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Broken Chains

Chapter 7

Emily toddled up to him, dragging her favorite blanket behind her when he stepped back in the door. "Daddee!"

"Hey, Princess!" He picked her up and cuddled her, took a deep breath of the clean baby smell. "Where’s Mommy?"

"Mommee!" the baby said, pointing toward the kitchen.

Casey looked up and smiled. She was just finishing Emily’s bottle. "So, did you get them back without killing them?" Her eyes danced, and her cheek twitched.

He laughed. "Came close to dropping them off at the firing range," he replied.

She giggled. Her smile brightened as they went into the bedroom. She leaned back against Daniel, waited for Emily to crawl into her arms. The baby took time to hug her Daddy before settling against her Mommy. "I do so love this," Casey sighed happily.

"Me too, babe."

"I had forgotten how…mean…she could be," she said after a few minutes of peaceful silence.

"I don’t know how you managed to stay so sweet, and so full of life and trust."

"Grandma Rose. If not for her…" she shook her head.

"We should put your Grandma Rose up for Sainthood."

She giggled. "I like that idea. I don’t know what she would think of it. She’d probably find the whole idea hilarious." She rubbed Emily’s cheek with one finger, trying to wake her enough to finish her bottle. "Daniel, about the money-"

"Angel, you don’t owe them one red cent."

"I know. But…I can afford it, I have money saved up. I mean, I can’t pay the entire bill, but I can help. It’s…well, it’s the right thing to do.  Frank did his best to help me, when he could."

Daniel kissed her cheek. "You amaze me, Angel. You give so much, even to those who don’t deserve the kindness. Okay, but I set out the terms of the deal, agreed?"

She nodded. Casey knew that if allowed to, Helen would continue to demand money from her. Daniel would be able to stop that from happening. She waited for him to move out from behind her, and lift Emily into his arms. She slid from the bed and followed him, helped him tuck their baby girl into her bed.

She turned off the living room light, felt his hands on her waist as they walked toward the bedroom. Once there, she turned and put her arms around his neck. "I need to hold you," she said softly.

"I need to hold you too, babe," he replied. He lowered his head, his lips claiming hers, his hands moving up and down her ribcage. He felt her arch toward him, her body begging for his touch. He finally cupped her breasts, rolling his thumbs back and forth over the hard nipples.

He pulled away long enough to tug her tee shirt off, then let his lips find hers again. His fingers made quick work of her bra, it fell to the floor beside her shirt.

Her hands were on his shoulders, pulling him closer, one slid up onto his head, her fingers filled themselves with his hair. His hands molded her breasts, his fingers teased and pulled at her nipples. She moved her hands to the front of his shirt, fumbled with the buttons, finally managed to unbutton it. She pushed it from his shoulders. Her fingers caressed his bare chest, rubbed his flat nipples, moved back to his shoulders.

He sat down on the side of the bed, pulled her between his legs, began to suckle on her sweet nipples. His hands held, massaged, touched her firm breasts. She held his head with both hands, shoving her body harder against his face. He gently nipped at her warm skin, gave a smile when he heard her gasp. One hand was working on the snap of her jeans. Once undone, he slid the zipper all the way down, slipped his fingers inside to caress the hot, wet flesh. He used both hands to pull her jeans down, let her step out of them, returned his mouth to her breasts. He slid his fingers between her thighs, began to tease her. Her breath was coming in rapid gasps.

"Let me worship you," she said softly, her head thrown back as he continued to suckle at her breasts.

He pushed her away far enough so that he could stand up. She had her hands on the waistband of his jeans, had them unfastened and to his knees before he could think about it. He pulled them the rest of the way off, then stretched out on the bed. "Let me worship you too, Angel," he said softly.

She settled herself over him, took his rigid shaft into her mouth, felt his tongue caressing her, tasting her. It became a contest of love, of control, each trying to bring the other to completion before reaching their own.

"In you babe, now," he whispered hoarsely. She smiled, declared herself the winner. She rolled onto her back, he was over her and in her before she had time to grab a pillow. He pulled her legs up, held them close to her shoulders.

"Oh, god, that feels so good," she moaned, feeling him go deeper into her body with each thrust.

"I know, Angel, I feel it too," he replied breathlessly. He continued to thrust and grind his hips against her.

She began to whimper, her thighs quivered against him.

"Give it to me babe. Come for me Angel," he told her. He was rewarded when she began to cry out, arching her back as much as she could, her arms holding him prisoner against her.

"Love me, Daniel, let me feel you throb inside me," she begged, her fingers kneading the muscles of his back.

Her words fanned the flames that raged in him, set his very soul on fire. With a cry and a shudder he raced over the edge, filled her warm well with all that he had. "Love you, Angel," he whispered, trying to catch his breath.

"Love you, sweetheart," she replied.

He rolled to his back, held her tightly in the sweet afterglow of their lovemaking. His hand moved up and down her back. He tried not to think about the following day. He didn’t think he could spend an entire day with that…bitch.

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