Van by Sawyer Bennett
My lips start to curve upward, but she's not done. "Sociopaths have little to no remorse...no conscience, and Mr. Turner, I'll say it again, the fact you're struggling so mightily with this and the fact you're so weighed down by your father's sins shows your conscience is completely intact."
"Other things," she continues to recite. "Lack of insight. Inability to motivate. Lying. Poor judgment."
"Lack of ability to love," I throw out at her. "Impersonal sex. Trivializing intimacy."
She shakes her head so hard her hair flies. "No. That's not you. You love Etta. Van...sex is not impersonal between us. You might hold your emotions in reserve, but, baby, I've never had a more personal connection to someone the way I do with you when we're fucking."
My gaze drops to the floor. I expect she wanted to use something different there, like "making love," but she knows I'd scoff at that. It's amazing the uncanny insight she has into me. Simone knows how to handle me, and the only other person in my life who knows how to do that is Etta.
"Van," Simone murmurs, and I look back to her.
"Can I come over there with you?" she says with a nod of her head to my end of the couch.
I want to say no because I don't think I can handle her empathy right now, but instead I find my head bobbing up and down.
She leans over and places her beer on the floor. She pushes forward and crawls across the couch to me. In any other scenario, it would be sexy as fuck, but that look in her eyes tells me she's not coming to me to give me an orgasm.
She's coming to tell me something so important to her she wants to do it looking straight into my eyes.
When she reaches me, she turns and puts herself in my lap. I rest a hand on her thigh while her arms curve over my shoulders. Her face is inches from mine and I'm staring into her sweet, tender gaze.
"I understand your worries," she says softly. "But dig deep, Van. I don't think it's really why you close yourself off."
My eyelids drop, closing her from my sight for a moment so I can think. I conjure up my father, as he smirked at me from the other side of the Plexiglas, wanting me to believe we had more in common than not. I try to recall how I truly felt as I pushed up out of the chair and left him behind yelling obscenities.
And I remember...I felt done. The information he provided me didn't really add to my fears. If anything, my instinct said he was just getting his kicks from trying to inflict pain on someone in the only way his limited, dying body was able to.
Yes, I knew that deep down. I'm in no danger of being like him. The only danger to me is staying in the mold I put myself in.
My eyes open slowly and Simone is filling my vision, waiting patiently.
"Kids can be vicious," I start by saying, and she tilts her head slightly as she listens. "When I went back to school in the fall after he was convicted, the other kids had already labeled me. 'Little Arco,' 'killer,' 'rapist'...those were some of the more popular ones. I was horrified they'd think that about me. I tried to defend myself, but it's a weak claim that you're not like your father when you sat every day behind him at trial. My mom wanting to support my dad labeled me as a sympathizer to him, merely because she made me sit beside her."
"You heard things that no eight-year-old should ever hear," she murmurs.
"Yeah, I'm not even sure those kids really even know what it all meant," I tell her. "They were probably listening to their parents discuss it, or saw it on the news, and they found a way to bully me with it. I came home with a new bruise or split lip almost every day from the fights I'd get in just trying to defend my own name. But that wasn't the worst, because only a handful of kids did that. They were just assholes. The worst was being ignored or shunned because people didn't know what to say to me. I lost all my friends. No one wanted their kid to play with the boy whose dad was a killer and whose mom committed suicide. Etta tried to have a birthday party for me and not one child showed up. Teachers treated me with kid gloves. I was rarely called on in class because maybe they thought I didn't want to be in the spotlight. No one asked me how I was feeling outside of Etta, so I didn't know it was appropriate to be angry. I wasn't even blaming my parents at that point for my troubles. It was very confusing."
"And Etta decided to just let you start over again," Simone says.
"New name, new city, new school," I say with quiet reflection. "It was supposed to be a fresh start, but I kept hiding. I never shared with one person in my life who I was or what I went through. I think Etta and I got so caught up in running from the notoriety of it that I wasn't allowed to really confront it."
"But counseling?"
"Yeah...it was good. Fine. I was able to talk about some things, but maybe it wasn't enough. Or maybe I didn't talk about the right things with the right people. What if I'd just confided in a friend, and that friend validated that I was nothing like my father? I was so afraid of being labeled again, it just became easier to stay withdrawn."
"It lessened your risk of further pain," she concludes.
I nod, giving her thigh a squeeze. "Yes, I had some fears about the type of person I was, but my lack of connection to people isn't like Arco's on a cellular level. It's from the fallout of what he did."
Simone smiles at me, bringing her palms to my face. "There you go. What happened to you was a travesty, but you and Etta did the best you could."
Before I can say anything, she's putting her lips on mine, the sweetest kiss she's ever given me, and I feel it from the tip of my head down to my toes.
To my surprise, she deepens the kiss, her fingers going into my hair to pull me to her. I feel instant arousal, the heavy conversation melting away and my need for her becoming my sole focus. I break the kiss by picking her up, turning her in my lap so she straddles me. I can't help the groan that tears free when she grinds down onto my erection.
"Let's take this into the bedroom," she whispers in my ear.
