Not broken, just bent | By : soodohnimh Category: 1 through F > Dexter Views: 7827 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Dexter and I am making no money or profit from this story. |
This follows "And I hate you for it", but I don't know if it really matters. Mostly just a PWP. A smutlet. By soodohnimh. NOT BROKEN, JUST BENT It isn't two minutes since Briggs left the motel and I hear the soft knocking at the door. I knew he would come. I wonder if he tailed me all night and waited for Briggs to leave. I barely had time to set my bag down and turn on the only light in the room and catch my breath. I knew he'd come to me, so while we'd been out, I'd threw back a few drinks for courage. Good scotch. Not too much because I knew he'd want to talk, but my lips felt a bit numb. Funny *him* wanting to talk. So many times I'd talk my fucking head off to him, hoping that he'd let me know what he's thinking, but it never happened… until now. Now, he wants to talk. Now, he won't leave me alone even though I've done my best to keep him the fuck away from me, to repulse him. Now, fucking now, he really knows how much I want him and he's coming to me. Coming to me after I felt how much he wanted me. Fuck balls, he was big. Earlier when I reached for his crotch, I was hoping to finally get him to get out of the store so that he wouldn't ruin the case. But instead of him pushing me away, he was hard. Hard from what I said to him. Size doesn't mean everything. Lundy was the best lay I'd had, believe it or not, and he was average. But Lundy knew what he as doing, as if he knew me, really knew me. Anton loved me; Quinn did anything he could to please me. The only man that was a comparison to Dexter was Rudy…Brian…whatever. Brian was large. I guess it makes sense since they're brothers. Christ knew that I'd kill Brian again if he weren't already dead. I hated him for how he made me feel, and then I found out what he was. Shit, I guess that it's happening again. I recovered from Brian, but even though I knew what he was, for months after he was dead I still missed how he fucked me. He had a beautiful cock and he worked me hard, just how I like it. It really fucked me up. But God help me, Dexter felt bigger. I had about three seconds to touch him while we were standing together, but he was definitely into what I was doing and saying to him. Thinking about it now as I kicked off my Keds as I went to the door, I could feel my face and chest flush, and not from the scotch. Aside from today in the grocery, I hadn't seen Dex in a long time. I know I'm not ready for it now, but he's pushing it. There's no where to go now and with a cleansing breath, I open the door. Turning around I walk back to the middle of the room and look back at him, hands on my hips. He comes in quietly. He's always quiet. I can hear the neighbor's TV louder than his movements. He locks the door and leans back on it, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't speak. He's looking around at the pig sty of my room. A car door slams in the distance. The silence between us is expanding, filling the room. It feels hard to breathe and I can feel my heart start to race. "What?" I ask him when he doesn't start talking. "What the fucking fuck?" "You don't want to see me." he says softly. His voice is deep and gravelly, as if he's been yelling. He sounds dejected and confident at the same time. Duplicitous. That's what he is, duplicitous. "You don't want to be around me." "Yes. Correct. AbsoFuckinlutely. Dexter, when I hear you or I see you, it reminds me of what I did. Killing LaGuerta changed me Dexter. It made me realize that after the first shock of what we did, I don't feel bad about what happened. And that's a problem, Dex. I'm supposed to feel bad, but I don't feel anything. I'm a cop… was, was a cop. I don't like what I've become. Human life if supposed to mean something. I'm not supposed to be able to kill someone and have it not mean anything." "Deb, I know LaGuerta was different." He took a breath. "She wasn't a killer. She wasn't an innocent either, but she wasn't a killer. You have to forgive yourself, and me, and let it go. It was her or us. If you keep going down this road, you'll die. Killing yourself won't bring her back." "No, it won't bring her back, but it will stop these feelings. The feeling that won't go away that I finally, truly, know that *I* am wrong. I am wrong and nothing is going to make it better. Not you, not me. I am done." "And what about me?" "Why don't you just go back to your little life and pretend like everything's fine. You never did need me." And to my absolute fucking embarrassment, I feel tears welling up and I have to turn around. He's seen me cry so many times, but he doesn't deserve to see me like this anymore. "I can't do that, Deb. I can't live without you. You've always kept me grounded. Without you, I am lost." I can