literature

Heirloom Ch 11

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At last, inspiration and time to write.
~
Thirteen months and a day in. It was the morning after their Spain trip, their little club journey. Their dance both on the floor and between the sheets. Trinity was the first one to wake up and remember everything. Though her head was slightly fuzzy from the alcohol and excitement last night, her memory was sharp.
And oh, how sharp it was when she remembered what Monty looked like under these covers. She was on her side, looking at the monkey master on his back. The sheets covered just up to his stomach, a fact that made her blush. When she shifted, she flinched. Up until last night, she had been a virgin…
And that’s when it hit her.
She slept with Monkey Fist.
…and enjoyed it.
Trinity sat up and felt slightly sore, though it wasn’t terribly noticeable if she ignored it. Her body still felt his lips and teeth on certain parts, a sensation she blamed her memory for. She knew there were at least a handful of hickeys and bruises – and not from fighting either.
“Nngh, morning.” Monty’s growl broke the morning silence. She jumped slightly and turned to look, the sheets threatening to slip off her. Her hand went to catch them at her chest, her eyes wide and curious.
Trinity cleared her throat before nodding. “Morning.” She sounded unsure. And perhaps she was. It was one thing to kiss him, that meant nearly nothing but the need to defy the norm – and her feelings – and, too, they lived together for more than a year. But to have sex…she wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
When Monkey Fist’s eyes opened, unphased by the sunlight coming in, he stared right up at the girl. Much like his smirk, his eyes had a gleam of arrogance and satisfaction. He scratched his chest before rolling onto his side, propped up by his arm. “Are you alright?”
Alright from alcohol, the club, or the sex? If she said she liked it, would they do it again? What would it mean then? Would it be just another way to break a norm, something that felt good but meant nothing emotionally? Or did it mean she was in love with him, he had her wrapped around him? What if he didn’t feel the same way – whatever way that was? If she liked him and he didn’t, or if he liked her and she didn’t. Was it a one-time thing? How awkward if so, being her first and last time!
Trinity’s face must have looked as distraught and conflicted as she felt, for Monty reached out and rest his hand on her forearm. “Trin…it’s okay.” He sounded soothing but not overbearingly so. “As you said last night, it doesn’t mean we’re in love. There are no expectations or requirements, no pressure.”
He sat up fully and ran his hand up her back; to his delight, she shivered. He kept his hand at her shoulder, spotting the necklace that was still on. He had to resist the urge to grin, remembering how many times that lost contact with her flesh. “Do you feel any different?” To specify, he tugged at the necklace.
Trinity looked down and quickly hugged the blanket to herself. “Oh, the necklace.” She blushed vividly, knowing without looking that Monty was snickering. “I…I’m not sure. Guess I’d have to move around and test my reflexes. Either way, it’ll take a couple days for the necklace to give me power again.”
Quite abruptly, she found Monty’s body on her and her own against the bed. His hands had pinned hers above her head and despite there being a sheet between them, she felt his body heat. Trinity inhaled sharply before starting to struggle, growling. “Damn, alright I guess I do feel human again.”
When she had stopped, Monty stared down at her with his wild hair even messier – if possible. His leg was between hers and their lips inches away. She shuddered to see a certain look in his eyes, a gleam of need. That and, well, she felt his ‘need’ against her thigh. “There are,” his husky voice startled her, “many positions other than the ones we tried last night.” He was asking permission.
Trinity swallowed thickly, feeling the sluggish cloud of lust take over bit by bit. She went back to what he said, about them not being in love…as she had stated before. But…
“What if we are in love?” It came out no more than a squeak, but he heard it.
To his credit, he didn’t shy away or turn his nose up at it. Instead, he stared into her eyes while his thumb rubbed circles on her wrist. “If we are,” he spoke slowly and deliberately, “then we are. And if we aren’t, we aren’t. Our deal still stands.”
“And…and if it’s…one-sided?” The love, that was.
Monty parted his lips but didn’t speak just yet. Why? Before she could ponder it, he answered, “The deal, as always, is in your hands, Princess.”
Then it clicked. Trinity felt secure in her decision, past and present, for he was a man of his word. She wouldn’t lose him until she wanted – or needed – to. And that little bit of power allowed her not to question herself once more. So she leaned forward and captured his lips, her hips moving against his with sudden want.
So much for seeing the city…
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