38. Konnor
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
konnor
My jeans are in a puddle on the bathroom tiles, so I throw them on, day old whatever, and enter my bedroom, finding Blesk is sitting on the edge of my bed in a silk, black nightgown, eyes cast down, long hair slightly damp, making a glossy curtain around her.
“Duch—"
“I’m sorry,” she mutters, wiping her eyes with her knuckles. “I had one too many glasses of wine and—”
“No, no, no,” I say, kneeling at her feet. “Don’t. Don’t apologise to me. You’re right. I acted like an arsehole while we were apart, and you should know.”
I place my hands on her outer thighs, gazing straight into her eyes.
On my knees. My heart on the fucking line.
Crush it. I deserve it. “But, Blesk, I’m monogamous.
When you left that day and said we should be friends—just friends—I…
” I exhale roughly, that same feeling knocking the air from my lungs.
“I lost you once. I couldn’t cope with losing you again.
It broke me. I acted like a right dickhead.
I tried to fix the thing inside me the way I usually do with girls and alcohol, but I am monogamous.
I swear. I’m yours.” I dip my head when she starts to cry, trying to hold eye contact with her.
“There is only you, Blesk. There was only ever you, and if you ever realise you are too good for me, which you are, then there will still only ever be you.”
She swallows hard. “I got jealous.”
My chest aches.
“Duch, you never have to be jealous.”
“But I don’t get jealous,” she whispers. “I’ve never been jealous. I’ve never wanted someone…”
A sad chuckle leaves me. “It sucks, eh? I will do anything to stop you from feeling jealous again. Name it.”
She fidgets with the hem of her nightgown. “Do… Do you like Faith?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“Why…” She searches my gaze. “Why then?”
I frown past her, over her shoulder to the window I used to climb out of.
How do I explain this? Simple pleasure without meaning?
When everything between us means so damn much, how do I explain such a thing?
“Same as the alcohol.” I look back at her sad, pretty face.
“Just a way to force my brain to feel good or forget.”
“Did you..." She sniffles and shuffles her bare feet on the carpet. “Do you have her number?”
“I don’t think so. I’ll delete it if I do.” I groan and rub my face roughly with my palms. “I didn’t cheat on you. I can’t fucking stand the thought of you thinking I’d cheat.”
She gives me a sad little nod. “I know that in your head you weren’t cheating on me. I know that.”
Yeah… Nah.
That’s not true.
I sigh, shaking my head. “In my head, I cheated on you before I even met you, Duch. Every time. I don’t want to be with anyone else. I regret every girl before you.”
A tear drops to her cheek. “She said you hooked up, and I just couldn’t breathe when she said that.
I wasn’t even really mad at you. I was jealous, and…
I told you we were just friends, so you didn’t owe me anything, but it still hurts so much.
I can't imagine a worse feeling. It’s sickening.
I’m scared of this feeling. I’m so scared of wanting you this much.
” Panic fills her voice. “Or you wanting someone else. I can’t even imagine you with anyone else.
God, please, Konnor, if you don’t want me, just—”
I grip her thighs again, staring harder, the tension in my frown aching. “I only want you, Blesk Bellamy.”
Her eyes fill with something else, and two words drop between us like a heavy secret. “Show me.”
“What?”
"She said you treated her like a whore, threw her around, and then I remembered Pemberton. The way you were together, so aggressive. I thought about how… I imagine you are with girls. Like… forceful and dominant.” She laughs evasively. “But you do just want me? Just not like that."
I wipe a tear from her cheek with my thumb. “I only want you. In every way I can have you.”
She sinks slightly. “I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“Join the crazy club.” I laugh once, but it’s short. She’s not saying something. “You can be the deputy of the crazy club if you want, but I already got dibs on president.”
She offers me a soft smile. “Konnor, I’m so crazy…” She pauses, words seemingly stuck in her throat. "I love you—I am so crazy in love with you.”
My heart fucking flips.
She loves me?
She said those words. I heard them. Absorb them. Fucking store them inside my chest for keeps. I’ve waited a long time to hear her say that.
“Fuck, Blesk.” I’m barely holding myself together. “I love you. I love you so fucking much.” I chuckle and shake my head slowly from side to side. “And I don’t want to be messy with you, Blesk. I don’t want to dominate you.”
“Why?”
Huh?
Why?
I look at her, blink, mouth open, brows still crossed and aching—serious. What… “Wait. Do you want me to be like that with you, Blesk?”
She turns her face away from me. “Forget it.”
Oh, hell no. “No, no, let’s talk.” I touch her cheek, guiding her attention back to me. “Everything, remember? Get it out. Let me see all of you. Let me hear what this is about.”
“I’ve only ever been a secret.”
“I’m not… I’m not following.”
“In the dark. In my room.” I watch her exhale slowly, trying to steady her own breath. “With a hand over my mouth or a pillow or the sheets covering me, hiding me, hiding us.”
I see red, my mind flooding with fucked-up images. I ball my hands into fists but try to man the fuck up. She doesn’t need me to make this about me, my fucking issues, my fucking rage. She needs this to be about her.
“Okay…” I grind out, my voice dark and strained even to my own ears. “What do you want, Duchess? You want me to disrespect you? Treat you like my little whore?”
Her cheeks flush.
Fuck me, she does.
My cock jumps, but my heart twists because I don’t know if I can do that with her. Not her.
She nods once, then covers her face. “I don’t know what I want. I’ve never… It’s never… been—”
I save her from this, cutting her off. “Do you know how to say no to me? Do you know how to stop this if it gets out of control? If I hurt you? You kick me the balls, understand? You fucking kick me so hard I keel over.”
She studies my face, sniffling slightly. “You look like I just stole your favourite toy, Konnor. I told you I’m not your dream girl. I’m not pure, precious. I’m not.”
A slow grin slides across my face. “One thing is for sure. You are crazy.”
She gasps.
“You’re crazy if you think I don’t want to bend you over my bed and fuck you until you’re screaming, shuddering, pussy swollen, and my cum dripping down the inside of your thighs.”
She bites her lower lip, brown eyes wide and startled. Then whispers, “I want that, too.”
Fuuuck.
I lift my hand and bite my fist, looking at her over the top of my knuckles, thinking of all the things that could go wrong, but— “Are we processing, Duch? Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Brain-blood: Zero.
Cock-blood: One.