18. Chapter 18 #3
“Understand what?!“ I whine out angrily as I squirm underneath him. My eyes are darting back and forth between his hand and his eyes. My dick is already starting to perk back up as I watch the show. Why the hell does he have to be so damn hot? This is not the time.
His head tilts back, a raspy moan falling from his lips as ropes of cum land all over me, mixing with mine.
It’s everywhere. My chest, my stomach, my dick, even my balls.
I’m positive he did that shit on purpose.
When he finally finishes, he leans over me, wiping the tip of his dick off on my thigh.
“That every single part of you belongs to me, Lance. Until that sinks in, this is all your fucking getting from me.”
“The fuck are you talking about?“ I ask as I lean up on my elbows.
He stands up, methodically tucking his still hard dick back into his underwear. He doesn’t even bother to zip his pants back up before he starts walking down the hall toward his room.
“You can leave now,” he calls over his shoulder.
Wait… Is he fucking serious right now? My face instantly heats in shame as I glance down at myself. How the fuck am I supposed to go anywhere like this? I look around the room, hoping to find anything I can use to clean up.
“Fuck it,” I whisper to myself as I lean over and grab the throw blanket off the couch. I frantically wipe myself off as best as I can, before trying to right my clothing. As I grab my bag and head toward the front door, it hits me. I freeze in my tracks as the truth washes over me.
That’s it.
This has gone way too far. I’m already in too deep with Roman at this point.
We’ve barely done anything together lately aside from hanging out, and while I’ve enjoyed bonding with him.
It’s obviously fucking with my head, because what just happened was unacceptable.
Whatever is going on between us, it’s headed in a completely different direction than I intended for it to.
He was supposed to treat me good, like a prince, and here I am, about to do the walk of shame feeling freaking disgusting. I feel used, and degraded, and… broken.
Just broken.
How did I let this happen? How? Anger starts to bubble up in my chest, forcing tears to line my eyes.
I glance down at my clothes and realize there’s no fucking way that I’m walking out of this apartment looking like this.
I rip my shirt over my head as I storm down the hallway after him.
I yank open his bedroom door, and he doesn’t even flinch as he continues digging through his dresser drawer.
“What the fuck was that?“ I ask as I point to the living room.
“What was what?” He asks as he pulls something out of the drawer and unfolds it to see what he’s holding.
I cross the room, yanking it from his hand and tossing it to the floor.
“What. The. Fuck. Was. That?! Do you feel better now? Feel like you’ve made up for all the times you were nice to me?
“ I scoff in disbelief as I run a hand through my hair. “You could’ve just grown some fucking balls and said that you were ready for this to be over.”
He rears back like I just slapped him, as if he’s the one that just got fucking degraded and tossed aside like a piece of trash.
“Some balls? You have no room to talk. I can’t even fucking look at you in public without you breaking out into a nervous sweat.
What am I supposed to do? I feel like I’m in the fucking closet all over again, Lance, and I can’t do it. I won’t.”
“The fuck are you even talking about, Roman?” I ask incredulously. “That has nothing to do with you and if you would’ve just fucking talked to me about it, then you would’ve known that!”
“So, what? You just wanted to keep us a secret and avoid being seen with me in public for shits and giggles?”
“No, you idiot! I didn’t want it to be public knowledge because I knew that eventually this shit was going to happen,” I argue as I gesture to the living room.
“And I was going to be the one that looked like a fucking moron because I was the dumbass that started to believe I was different. That I was fucking special. And then, of course… of course, I start to get attached which just makes the whole situation even worse. And for what? For fucking what?!”
“Wait…” his brows pinch together as his shoulders lose their tension. He tries to step closer, but I don’t let him, inching away from him. “You were getting attached?”
“No,” I reply sternly. “No. We aren’t doing this shit now.
I drew the line in the sand, Roman, and you didn’t just cross that shit.
You manically laughed as you drug me through the mud to the other side.
There’s— It’s— fucking Christ.” I stutter out, running my shaky hands through my hair again.
