Chapter 33 Harry
Harry
My mouth stayed open, my bottom lip dragging along the bed. I desperately grunted and groaned, ignoring the pain in my wrist, the numbness in my knees, the pure ache in my chest from the pressure of the pillow and the stretch of my arms.
I could still slide the vibrator in and out of my ass, but I had grown so tight from coming that I just wanted to stay still. Everything was warm and tender, and my heart stung.
I missed him. He was fucking someone else in the room next door, and I missed him so badly.
I noticed another message pop onto the screen.
How did it feel?
I squeezed my eyes closed as the guilt became almost unbearable.
“I need more. I need—fuck…” I withdrew the vibrator, my ass clamping down so hard that the strength I needed to pull out only made me want to push back in, just to feel it all again. “I want more…”
Take what you need. I want to give you everything.
I should have stopped, but that longing, that need to be filled and completed; it kept me going until my cock was hard again. I continued, the entire time picturing Dom kissing my face, telling me how much he wanted me, and holding me as I came.
"It’s so good, Molly,” I said, my voice shuddering at the lie of her name on my lips. “I feel—"
There was a beep as the call went dead, and my eyes widened in surprise. No ‘signal lost’ or ‘reconnecting’ - the entire screen just vanished and I was left looking at a photo of Molly and I after I proposed.
I was silent as I moved the vibrator out, my body and heart numb as I twisted the dial to turn it off.
I couldn't think of anyone I despised more than myself in that moment. Sheer disgust rolled through me, bile rising in the back of my throat as I looked at her smiling face on the home screen of my phone. I didn’t care that my body still trembled, and that I was so weak I wanted to fall into the covers and rest.
There was no rush of adrenaline, serotonin, or anything else that could elevate me in this situation.
Climbing off the bed, I carried the vibrator to the bathroom, hating that I could feel a warm streak of lube seeping from my ass as I walked. As if Dom had come inside me.
It couldn't go on.
I had to be stronger. I could use her usual excuse and tell her I was busy. Or really say no more sexting, and that we needed to have a real conversation when she got back. It would give me time to work out what I really wanted.
It had nothing to do with Dom. My real friend, not the one I craved in my fantasies. It was about whether I actually wanted a life with Molly.
It felt like, no matter what I did, no matter how I looked at it, each choice I could make would lead me down a painful path.
There was no ‘right choice’. But if I stopped, maybe I could prevent more agony in the future.
That was my deepest worry. Would I ever be able to really stop when all I wanted was more?