Chapter 65 Cassidy #2
Picking up pace, he curls my backside up with each roll of his hips against me. My entire world is channelled in my pelvis, my mind incapable of wandering.
No sadness.
Just him and me—us.
Releasing my face, he grabs my hand and slides it between our bodies, coaxing me to stroke my throbbing clit with my own fingers.
I pulse against the pad of my forefinger.
When I begin to masturbate, he moves faster inside me.
Max's complete domination of my body throws me to a whole new level of arousal.
Then, through the unparalleled pressure moving up into me, it happens.
I feel pleasure bubbling. A shock of desire causes all the muscles inside me to jolt.
Vibrate. Max groans long and loud in a guttural pitch like I have never heard from him before.
Like pain.
Too much pleasure.
"Come, Little One. Your little pussy is begging for it."
Or is that me? Pain. Too much pleasure. I convulse on that intense current, screaming out loud and shuddering with the aftershock of a savage orgasm.
My head rolls on the pillow as I moan.
"Good girl," he growls as he tenses up, his body losing its precise beat, becoming shaky and uncontrolled. His fingers knot in my hair, and we break eye contact when he squeezes his shut, coming with a fierce groan.
When my body drifts down from that consuming state, I brush my fingers up through his brown hair, holding his forehead to mine with hopelessness.
I blink more tears out as our reality tumbles back on top of me.
What time is it? How long do we have? I lift my chin to press my lips to his, move down his strong jawline, and across his throat.
"I don't want to sleep," I rasp out against his sweat-slick skin. "I'm going to stay awake all night."
My body is thrown to near climax when he shifts his weight to the side. His penis slips from inside me, still hot and semi-hard, the release of which is so sweet and yet any absence of him is unbearably sorrowful.
He spears me with an intense look. "We're going to shower. Eat. I'm going to lick your sweet pussy. And then I'm going to stare at this face"—he trails his knuckles down my cheek—"until I can't forget how it looks. How it moves."
We are not saying goodbye.
"Will you stay awake with me?" My voice trembles something awful.
"I'll stay awake all night, Little One," he promises, cradling me against him as he stands and strides into our ensuite.
We are not saying goodbye.
A whine.
Something wet slides across my cheek. I'm snatched from peaceful oblivion back to the waking world by a strange sound and that sensation.
The sun glows behind my eyelids. Something touches my leg and I smile, curling to my side to cuddle—I shoot up.
My eyes fly open. Startled by the sight before me, I nearly fall off the bed.
Big brown eyes watch me. A wet black nose meets my hand, nudging softly.
She is a big puppy. Brown and black, probably a German Shepherd.
She is on her belly, her tail swiping across the sheets with excitement.
"Hi. Who do you belong to?" I ask, ruffling her fluffy brown mane.
Smiling softly at her, I am suddenly hit with panic. What time is it? I fell asleep.
I fell asleep!
I dive from the bed, grabbing my robe and wrapping it around my body. I stumble through the bedroom door. My heart thrashes around inside me, its frantic thundering hurling me into a frenzy. No. No. No.
The puppy rushes after me, tumbling its chubby body into my heels. I take the staircase down, each step huge, one after the other, a never-ending decline. At the bottom of the stairs, I dart my gaze around, looking for a sign I am not alone. Anything at all.
He's just getting a drink.
What time is it? I hear a car engine and my head snaps towards the front door. I race over to it, opening it wide, before coming to a dead stop on the porch.
The Butcher Boys are climbing into a black car, all in dark suits as if they are going to a funeral. Max freezes when he sees me, his eyes piercing through mine. He stands with one foot in the passenger door, his tempestuous grey-blue eyes glistening in the gathering dawn.
I watch his throat roll. "She's yours."
Tears burst from the corners of my eyes, the heat and power of them burning my irises. I want to sink to my knees and cry hysterically. Scream at the pavement.
I don't though.
Instead, I lean down and scoop my puppy—Clara—into my arms. Her tongue whips out to catch my tears as they flood down my face.
Are you scared, Max?
Don't lose your gentleness in there.
I shake my head through sobs of despair. "Weren't you ever going to tell me that you love me, Max?"
He smiles softly. "If I don't, will you still know?"
I laugh through a splutter of tears, nodding my head frantically. "Yes."
"Good." He climbs into the car and I take a step closer, my body trembling with the need to race after him, to beg him to run away with me, to flee with me to Bali or New Zealand or anywhere.
The place doesn't matter. Just leave the District.
Change our names. Have babies and puppies and placemats and—
He shuts the passenger door.
My feet suddenly feel like lead.
The car rolls slowly down the driveway.
I can feel that my heart is still beating. But I'm stunned. Stunned it hasn't just decided to wilt and die.
I don't know who you'll be next time I see you, Max...
On shaky legs, I make my way back to our room.
I softly close the door, locking myself away from everyone and everything.
I stare across the empty space in a horrendously painful state of being.
Lost. A chill moves down my spine, so I hold Clara tighter.
My pooling gaze lands on his bedside table, on a pile of paper folded down the middle.
A letter.
I place Clara onto the floor and move over to stare at the paper. Twisting my wedding rings around my finger, I remind myself that he has promised me a future with him.
Cassidy Butcher
I unfold the sheets.
The salty droplets pouring from my eyes slap the white sheet, beading on top of the fresh red ink.
I read the pages, the words blurring through my tears.
I run my finger over the cursive writing.
Then I reach for the pen that created these beautiful words, still with its cap off, and slash a red line straight through the first sentence.
One down.