Chapter 20
Simone
Van responds to my request by one powerful push off the couch. I cling to him but it's unnecessary, as his big hands go to my ass to support my weight.
I nuzzle his neck as he strides back to his bedroom, then I bite his ear. He pinches my ass in return and I smile. Despite the intimacy we just shared on the couch expressed through words, he's still my dominant man.
Van kicks his bedroom door shut as we enter, and then he drops me on the bed. No soft laying of my body upon the mattress, but I don't even get a chance to grin at him because he's covering me with his own.
His pelvis presses into mine and his arms go under my back. He holds me tight while he just kisses me slowly, but with absolute possession. He's in no hurry, and I know he's going to make me work for an orgasm. It's okay...I love his sweet tortures.
Time seems to freeze as we just do nothing but kiss. He doesn't even grind into me, even though his touch makes me so wild I do my own hip rotations trying to create friction.
I can feel his lips stretch into a smile against mine, and he mutters into my mouth, "Slow down there, Shiny. We'll get there."
"Not before I die of frustration," I grumble.
His laugh fills my mouth, and he starts kissing me all over again. I nearly cry in relief when finally he slips his hand under my shirt, caressing my ribs before palming a breast. My nipple hardens before he even pays any attention to it, but it's come to anticipate a lot where Van's concerned. He loves my breasts, spends an inordinate amount of time with them, and I know he'll get there eventually.
My hands go to the bottom of Van's T-shirt and I try to yank it up. He doesn't help me, though, keeping one hand securely attached to my breast and his body pressing me down.
This drives me a little nutso, so I bite his lip. He jerks back, licks his lower lip, and stares down at me with a twinkle in his eye. "Going to make you pay for that."
"Fine," I huff. "Can we just at least get naked?"
His response is to push up to straddle my body. He whips his shirt off and my mouth waters at his fabulous chest.
"Not yet," he says, then pulls me up to a sitting position with a hand behind my neck. Before I know it, my shirt is gone along with my bra, and then his hand is on my chest, pushing me back down.
He sits on top of me, staring at my breasts for a moment before he covers them with his hands. Squeezing, he murmurs, "I love your tits. Beautiful, just like you."
I moan as he pinches my nipples, causing my hips to buck. He ignores that, watching his hands work me for what seems like hours.
Just when I'm ready to scream in frustration, Van stuns the hell out of me by freeing his cock from his shorts instead. Moving up my body, he spreads his legs and rests his cock in the middle of my chest. His hands press into the mattress by my head and he orders me, "Squeeze your breasts around me."
"Oh God," I say, completely turned on by this, and my palms go to the sides of my boobs to do just as he asks. There are many downsides to having large tits, but this is not one of them.
Van groans as he pulls his cock back through the channel of my cleavage and pushes forward again. "Dreamed of fucking these tits," he groans. "Even before I first kissed you, I dreamed of it."
God, he looks so beautiful like that...looming over me, his cock buried in my breasts, and his face completely awash with pleasure.
But then he's gone and scrambling down my body. His feet hit the floor and he's finally getting naked before he's tearing the rest of my clothes off.
I expect him to dive for a condom, but once again he surprises me by just crawling back up my body and covering me with his warmth. As he stares down at me, I can feel my clit thumping against his cock as it nestles against me, and I feel feverish all over from the insane need I have for him.
Van's mouth comes to mine again, and he gives me another deep, hard kiss. But lazy all the same, meaning he wasn't stripping us naked because he just had to be inside of me. He did it because he knew his naked body would drive me even crazier.
I let my legs fall open and wiggle my hips. I rub my pussy on his cock, and I'm rewarded with a grunt of approval, but he just continues kissing me.
Pushing on his chest, I manage to break the kiss. Van's eyes are dark and needful, but I also see patience within. I, on the other hand, am the least patient person in the world. I go after what I want, when I want it. Van knows this about me.
"Van?" I ask softly, my fingers pressing into his chest muscles. "Do you trust me?"
I know he wasn't expecting this question as he blinks in surprise and says, "I've told you my deepest, darkest secret. I think it's fair to say I trust you."
I nod in understanding. I expected this answer. "And I trust you. So if you were to tell me right now it would be okay for us to have sex without a condom, I'd take that to mean you were clean as a whistle."
If I thought Van's eyes were heated before, they flare into a blazing inferno of lust.
"And since you trust me," I continue, "I'll merely say that I'm spick-and-span too, and on the pill to boot."
Van's lips curve upward but he just stares at me, considering my offer for us to take this to a higher level. A level on which I've never been with a man before.
Because he's not a man of many words, he doesn't answer me.
He shows me.
Flexing his hips, his cock slides back a few inches, then he presses forward slightly so the tip rests right at my wet entrance.
His gaze locks with me for a moment, his face dips so his lips touch mine.
Then oh my God...he starts to slide into me and I get dizzy from the implications, the feel, and the raging need that's now coursing through my body.
Van hums low in his throat as he gives me inch after inch of his beautiful cock. My body takes him easily, stretching to accommodate his length, and my wetness allows him smooth entry until he's lodged in tight.
