Trick of Time by Merrow JL

Author:Merrow, JL [Merrow, JL]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2013-01-28T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

When I woke in the morning, I didn’t recognise the room. Sunlight streamed in through the window, highlighting the worn state of the blankets but showing, too, the cheerful paper on the wall, enlivened here and there by prints that were more well-meaning than artistic. The jug on the dresser might be chipped, but it looked clean and had a jaunty design painted on the side. I stretched cramped limbs, feeling a soreness inside me that sent a thrill coursing through my body.

Jem’s eyes flickered open as I stirred. He smiled. “Thought I’d dreamed you.”

We kissed, our stubble rasping together. In spite of everything, I felt ridiculously, deliriously happy.

Jem’s eyes widened as I rolled on top of him. “Early riser, are you?” he asked with a smirk.

I chose to misunderstand him. “Give me a reason to stay in bed, then,” I teased.

“Oh, I got a reason. I got a big reason. Getting bigger all the time.” He pulled my hand down to show me just how big it was. “That reason big enough for you?”

“I think it could get bigger.” I was stroking it up and down all the time.

“And how would it do that?”

“Oh...” I pretended to think. “Maybe if I were to do this?” I rubbed my thumb over his glans. Jem gasped. “Or maybe this?”

I slung one leg over his hips, straddling him, then shifted forward until our cocks were rubbing together. I wrapped my hand around us both and carried on stroking. Jem’s eyes glazed over with pleasure.

“Or maybe,” I continued a little breathily, “I should slide down in the bed, take you in my mouth and give you a good, hard—” I didn’t get to say the last word, as Jem’s whole body convulsed, hot wetness spurting up between us. He was beautiful when he came, his eyes flicking wide just at the moment of climax as if it was something he’d never expected, his blood-red lips open and panting.

When my own orgasm came, it was almost secondary to the pleasure of watching him. Almost. I bent down to kiss him, our come smearing together, mingling between our bodies.

“You always this chipper in the morning?” Jem asked, laughing.

“Only when I wake up with you.” Right then, I didn’t care whether I ever got home again.

We cleaned up as best we could, using the cold water in the jug. Jem ran downstairs to fetch warm water, and I let him shave me with his old-fashioned cut-throat razor, visions of demon barbers dancing in my head.

“Don’t know a Mrs. Lovett, do you?” I asked.

“Don’t think so. Who’s she? Oi, hold still—I’ll nick you if you keep laughing.”

“Sorry. She’s no one. A fictional character. She made pies.”

“Ah! She wouldn’t have a gentleman friend by the name of Sweeney Todd, would she?”

“That’s the one.” I wondered what he’d make of Johnny Depp’s portrayal. Or of Helena Bonham-Carter, for that matter.

“Think I’d waste you on pie fillings? ’Sides, ain’t nobody allowed to get a taste of you but me,” he added.

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