Little Fury: Book 1 of The deadly Little Thing Trilogy
Little Fury: Chapter 27

It’s 8 p.m. I still haven’t heard from Marcus, so I text him. My phone rings, and I see it’s a video call.

“Hey,” I say as the call connects. It’s not Marcus on the other end; it’s Alexi.

“Ava! Marcus is just a little held up at the moment. We had to change my flight to a later one.”

“Why do you have his phone, Alexi?”

“Because, like I fucking told you, he’s busy at the moment.”

“Actually, you said held up. So, Alexi, what is he busy doing?”

“Not any of your fucking business.”

“You really don’t like me, do you? I’ve always kinda wondered why. Is it as simple as Marcus listening to me? Or is it that I am a woman and you have no use for us? Or maybe you’re just a small, insignificant man who feels threatened by someone like me.”

“Fuck you, you stupid cunt. Soon enough, Marcus will wake up and realize no matter how good your pussy is, you’re not worth it.”

“Hey, you may be right. That could happen. Hell, it could be happening right now. But you want to know a secret, Alexi? When men break into your home to kill you, if you shoot one in the head and blow a couple of fingers off the other, the one missing the fingers will tell you things. And if you’re really lucky, he will call you such pretty little names. Things like sweetheart and devochka.” That word lands. I see his breath catch; I see that slight tick in his jaw.

“Anyway, Alexi, let Marcus know I’m going to eat without him. Please stick him in a cab after you guys are done. Please don’t let him OD on the coke. Also, make sure he wraps his dick up if he’s going to stick it in anyone. The last thing your grandfather would want is a bastard Marcus running around.” I smile sweetly at him and end the call.

I stare at my phone for a moment and question my own words. Was my nonchalance to Marcus fucking another woman real or fake? I’m unsure. I have always been in control of my emotions, feelings and reactions. I have a great poker face. It wasn’t something I had to be taught. I wonder if I have buried too many emotions too deeply for too long, and now they’re not something I can access. I wonder how I would react if I saw him with another woman. Marcus is mine. And now with the change in our relationship he is mine in every way. But my confusion, the pause I feel myself taking is that I don’t know if I’m his, or rather I don’t know if I have, or can give myself to him like I’ve taken him for myself.

I hear a car pull up in front of the house. Glancing at the clock, I see it’s a little after 2. I get out of bed and go to the door to help him. I have no idea what condition he’s going to be in. I open the door and stand in the doorframe, leaning against it, watching the driver help a fucked-up Marcus get out of the back.

“Ma’am,” the driver nods to me as he helps Marcus to the door. “Do you want me to help you get him inside?”

“No, I’ve got him. This isn’t the first time. Thank you for bringing him home. Do you need me to sign anything?”

“Nope, already paid for.”

“Thanks again.”

He hands Marcus off to me. “Hey, baby!” He calls to me as I get my arms around his middle.

“Hey, baby. Marcus, I’m going to need you to help me get you to the bedroom, okay?”

“Yup, I can.”

“Great,” I chuckle. “Let’s go, dude.”

I don’t know how we manage it, but I get him to the bedroom and onto the bed. I get his shirt off him easily; his pants are a bit trickier, but with some assistance from the man himself, we complete that task as well.

“Ava, I didn’t feed you!”

“No, you didn’t. But it’s ok. I fed myself.”

“Dats goo.”

“It is goo.” It’s taking everything in me not to break out in laughter at him. I’m happy he’s more drunk than high. Drunk Marcus is soft and usually pretty sweet. High on coke, Marcus is not nearly as nice; high on coke, Marcus is unpredictable and violent.

“I love you, Ava.”

“I know you do. It’s sleep time now, Marcus.”

“K.”

“K,” I mimic him. I throw his clothes in the laundry in the bathroom; they reek of smoke, vodka, and weed. At least he had a fun night. I get back into bed now that he is settled and passed out.

I wake up a little later as I feel the weight in the bed shift. Marcus gets out of bed and heads into the bathroom. I drift back to sleep quickly in his absence.

