Antidote by LC Lehesaho

41

"I love you so, so much, Cobra."

Tiger brushes the escaped strand from my face while hovering on top of me on the Explorer's back seat. I caress the tight muscles on his back and can't help but be captivated by his beauty. I've wanted to scream at him to fuck me already for minutes, but instead I've restrained myself from hurrying him. Tiger has been kissing me so tenderly, I didn't even know he could be so gentle.

Especially when the position he’s in must be pretty uncomfortable for someone his size. Even I can't lay straight on the back seat, so I don't know how he has the strength to keep his stance. He's strong, but it's the strength of his nerves that's more stunning.

"I love you too," I tell him breathlessly, lifting my ass a little to hint at what I want. He just keeps thrusting his hips slowly, sliding his hard dick against my dripping wet slit. A low hum comes out of my parted lips as I writhe beneath him like I’m possessed. I'm so needy that I want to cry a little.

I want him to fill me up.

Instead of doing so, Tiger slides his hand under my hoodie and pulls my bra cup under my breast. My eyes flutter closed, and my back arches to bring it closer to his touch when he finally starts to play with it. Tiger is everywhere simultaneously—making me whimper—but not inside me.

"Please," I gasp, sinking my nails into his back and bucking my hips against him because I can't fucking wait anymore. "Stop teasing me, Tiger."

I feel his breathing against my lips, but I can't open my eyes while riding the wave of pleasure he gives me.

"I'm not teasing you, baby," he says softly and brushes my lips with his. "I just don't want this to end, 'cause you're so mesmerizing. You should see yourself." He grinds his hips against me with a little bit more pressure, and a long gasp escapes from my lips from the sensation.

"You're a goddess, Cobra."

In a hoodie, with a still slightly swollen nose, panting in the back seat of an SUV—sure I am.

"Open your eyes, baby girl," he whispers to my lips, and I do as he says.

Tiger's handsome face is inches away from mine, illuminated only by the moon, which glows through the windshield. There's a genuine smile playing on his lips, dimples flashing at me, and dark eyes looking almost black with the lack of light.

He is the most exquisite thing I've ever seen.

"I promise I'll never hurt you again," Tiger breathes, and at that, he pushes inside me, inch by inch. Giving me time to adjust because for fuck's sake, he is big. Our angry hate fuck didn't give me time to realize it before because my body was already a train wreck before it happened, but...

The long moan I let out unites with his low groan as he stretches me to the limits. It feels heavenly. His other hand keeps kneading my breast, rolling my nipple, like he’s making sure I stay on edge all the time.

Tiger moves slowly back and forth, so slow that I didn't even know it was possible to get that much pleasure with so little effort.

I can't stop humming and purring against his lips, my fingers digging into his broad back, as an overwhelming sensation of bliss builds up inside me.

He pushes himself up a little bit and his hand leaves my chest, picking my leg up he places it over his shoulder. My world is about to explode, the heat is igniting inside me so rapidly that I'm ready to combust.

Tiger smiles wider as I moan out his name, getting closer to my release.

"Is it good, baby?" he asks, voice hoarse.

I hum my answer, digging my nails into his bicep, while my brows furrow as I try to keep myself conscious and not to pant myself into oblivion.

"I'm not hurting you?" Tiger tilts his head, now looking a bit worried.

"God, no," I moan, cupping his cheek with my other hand. Takes everything in me to focus enough to form actual words. "You're perfect."

He smiles and keeps fucking me with this slow pace. My entire body shivers from the inside out, and when I feel him getting closer to his release, I can't hold on any longer. An elongated cry of pleasure, including his name and prayers to God, rises from my throat as I come, kicking him over the edge with me.

His entire body quivers as he fills me up with a low, vibrating groan.

As I watch him taking support from the front seat with one hand—the corded muscles on his arm shimmering with sweat—and another one hugging my leg over his shoulder, I know that I made the right call.

Finally.

Tiger's been waiting for me for years.

I've been too scared to answer his call.

But it's always been us.

Tiger is my everything, and if I don't stand my ground for him, then I might as well be dead. I will fight for what I love.