"Fuck that feels good," he mutters against my mouth.
But I can't even formulate words. I make an ugly grunting, moaning noise, and my head spins again as he starts to pull out. I let out a whimper of dismay as he exits almost to the tip, but then he's thrusting slowly back into me.
His movements are beautiful and languid. There's a fluidity to the way I undulate below him.
Van goes down to just one elbow, and with this other hand he takes mine from his shoulder. He laces our fingers together and then presses our joined hands into the pillow by my head. My fingers squeeze reflexively and his grip tightens even further.
Van's face hovers over me as he pulls away from our kiss. His eyes bore into mine with such intensity that the combination of his look and the feel of his bare cock working my pussy slowly starts an orgasm curling low in my belly.
My eyes flutter closed but pop back open when Van's grip tightens even more and his hips punch hard so he drives deep.
"Eyes on me, Simone," he growls. "I don't want to miss a fucking thing on your face when you come."
"Okay," I gasp as I raise my legs to curl them around the backs of his legs.
Van staring at me, thrusting slow but deep while he holds my hand tight, is almost too precious for me to bear. He's fully connected to me in every sense, and I am grateful for his patience. He wants to draw this out and let me savor this very unusual but beautiful side of him.
Slow, measured strokes, in and out.
Rhythm deliberately set to slow boil.
I can do nothing but concentrate on the feel of him, which includes the weight of his eyes on mine.
Van Turner is making love to me.
When my orgasm starts to release, it sweeps through me just as slow and luxurious as the way Van is fucking me. Rippling through my body, spreading outward to reach my fingertips and toes. Even my lips tingle with the sensation of what I can only call a full-body climax. I never let my gaze drop, holding his stare. He watches me come undone and he listens to the long moan I release, his expression one of both awe and triumph.
With every stroke Van continues to make within me, the ripples continue...seemingly never ending. They go on and on and on, and then Van's jaw tightens. His body goes still for just the barest of moments, then he groans and starts to shudder. His climax is powerful and I can practically feel it transfer through to my body.
"Simone," he growls as his hips start moving again, grinding out the remainder of his release. His hand is clenching mine so tight my fingertips are numb, but I don't ever want him to let go.
After a few moments, Van stops moving and drops his head so his face presses into my neck. I wrap my arms and legs tighter around him, and we just lay like that...quietly.
I don't feel the need to say anything to him. I believe he understands that I'll bear his secret right beside him, and that nothing he said is going to chase me away. On the contrary, I think he even gets that I'm going to stick tighter to him.
Yes. Van is a smart guy and he knows my heart is involved. He knew it was involved before I found his shoebox of history, which I truly believe is why he didn't fight me too much on sharing his story with me.
But I also know Van. Despite the beauty that we just shared, he is out of his element. Emotions and feelings are things he shows only sparingly. He's not used to sharing pieces of himself with anyone other than his aunt, and I have to imagine he's feeling a little raw and unsteady right now.
That's okay.
I've got him.
I've totally got him.
Van rolls to the side, wrapping his arms around me. He pulls me in tight to his chest and presses his lips to my forehead. I almost want to cry from this sweet gesture, something I never thought I'd experience from a man such as him.
"What do you want to do today?" Van finally asks, and I'm pleased that his voice sounds light.
No awkwardness or hesitancy.
He's going to let me share this with him, and that relieves me greatly. I just don't know if he wants me to be anything more.
"Well,
"I don't know if I have anything in the tank after that," he mutters.
Chuckling, I burrow in closer to him. "That was...um...different."
"Fucking mind blowing." His voice is low and rumbling, and causes another ripple of pure pleasure to flow through me just from his reverent tone.
Yes. That is exactly what it was, but I don't say anything. Van is a man who releases his feelings in measured increments. He's just had his greatest secret exposed by me, shared the dirty details, and then had what I consider to be a life-changing sexual experience for both of us. He doesn't need me pressing anything at him right now.
I think what he needs is probably my quiet attention and a willingness to let him settle into this the best way that he can.
I know this also means that he may not be able to move one step forward in this relationship. Just because he exposed his demons doesn't mean he's over them. If anything, I fear that they may cause him to withdraw a little from me, since this is all so new and very weird for him.
Whatever he chooses to give me, I'll take it and wait him out. When I'm focused on the long game and not immediate gratification, I've actually got the patience of a saint, or so I've been told. My heart has already given its allegiance to Van. If he's got more in him to give, then I'm going to be there ready for him to give it. If he's got the ability to accept more from me, then whatever he wants will be his.
Until then...
"How about we compromise," Van says lightly. "Let's stay in bed all day and watch movies. Or the couch. Order pizza and just chill out."
"So no sex," I tease him.
Van's hand drops to my ass and he gives me a sharp swat. "Of course there will be sex, Shiny. It just won't be our primary focus. Got me?"
"Got you," I say with a laugh, and I already know that today is just going to be one that lives in my memory forever. It was the day I saw the real Van and hopefully started a new path that we can travel together.
Chapter 21