Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
SKYLAR
My muscles scream as I push my body to its breaking point, my heart pounding hard as I try to forget everything outside these basement walls.
Sweat soaks my skin after over an hour of intense cardio, drenching my sports bra and shorts.
I hop off the treadmill and immediately move to grab a fifty-pound dumbbell off the rack.
I stand in front of the wall-length mirror, holding the weight above my head with both hands, doing my best to ignore the pained expression on my face.
I lower the weight behind my head, then extend my arms up again, working my triceps until they feel like they’re going to rip in half. I keep going, pushing harder, longer, doing more reps than I should. I’m doing everything I can to focus on my body and not the incessant ache in my chest.
After overhead tricep extensions, I grab another weight and move to the workout bench. I plop down, my sweaty back sliding against the cushion, and start a set of chest flys.
Strong push up, resist down, stop low so my shoulder muscles ache enough for me to groan. Every rep stretches the muscle over my heart, and it stings just a little bit more.
I don’t think I’ve ever whimpered in my life, but I’ve never hurt this much either. Despite the countless breakups I’ve been through, it never felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. Like it had been torn to pieces in front of me.
This pain is like venom in my veins, poisoning me, forcing me to submit. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, and I can’t move on. It’s like my entire life slammed to a halt when Riann left, taking part of me with her.
The worst part? I can’t even buck up the courage to message her.
What would I say?
I’m sorry you haven’t heard from me at all. I’m just a giant coward who wanted to let you move on with your life.
The thought alone has my stomach turning.
Every time I try to picture Riann with another alpha, it’s like swallowing shards of glass that threaten to shred my insides into ribbons. I want it to stop; there’s no sense in pining for someone I can’t have.
But no matter what I do, no matter how much I try to distract myself, she’s there, haunting my mind. The ghost of what could have been.
I groan at the twin aches in my shoulders and my chest, unsure which pain hurts the most.
Love bloomed so quickly between us. Maybe it was natural that it exploded just as fast. The pressure of whirlwind romance, with nothing able to stop us, sent us hurtling toward destruction.
Maldita suerte…
I'm fifty reps in and my body is on fire, screaming for me to stop, but I can’t.
Not until I beat back the sadness that keeps trying to smother me.
If I can just focus on my burning muscles, maybe I can stop seeing Riann’s shocked face as she asked me to leave.
Maybe I can stop hearing her words in my head on repeat.
Maybe I’ll stop reliving the moment I decided to turn and walk away.
I shouldn’t have given up so easily; I should have tried harder.
I should have stayed and proved how much I fucking love her.
Starting another lift, I grit my teeth as I push myself ever closer to my breaking point, trying in vain to drown out the pain. When my body starts to tremble with exhaustion, I'm tempted to collapse on the gym floor and sleep there. It's no less than I deserve after everything.
Instead, I force myself upstairs to shower. I barely have enough energy to scrub my body, but I make quick work of it, before flopping butt naked onto my king-size bed. I lay there, hoping sleep will take me, just so I'll get a tiny reprieve from the thoughts in my head.
No such luck.
Despite the hours of exercise, the countless reps that pushed me to the brink, my mind is restless. I groan, scrubbing my hands over my face as the sound echoes through the silent house.
Knowing there's only one thing that might take the edge off—and knowing damn well what a horrible idea it is—I reach into my nightstand and pull out a Ziploc bag. Tearing it open, I pull out Riann’s tank top and hastily bring it to my nose, breathing in deep.
Her marshmallow scent still clings to the fibers, fainter now after several days, but still rich enough to sink through me like a balm. It soothes over my frayed nerves, quiets my chaotic mind. It flows through me, filling all the voids, dulling the throbbing ache in my chest.
The truth is obvious, even if I don’t want to acknowledge it. No matter what I do, no matter how many hours I spend killing myself in the gym, I won’t be able to get her out of my head.
She’s a permanent part of me now, buried in my marrow.
Fuck.
I’ve never been so completely captivated by someone before, and my heart argues with every bit of logic I possess.
We’re not a scent match, I know that in my bones.
But a single scent shouldn’t have so much power over me, shouldn’t have me desperate to crawl across the country on my hands and knees just to smell her in person.