I glance back up at him, and it hurts so fucking bad.
Seeing him like this, knowing that this is it, the moment I’ve been silently dreading.
His eyes stare back at me apologetically and it’s shredding apart my every inch of me.
It doesn’t matter that I knew this would come eventually, because I didn’t prepare for it.
I didn’t protect myself, and I’m going to pay the price for making that mistake.
“I didn’t— I was just jealous. I thought that—” He starts, but I throw my hand up in the air between us to stop him.
Tears aren’t just lining my eyes anymore, they’ve wasted no time spilling over onto my cheeks, causing the world to turn into a foggy mess of confusion.
Everything we had, it’s disappearing into a smoldering pile of ashes right in front of me, and the burn it’s leaving in my chest, it’s fucking excruciating.
The smoke that’s lingering is suffocating me, and I don’t know how I’m going to survive this. To survive us.
I choke on a sob, forcefully wiping the tears from my face. He tries to step toward me again, but I shake my head in denial as I step away from him.
“It could’ve been good, Roman. It was good. Really good,“ I admit with a sad smile as I take another step backwards. “But we both made our choices, and it’s— Now, we have to live with them.”
“No. No, no, no.” He chants in desperation as he steps toward me again, but I can’t. I can’t do this anymore. My heart is thundering in my chest, my body is trembling, and my breaths are shaky. I’ve already reached my breaking point.
I force myself to turn around and start walking toward the front door with him just steps behind me.
My eyes are still blurry, but I catalog every detail I can of the place that turned into so much more than just an apartment.
The memories come in waves, their force when they crash into me enough to knock me off kilter.
This space, it’s not just his anymore. Everything about it is catered to us.
My snacks are scattered on the countertop.
I have clothes draped over the edge of the couch.
The same couch that Roman moved just for me.
The left side of the coffee table is canted so that he could prop his feet on it when he was sitting next to me.
The candle I brought over is lit in the center of the island, the flame flickering weakly as it reaches the end of its life.
It wasn’t just somewhere to lay our head at the end of the day. This place was our haven. It was home.
“Wait. Please? Let me explain.“ He begs as he follows behind me.
My hand grabs onto the door handle, and I pause. I don’t have much left in me. I can feel the tension in my body, and I know that it won’t be long before it starts to spill over and stain everything around me. It always does.
“I can’t, Roman. We agreed on how this would go. You agreed to all the stipulations and rules, and you made this choi—”
“Fuck the damn rules. Fuck the whole entire agreement, Lance. All of it was bullshit. It was already more than that, and we both know it.” He barks out as he slams his hand on the door above me.
I flinch away from him instinctually, the reflex coming back full force.
I don’t know if it’s because my emotions are a scattered mess right now, or it’s just that my body already knows I’m back to fight or flight when it comes to Roman.
Whatever the case, I force in a deep breath to calm myself.
Roman’s expression turns apologetic instantly.
I shake my head in denial, because I can’t think about it right now.
I can’t talk about it. I can’t let his words sink in, because if I do, then I won’t leave.
I’ll stay here, where I’m comfortable. I’ll fall into his warmth and sweet words like they’re true.
I’ll crawl into his bed later tonight believing that he actually cares, and I’ll let this happen all over again.
I’ll take every sliver of the version of him I crafted, I demanded, that he’ll give me until they slowly disappear and all I’m left with is the Roman that existed before. The one that loathed me.
I can’t stick around and watch as everything we built turns to hate. It’ll destroy me.
Roman steps back from the door, giving me space, and that’s all it takes. I yank it open and slip out of the crack.
My heart pounds wildly in my chest, my pulse echoing in my ears.
My arms and legs are still shaky as adrenaline courses through my bloodstream.
My lungs burn, desperate for every bit of oxygen that I can manage to get through the sobs.
My body is begging for a moment of reprieve, but there isn’t one in sight.
It’s not like Roman Easton was ever mine to begin with, but there’s already a hole in my chest that makes me wonder if the impossible managed to happen.
I might’ve already been his.