then he was pushing onto me and I cried out. God, he always felt like he might not fit and he stretched me, but I loved it.
His hard cock pumped in and out of my pussy like a steel pipe. He went faster and pounded deeper with each thrust of his hips. I was panting and trying not to scream as my orgasm started to grow. It was going to be spectacular, I knew it. My damn toes were tingling.
He moved it up a notch when he leaned over my back and panted softly in my ear. “I’m taking this ass tonight, but not until you come and squeeze my cock with this pussy first.” I cried out and shook as I came and came. The memory of how he feels when his fingers and the plug were in my ass, sent me over.
He was groaning as I came, but he didn’t stop moving in and out of me. When I was sure I couldn’t move, he pulled out of me and then he was pressing into my ass. I wailed as he did it. It burned and it hurt, but the pleasure underneath it all made it worth it. He didn’t hurt me by slamming it inside of me. He slowly worked himself inside. He dribbled lube on his length to help ease it in.
When he was finally all the way in, I looked at him over my shoulder. He was looking so turned on. I knew he was fighting not to come. I licked my lips. “Why don’t you pound my ass and fill it with that cum you didn’t give my pussy, Donovan. Let me feel how much you love my ass.”