I am my father's daughter, after all.

"It's me," I say, knocking on the door again because I'm not getting an answer. "I have breakfast. Please, watch cartoons with me, Anthony."

Seconds pass before I hear footsteps from the other side. The door opens, only a little, and two dark wells stare back at me. I swallow, keeping the smile on my face.

"See, Frosted Flakes." I lift the tray with two bowls, cereal, and milk. Cajoling him to let me in.

"Y-you alone?" he says in a raspy tone, way raspier than a fifteen-year-old boy should have. It's not the same way my brothers' voices break, this is something else, but I don't dare ask what.

I nod. "Yeah, just me."

The door closes, and I hear the safety lock opening, which Dad installed himself the day he brought Anthony home. Two months ago. He still hasn't stepped out of this room, even though he has free will to do whatever he wants.

So... I come here every day. If he doesn't come to me, I'll go to him.

The door opens up, only a couple of inches. I know Anthony is not behind it anymore. I push it open, slowly, and know better than to look at him yet. He doesn't like it—I can sense it from him. The way he sinks into his hoodie; wraps his arms around himself and looks around like he’s looking for a way out is a clear sign.

So, I'll just close the door behind me with my butt and walk to the light gray couch, placing the tray on the coffee table. I turn the TV on, picking Ducktales for us and sink to the other end of the couch, crossing my legs in front of me.

From the corner of my eye, I see him standing beside the dresser, arms crossed over his chest again. His dark eyes are watching me under the hood of his black hoodie, but like always, he doesn't say a word. Not yet.

Yesterday the time was sixteen minutes, a speed record so far, but on the first days he actually let me in, he didn't speak. On the fifth day, he talked to me after I had sat here for two hours and twenty-three minutes.

But that is the reason why I don't pour the cereal right away, it gets soft before he comes to eat.

There are paintings all over the room, sketches made with charcoal, some of them made with a black marker. They're all extremely beautiful in their own way, but... all of them make my chest tighten because of their darkness. Dad has taken me on 'cases' with him, so I've seen death, but... these are dark, even for me.

I think it's his way of coping.

Whatever it is he is coping with.

I've only seen one mark, the scar from a rope or something, on his neck from under the hoodie, but something tells me that's not the only mark on him. No one else has seen anything either, because Dad and I are the only ones he lets in.

Scooping the cereal in my mouth, I keep my eyes on the TV, but I see him taking a step closer. Then another.

I pull the new pack of charcoals from the pocket of my flannel pants. "Here. I thought you might need more." I place them on the couch next to me without looking at him.

Anthony stays quiet.

But then... "T-thank you."

My heart swells in my chest. "You're welcome."

Takes a couple more minutes until he moves next to the couch. I place my bowl on the table and make him a bowl too, handing it to him. Anthony takes it and slowly sits on the other end of the couch. We eat in silence for a moment until he speaks.

"Your Dad said that..." he swallows like speaking is somehow hurting his throat. "I need to choose a new name."

Like always at this point, when he gets to the couch, the stuttering has ended.

"Oh, yeah? What do you have in mind?" I ask, all casually, and scoop more cereal into my mouth.

"Nothing."

A giggle escapes from me. "That's a start."

He falls quiet again, but I'm not concerned. It happens all the time.

The series changes on the TV and the silence lingers longer between us.

"Cobra," Anthony says, just loud enough for me to hear it.

"Yeah?"

"Can you help me with it?"

My smile widens. "I'd like to." I slowly turn my eyes to meet his because I know he's watching me. "Would you like to have a name like ours?"

His stunningly beautiful eyes narrow with an unspoken question, so I continue. "We're all beasts."

Anthony thinks about it for a second before nodding.

"Okay, let me think." I look around the room, going through names in my head. My searching stops when the cereal package catches my eye. "Has anyone ever called you Tony?"

"Yeah."

I look at him. "I think you should be Tiger."

He does something I've never seen him do before. He smiles. A genuine smile spreads across his face, forming cute dimples in his cheeks, and it's the most captivating thing I've ever seen.

I think I'm in love.