Another deep inhale, and my head is spinning with images of Riann. The way she laughed over her fries when I took her to lunch. The way I held her through her panic attack after she learned the truth. The way I proceeded to bend her over the exam table and fuck her while she sucked my fingers.
The tiniest noise escapes my lips at the thought of her tongue dancing over my fingertips. I scold myself, but that doesn’t help with the onslaught of images that follow.
Riann in my office chair…
Riann coming for me in her hotel room…
Riann yelling and telling me to leave…
Fuck.
An ache blooms in my chest, and I close my eyes, imagining her straddling me in my bed.
Her lips tease along my neck while her hands explore my body.
They slip over my chest and down my stomach, her fingers slowly diving toward the apex of my thighs.
Even though it’s just a daydream, my muscles tense in anticipation.
“Preciosa,” I whisper, nearly inaudible.
Embarrassed heat warms my cheeks, but I shove it away. I’m completely alone; it’s not like anyone is going to walk in and find me touching myself to the thought of my sweet delta.
I should have come that night in her hotel room.
I should have let her touch me, even if I had to finish the job myself.
She wanted to return the favor so badly, to touch me the way I touched her, and I denied her.
I thought it made the most sense. After all, she would have been upset when she couldn’t make me come.
It doesn’t matter how often my previous partners said they were okay with it; there’s a stigma attached to coming, and they thought they weren’t good enough to please me. I never wanted Riann to feel like she’s inadequate or not enough for me, because she’s everything I could ever need.
I’m the broken one; I’m the one who can’t come for anyone else.
But would it have been so hard to let her try?
A throb between my thighs is followed by a swell of heat, and I brush my fingers over my pubic bone, pretending they’re Riann’s instead of mine. They dip lower, slipping along my seam, and I’m surprised to find how wet I am. Apparently, the idea of her touching me is more appealing than I thought.
As my fingers brush over my clit, a stuttered breath knocks from my lungs, and I bring Riann’s shirt to my nose, drowning in her scent again. My thoughts haze over as it invades my senses, and I roll my fingers over my clit again, finding a comfortable rhythm.
It would be so easy to guide Riann’s hand and show her what I like. To coach her gently on all the ways I’ve been able to make myself come. She could explore on her own, if she wanted, slipping her fingers inside me…
My core throbs at the thought of her delicate digits pressing into my channel, and I drop Riann’s shirt on my chest to grip my tit with my free hand. The pain cuts through my hazy thoughts and intensifies the sensation of my fingers on my clit.
“Riann.” Her name falls off my tongue like a whispered prayer, and she’s all I see.
I want to bring her here, to show her the place I call home. I want to have her in my bed, fucking her into utter bliss every day for the rest of our lives. I’d fall asleep with her ass pressed against me, my arms wrapped around her, and I’d wake her with my face between her thighs.
I wish she was here to see me. Teasing me with her coy smirk, watching me stroke myself to her. Then I could show her how much I love her, how I’ve barely been getting by without her. If she was here, we could figure it out; I know we could. And then it could be her hands on me instead of mine…
The image of her sitting in my office chair replays in my head, with me on my knees, worshipping her pussy until she came. My breathing picks up as I recall the taste of her, the sweetness of her marshmallow scent stuffing into my lungs, and my fingers move faster.
Fuck, I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything. More than I want my next breath.
My muscles tighten as I speed up my frantic circles on my clit, the images of me fucking Riann driving me closer to the edge until I finally fly over it.
Pleasure slams into me, racking my body with convulsions as I come harder than I ever have.
My cries echo through the house, bouncing off the walls.
When the last aftershock ripples through my body, I’m panting hard.
I pry my eyes open, the images of Riann fading as the ceiling takes up my view.
My bottom lip trembles as post-nut clarity slams into me full force.
I don’t bother trying to fight off tears anymore, letting them slide down the sides of my face and fall onto the bed.
What the fuck have I done?
I’ve made such a terrible mistake, the biggest mistake of my life, by letting Riann go. I’ve tried my damndest to get over it and move on, but there’s no point in trying anymore. I can’t move on, and I don’t want to.
If there’s a way to fix all of this, I have to try. Even if it’s just to apologize. I’ll never forgive myself if I give up now.
I close my eyes again, a fresh wave of tears falling, focusing on my mate’s face that’s tattooed on the backs of my eyelids.
I just hope I’m not too late.