I wake up suddenly to the feel of a hand on my throat. For a moment, a single heartbeat of panic engulfs me. I open my eyes, the light from the bathroom hurting them for a moment. Marcus is above me, and I quickly realize I’m in trouble. He’s squeezing harder than he ever would if this was a kink. My hands grab his, my nails digging in, trying to get him to loosen his hold.

As my eyes adjust to the light, I can see him better. One look, and I know he’s high. His pupils are nowhere near normal size. Alexi likes coke, and he has been feeding it to Marcus here and there for the last couple of years whenever they were together.

About a year ago, I went to New York with Marcus. I wanted to do some shopping and get some Christmas gifts for a few people, and since he was already going to see his family, I figured it’s always more fun to travel with a friend.

I spent very little time with them. I don’t like the Russian cousin—I never have—so I stayed busy in New York. But on our last night, Marcus convinced me to join them at a club.

It was fun until it wasn’t. Drugs, alcohol, women in tight dresses, and young men who believe they own the women on their laps are always a bad combination.

Alexi had a girl in his lap and his hand up her skirt; her boyfriend took exception to this. Fair enough, dude, some guy had his hand in your girl’s pussy right in front of you and your friends. The guy tried to take his girlfriend off Alexi’s lap, but the Russian was not going to let that happen. No, instead, he finger-fucked her in front of him, making her come, then showed the boyfriend her release on his fingers.

The guy yanked her off Alexi and then took a shot at him, landing a punch to Alexi’s jaw. Marcus reacted instantly, jumped on the guy, and beat the ever-living shit out of him. Bouncers tried to pull him off, Alexi and the other guys tried to pull him off the guy, but Marcus was high as fuck, so he felt and heard none of it. The only way we got him to stop beating the guy was by me grabbing a gun off one the Russians and clocking Marcus in the back of the head.

Now, he has one hand around my throat, and the other is trying to get my sleep shorts down.

Fuck this shit.

My vision is starting to go a little fuzzy, so I release his wrist and slap my hands on either side of his head, hard. It hurts like a mother fucker when you get a person just right on the ears. Marcus howls in pain and rolls off me. I shake my head and suck in a massive lungful of air. I scramble up and get my knees onto Marcus’s chest instantly. Using all my weight and strength to push one of my knees into his sternum. I wrap my hand around his throat.

“I will put up with a lot of shit, Marcus. I will accept the coke problem and being stood up for your fucking piece-of-shit cousin. But what I will not accept is you laying your fucking hands on me while you’re coked out of your head.” I squeeze his neck harder. “I will not accept you trying to fuck me when you have no fucking idea where you are, or who the fuck you’re trying to stick your dick into.” I squeeze tighter, seeing his face go red. “If you ever do this again, I will put a fucking bullet in your head and never look back.”

“Time to go to sleep, asshole.” When he passes out, I let go of his neck and get off his chest.

I get out of bed and head to the other side of the house. I go into Marcus’s room, close the door, lock it behind me, and pull the dresser in front of it. I don’t bother with any lights; I pull back the covers on the bed, get in, and sleep.

I wake up the next morning to Marcus knocking on the bedroom door.

“Ava?”

“Yeah?”

“Baby, I… I’m so sorry. I don’t know what the fuck happened. I have no idea how to tell you how sorry I am. Please, Baby, you must know that wasn’t me.”

“You watch the surveillance video?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you saw it all?”

“Yes.”

“How much do you remember?”

“Enough that I made myself watch the video to know what I did.”

“I’ll be out in a while, Marcus.”

“Okay,” he says and leaves the other side of the door.

I go back to sleep, waking up three hours later. I move the dresser, unlock the door and open it. I head to the kitchen, not hearing any movement. I’m surprised to see Marcus sitting at the island. His back is to me, but I see his body stiffen when he hears me enter. He turns in the chair, and I see how wrung out he looks. I see the tears in his eyes and the stains on his face.

