22. Sadie #2
My feet move anyway because it seems like my body doesn’t want to listen to my head.
I stop a foot away; my heart is hammering so hard it feels like it’s trying to escape my chest. My hand hovers over the lid.
I snatch it back, turn sharply, and pace back to my oil, looking out the window, I stare out at the dark quad, trying to talk myself down.
You’re pathetic. Begging a man you’ve never seen without a mask to come fuck you because you’re stressed, because Miles went quiet? Because you’re lonely? This is how people get hurt. This is how people disappear.
I pace back to the desk, chewing the inside of my cheek until I taste copper.
The violet bracelet on my wrist catches the lamplight, mocking me.
The flowers on the counter are still fresh, still perfect, watching, waiting, and invading every quiet moment while giving me nothing when I actually asked.
Just go to bed. Forget him. Forget both of them.
My fingers tremble as they finally brush the lid. I hesitate one last second, my breath shallow and shaky, then I lift it slowly, like it might explode.
The screen flickers to life. I see if my camera and mic are both on. They are and now I have no idea what to say to him.
Then the cursor moves.
I’VE MISSED YOU.
My stomach twists. I shake my head slowly, my fingers tracing the violet bracelet on my wrist like it might burn me.
I’M SORRY. THERE WAS SOMETHING HAPPENING.
“I needed you,” I whisper. My voice cracks on the last word. I press my lips together, swallowing hard. “I needed…”
The cursor blinks at me.
HOW CAN I MAKE IT UP TO YOU?
“You can’t.” The words come out sharp. I slam the laptop shut so hard the desk rattles. My hand stays on the lid for a second, trembling, before I look down at the bracelet again.
How can he make it up to me? I don’t know how to answer that question, but how do I tell him what I want without sounding like a crazy person? Even, I think I’m crazy.
I crawl into bed, pull the covers up to my chin, and squeeze my eyes shut. Sleep drags me under like an anchor.
***
I jolt awake with a sharp inhale at the feeling of a warm, gloved hand sliding slowly up my bare thigh.
The room is dark except for the faint glow of the laptop across the room.
He’s here. He’s sitting on the edge of my bed, his mask is on, and a black long sleeved t-shirt is stretched across his chest.
“I’m sorry,” the distorted computer voice says, low and rough.
Before I can answer, he leans in and kisses me. I let him. I kiss him back, hungry and furious and relieved all at once. His gloved hand cups my jaw as the kiss deepens, his tongue stroking mine like he’s trying to erase the days of silence.
He tugs the string to my bathrobe. Cool air rushes over my bare breasts and between my thighs.
I shiver as he moves lower, his mouth trailing hot and wet down my neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks.
His hand slides between my legs, he’s removed the glove, his fingers finding me already slick.
He groans against my skin when he feels it.
He pushes two fingers inside me, curling them deep. My hips jerk, a broken sound escaping my throat. He adds a third, stretching me, pumping them faster while his thumb circles my clit with firm pressure. The wet, filthy sounds fill the quiet room. My thighs start trembling.
“Please,” I gasp, voice shaking. “I missed you. I hate you for leaving but I missed you so much… please…”
He pulls his fingers out, flips me onto my stomach, and yanks my hips up. I hear the zip of jeans, and then he drops them. In one brutal thrust he buries himself inside me from behind. I cry out at the sudden fullness, the stretch, the way he bottoms out so deep it borders on pain.
But I hear him groan as he enters from behind.
“Fuck yes,” I moan, pushing back against him.
I’ve waited for this, I’ve waited to feel something again, to feel him.
He fucks me hard, his hips slamming against my ass with every thrust. The wet slap of skin on skin echoes. One gloved hand reaches around and rubs my clit roughly while the other slides up my body and wraps around my throat.
He squeezes, firm, controlled, and cutting off just enough air to make my head spin. The pressure sends a dark thrill through me. I never knew I wanted this, but now I want it all the time.
He reaches for my nightstand, grabs my camera, and holds it out. The shutter clicks. A flash lights up the room for a split second, capturing him fucking me from behind, mask and all, with my arched back and flushed face in the frame.
The realization makes me clench hard around him.
He flips me onto my back, hooks my legs over his shoulders, and drives into me even harder. The new angle is devastating. He fucks me like he’s punishing both of us for the silence. Deep, brutal strokes that make the bed creak and the headboard knock against the wall.
“Tell me,” he growls through the mask, his hand returning to my throat. “Tell me you missed me; tell me you forgive me.”
“I missed you,” I sob, my nails digging into his arms. “I hate you for ignoring me, but I forgive you, please don’t stop….”
He pounds into me harder, his thumb finding my clit again.
My orgasm hits like a freight train. My back arches sharply off the bed as pleasure explodes through me.
My pussy clenches violently around his cock, pulsing and fluttering as wave after wave crashes over me.
I scream, my nails raking down his back through his t-shirt.
He fucks me through every shaking contraction, then buries himself deep and comes with a low, guttural groan, flooding me with hot, thick spurts.
He stays buried inside me for a long moment, breathing hard through the mask, before slowly pulling out. I feel his cum leaking down my thighs onto the sheets.
He leans down and kisses me deeply one last time, slow, possessive, and strangely tender then brushes damp hair from my forehead.
“I’m sorry.”
I don’t say anything to him but stop him from moving away from me.
“Don’t leave please, just tonight,” I plead. For some reason just for tonight I would like him to hold me.
“I don’t think…”
“Just for tonight.” I lean up and give him a kiss, a soft small kiss, and he leans on the bed next to me.
His arm is over my stomach, his fingers softly moving up and down.
I lean in closer to him and he moves his arm so I can turn my head on his chest and listen to his heart beating.
He brings his arm around to my back, making small circles on my lower back.
“Sleep now baby.” He kisses the top of my head.
I lie there in the dark; naked, sore, and dripping with him, my chest still heaving, and all I can think is, What have I done?
Will he kill me in my sleep? I don't think he will. I truly don't think he would ever hurt me.
Yet the thought of him leaving again hurts more than the silence ever did.
“Will you leave me again?” I ask my hand resting on his chest.
“I won’t be here in the morning, but my phone is open again. I’m not leaving you again.” I feel his finger under my chin, and he makes me look up at him. “I’m all yours baby, all yours. Go to sleep Sadie.”
I smile, and close my eyes, happy to know I have someone I can talk to again.