hear him moving toward me only from the increase in volume of his voice. "You are the center to keep me human. You are my other half. That's who you've always been whether you knew it or not." Suddenly he's right behind me and before I can move, he hugs me to him from behind. The contact makes something twist low in my belly. "I need you. And I know you need me too." The low timber of his voice is vibrating against my back. I can feel his words. "Don't." I say, almost in a whisper. I meant it to come out a lot stronger, but I haven't been this close to him in months and his nearness is intoxicating. My knees feel weak. He brings his head close to me and I can feel his stubble against my jawline. "I can take your anger. I can understand anger." His left arm has come across my chest underneath my chin, the other arm sinking lower across my abdomen. "I can feel your heat and the way your beating heart is making you breathe faster. You want me." Everything he's saying is true, but I can't accept this. But his arms are too strong and I start to struggle. The more I struggle, the tighter his hold is on me. And it's not as if he's hurting me or squeezing me, but he's simply not moving his arms, not allowing me to move. I try to move us forward or backward and we fall back into a chair near the door. I'm sitting on his lap and he's holding me to him. His hands are hot and starting to rub along my shirt and skin. I take another long breath in and out, trying to get my bearings. I lean back against him. We haven't wrestled since we were kids. And when we did, it was nothing like this. "Let me in, Deb. I'm so sorry for all of this. I never wanted you to pull the trigger. Please…Please" He's so close to me and kisses my neck and I can't stop my body from reacting. I grip his forearms holding me, feeling the muscles as he's holding me and I can feel myself getting wet. I turn my head just a little and look him in the eye. He leans forward the slightest amount and catches my lips. They are soft and his kisses are tentative at first, then he parts his lips and licks me, begging for entry. My brain must be hardwired to his touch because even though he's only kissing me on the lips, I can feel a kind of invisible connection to my breasts and crotch. I break the kiss and look him in the eye again. He's the one breathing heavy now and he brings the arm that's under my neck down my chest and cups my breast, brushing against my nipple. It's hard and he strums across it with his fingers. An 'oh fuck' escapes me and he moves his other hand down my belly and unbuttons my shorts with one hand. I don't want him to stop. He can't stop now. He starts to speak, "Deb.." and I capture his lips once again, my mouth open, drinking in his kisses. He groans into my mouth as his hand moves lower between my shorts and panties. His fingers rest just above my clit, over my panties and I can't help but tilt my hips up into his hand. As he presses his fingers over me I can't concentrate on kissing him and break the kiss. "Oh Fuck!" I breathe. He moves his fingers in circles between my legs, rubbing me just right. I can feel the pressure building between my legs and I can't believe I'm going to come from just his few touches. I turn my head and lick his neck, breathing in the scent of him. I find that I can't help pushing my hips up to meet his hand harder and harder and he brings me shuttering over the edge. He holds me until I stop shaking, kissing my cheek. Slowly he loosens his grasp on me but doesn't let me go and doesn't make a move to separate us. I can feel his pressing need beneath me, but he waits for me. I reach behind me to feel him behind me and I am not fucking disappointed. "Please forgive me, Deb. I need you. I fucking need you so much." I find my voice again. "Dexter, I let myself fall in love with you. I let myself stay in love with you, even after I walked in on you doing what you do. I find out that you've been fucking someone else and I still can't let you go. I need you too. I can't not need you." I stand up and turn around to straddle his lap. We're face to face. Although he just had his hands down my pants and made me come so hard my legs are still shaking, it's fucking unbelievable that I can touch him like this. He needs to understand what I'm feeling. I start to unbutton his shirt. He better well fuck me tonight, so he's going to need to get rid of his clothes. “I never feel more alive than when I’m working a case. It fucking fills me up, fills all the dark places and makes me feel like a whole person. When I was with Lundy and we were hunting the Bay Har… you, when we were hunting you, we were perfect. Looking back, as brilliant as he was, he wasn’t as intuitive as you are, but you’re a killer. Lundy and I pretended to know how a killer thinks, but you know. You and your lizard brain.”
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