Walking over, I take his face and make him meet my eyes. “Never again, Marcus. You want to get high with Alexi in the future, go for it. But stay at his place or a hotel. You don’t come home to me. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Once, Marcus. What you did and tried to do last night happens once. I will kill you if it happens again.” My voice is calm and quiet. “Look at me and see if what I’m telling you is the truth.”

“I know Ava. You should have killed me last night.”

“No, I shouldn’t have. Everyone makes mistakes, but you don’t get to make this one again.”

He nods and closes his eyes, more tears falling from them. I bend toward him, my lips to his, kissing him softly. He startled at my touch, and then I felt him sink into the kiss. Marcus has more than a few issues. What I’ve learned over the years is that he needs physical reassurance. I can tell him we’re good, but he won’t believe it. He needs to feel it.

I deepen the kiss, running my tongue along the seam of his lips. He opens for me, letting me run my tongue along his. I step into the space between his legs and wrap my arms around his neck. He doesn’t return the embrace, not entirely trusting yet that I forgive him and that he should accept it. I step into him more, my breasts against his chest.

I let my hand run through his hair. Finally, I feel his arms wrap around me. I remove my shirt, pressing myself into his bare chest, crushing my breasts against him. His hands tighten on my skin, and he starts to kiss me deeper.

I moan into his mouth at the feel of his tongue against mine. He loves that noise and responds with a groan of his own. I feel his cock hard against my thigh, and I reach down and slide my shorts off, letting them fall to the floor. Marcus’s hands move to my ass, gripping it. My hands slide under the waistband of his shorts, grasping his cock. I feel his hips thrust when I tighten my grip on him.

His mouth moves to my neck, and he drags his teeth over my sensitive skin, sending a wave of pleasure to my core. His fingers stroke their way down the cleft of my ass, replaceing my pussy wet and waiting for him. He slides a finger into me, and my head falls back as I gasp, feeling him push his finger further in.

“Ava.” He groans.

I release his cock and tug his shorts down. Marcus lifts himself up to help me remove them. I step on the rung of the chair he is sitting on and raise myself to straddle him. Marcus’s hands replace my hips and I place a hand on his shoulder, steadying myself; I move him to my entrance, and I sink onto him, and we both let out a long sigh.

I rise again, letting him slide out of me to the tip, and then I drop down on him again, torturously slow for both of us. I do it again, sinking onto him even more slowly this time. I hear his breath hitch the slow torture of my movements, pushing him to his breaking point. I rise again, this time staying with just his tip inside me. I clench my pussy around his tip and draw a curse out of him. It’s the only warning I get before he grabs my hips and slams me down onto him.

“Oh, fuck.” I ground out.

“Fuck baby, you grip me so well.” His hands are on my ass, lifting me off his cock only to bring me back down hard over and over again. Both of us are panting now, desperate for the other. I place my hand behind me on the counter and arch my back so he can fuck up into me, hitting that spot inside that has me begging him to make me come. He moves me on his cock as he thrusts his hips up to meet mine. The force of him slamming into me and pulling me onto him is bordering on being too much. My needy sounds are just spurring him on. “Come on my cock, baby, soak me with your cum.”

My hand goes to my breast as I watch Marcus bury himself in me over and over again. Releasing his bruising grip on my hip, he shifts one of his hands, bringing it to my pussy, replaceing my clit. “Your clit is so swollen, baby. You are going to come so fucking hard, aren’t you.” I whimper, unable to form a real word. He rubs faster and then pinching it, and I come. Marcus keeps plunging in and out of me, my orgasm pushing him over into his own.

When we finally come down, I’m physically and emotionally drained. I have no coherent thoughts, only tears. Marcus wraps me in his arms and carries me to the bedroom. He lays me in the bed, crawling in with me. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. He strokes my hair, telling me he’s sorry, loves me, and it’ll all be okay. He keeps repeating those words over and over, stroking my hair and kissing my forehead and hair. I fall asleep in his arms, tears still washing over my face.