Chapter 55
Ryan
“Don’t you realise what’s happening?” I ask her, nearly throwing up from the anxiety.
She shakes her head.
“I’ll tell you. I have to tell you, because it’s eating me up inside, and I have to say it out loud before my head caves in.”
“Should I be worried?”
“I’m about to explode, Christine. And it isn’t over just anything –it probably isn’t a good thing.
For me, but definitely not for you. I…I’m no good, and I can only make your life worse.
I’m not the right guy for you, for all this – for anyone.
But I want it anyway. It’s like I have a bomb ticking away inside me, and it’s ready to destroy me, you, everyone around.
It’ll hurt. It’ll probably ruin us both.
But I can’t fight it, because I want to feel it – this bomb.
I want it to shatter my heart. And even though it could shatter yours too, I’m not going to stop it, because I’m too selfish. ”
“Ryan…”
“I’m going to do it. I’m going to make you fall in love with me, Christine,” I breathe onto her lips.
Looking into her eyes, I see my own fear reflected – a fear I’ve been trying to push down – but I can’t let it take hold of her, too.
I want to save her, to keep my pain to myself; I don’t want my wounds to imprint themselves onto her skin; I want my anger to dissolve into the air, without grazing anyone else on the way.
I don’t want her to become a victim of my past, of my mistakes.
And when these thoughts start to take root in my mind and my heart, I feel the ice melting away, slowly, diffusing into the ocean that is dragging me down.
I lean in to her and grab her hips, pulling her onto my lap.
“I’m drowning, Christine. And I need you to save me.”
I stroke her face, brushing my thumb over her lips.
“Save me. Pull me back to the surface,” I say, breathlessly.
She smiles at me and leans in, whispering into my mouth: “Breathe, Ryan. Breathe.”
“I need air,” I say, gasping.
He lips press lightly against mine; small, tender kisses that slowly bring me back to life.
“Breathe,” she says again, as she keeps saving me, holding my hand and pulling out of the water with all her strength.
Christine gives me all of her breaths.
And I take them. Every single one.
I need them.
I need her.
I slide my hands under her shirt and feel her skin shudder at my touch. Her tongue slips into my mouth, searching out mine. It calls her, tickles her, demands her.
I circle her nipples with my thumbs, and she moans as they begin to harden. She tightens her grip on my hips and pulls them into her.
“Not here,” I tell her, forcing myself to tear away from her. “I can’t do what you want on the sofa.”
I get up suddenly, keeping her wrapped around me. I climb the stairs, carrying her in my arms, stride into the bedroom and head towards the bed, laying her down. I stand there and fill my eyes, my mind and my body with her image.
My chest hurts; my breathing is suffocating me. The fear of making another fucking huge mistake sends my stomach up in flames, but it’s too late to turn back.
I don’t run away from her.
And I don’t run away from myself.
I approach the bed, slowly pulling off her jeans, and pulling her towards the end of the bed by her thighs.
I kneel down on the carpet and lean over her, lightly brushing her clit with my lips; I gently bite her just above the waistband of her panties, as she arches her back, pushing against my face.
I slide her panties off and run my hands up her legs, making my way up her inner thighs with kisses. She laces her hand through my hair and pulls me towards her.
My fear is pushed aside by my desire to feel her, that longing for intimacy killing my demons one by one with its bare hands.
My fingers gently stroke her pussy. As soon as my tongue reaches her skin, I lose my mind.
Everything. I have to take everything.
I slip my tongue slowly inside her, alert to her every movement. Christine watches at me. She wants to do it, too. She wants the same contact, the same intimacy.
She wants to take everything, just as much as I do.
I plunge into her, consumed by passion. I’m already addicted to the taste of her, taking away everything bad within me.
I softly bite down on her swollen clit, before sucking on it, almost making her scream.
Being so close to her, being so ready for this all-consuming intimacy, is making my legs tremble in anticipation. I touch her, sliding my hands along her stomach, feeling her vibrate under my touch.
There’s no hesitation, no pain, no fear: just a longing to have everything she can give me.
With my fingers, I trace her clit, before sliding them inside her. Christine moves under my touch, victim to my invasion, my desire. I devour her, tormenting her with my teeth and with my tongue, giving in completely to the heat flaring up within me.
My fingers slide deeper inside her, making her cry out with pleasure. I throw her legs over my shoulders and drive her crazy, suffocating with my own desire to have her, just for me.
I don’t stop torturing her, sucking her clitoris as I slide in and out with my fingers, again and again, pushing her to the limit; I want to see her shudder, overwhelmed by me and everything I can give her.
Her taste explodes into my mouth, her moans drowning out every thought in my mind. My dick pulses against my jeans, waiting anxiously to delve inside her.
The orgasm that ripples through her makes its way into my body, like a chain reaction.
Christine tries to muffle her groans, pulling the covers over her face, and, before she can come back down to Earth, I jump quickly over her, kissing her furiously.
I understand what it’s done to me, seeing her like that; my only option is to transfer it directly back to her.
I surround her body with mine, speaking to her through my gestures, caresses, kisses, before we join together once again.
Her hands slide along my back, my arms, my shoulders; her taste is still on my lips and in my head; her breath takes away my own.
Just one taste, one touch, and I’m gone: disappeared, floating away.
I’m lost. For her.
I’m hers.
Not anyone else’s.