29. Broken Glass #3
“Gid—" I nearly choke on my own gasp as his teeth meet my flesh roughly. “Yes, yes, god yes! I’m yours.”
His mouth finds my neck, but now his hands are on my ass, forcing my hips up as he makes me meet him thrust for thrust. “Swear it, puppet. You’re mine no matter what.”
“Yes, Gideon, please.”
“Tell me you love me.”
“I love you!”
“Fuck, Audrey,” he groans, his hips shunting violently against me.
I barely register that he has come, so lost in my own feverish need when he jerks off his slacks and dress shirt, but the evidence is there.
And why does that only drive my own need to Chernobyl levels?
I follow his lead, fumbling with the button on my own jeans.
It occurs to me belatedly, as he takes over, slipping them down my legs, that he’s no less hard for it.
That Gideon’s cock is ruddy and throbbing, his shaft smeared with his own cum, the tip still weeping.
Where he was feverish, angry, and desperate before, he’s now slow, making me whine in protest.
Until his hands find my bare flesh, running up the length of my legs from the ankle to my aching center. When he reaches the raised bend of my knees, swapping to the backs of my legs, I decide I’m not above begging. “Gideon, please touch me.”
“You’re so fucking perfect. How could I ever have recreated this?” he murmurs mostly to himself, reverently like an artist looking at his canvas.
My brow furrows, but my heart is full. Just as I open my mouth, he takes it again, my nails scoring his toned, lean arms as I feel him notch in my core.
He doesn’t let me up for air, my gasp swallowed by him as he sinks deep, my core soaked and gripping.
It’s the sound he makes, some magical cross between a moan and a whine that has me hurtling for the finish line before he’s even started.
Gideon pitches forward, fucking into me as his hands find my head, forcing my attention to him.
My taut nipples brush his chest as he whispers my name between kisses and thrusts like it’s the only language he knows.
My climax is blinding, and it hits me out of nowhere, jerking me to heights I’ve never been.
I cry out, meeting him thrust for thrust, hooking my legs over his tapered hips.
His answering groan and our haggard breathing are the only sounds in my ears as he follows me over the edge, his forehead pressed to mine.
My mind is reeling as the haze shifts, letting the reality of everything sink in way deep. I just had sex with Gideon.
He sees it.
He sees it when the tears burst free in my eyes, sudden and harsh while he’s still seated deep inside me.
“Shhh, Audrey. I’ve got you.”
His words undo me. “I—" I sob. “I missed you every day. I missed you so much.”
“I know, I know,” he answers, his hands working overtime to clear every tear seconds after they fall.
“I didn’t move on, I swear it. It was always you, Gideon. There was always only you for me.”
I watch my words sink into those cold blue eyes, blue eyes that had for so long been my constant, watchful, steady companion. Blue eyes that were the star in my nightmares after that. Blue eyes that can fix me. Fix everything. “Never again. I’ll never let you out of my sight again,” he vows.
“Wherever you go, Gideon, I want to go too,” I plead. “I can’t… I can’t lose you again.”
His lips find mine, but this is more than a kiss; it’s a promise. “Wherever I go.”
“Mr. Bell! You up there!?”
Gideon groans, kissing me harder. “Ignore him.”
I laugh through my tears, making Gideon twitch inside me. “You can’t ignore Pastor Lemmings. Go.”
“No.”
“Bell?!” Lemmings yells. “We need to go over the schedule for tomorrow.”
Tomorrow.
The funeral.
My boyfriend's funeral, that I am not invited to.
“Fuck,” Gideon curses under his breath as he leans back, slipping out of me, but he makes no real move to leave as I snatch his glasses from his face, all but pushing him away. “Be right with you!” he calls out the open door, jerking a clean pair of boxers and slacks on.
I can barely take my eyes off him long enough to snag the cleaning cloth for his glasses off his bedside table.
My heart flutters at the ease of it, lying here bare, covered in his sweat, cum, and marks.
Gideon is beautiful in a way where it hurts, where someone so cold and unyielding shouldn’t be.
I don’t care, though. I don’t care that he might not be a good person, that he doesn’t think or feel the way most people do.
Gideon Jason Bell is harsh, violent, and cold.
I don’t think he possesses any empathy, save for what he spares for me.
Gideon Bell is a weirdo and a freak, and I’ve never cared.
Not a bit.
I watch him button up his dress shirt, hiding the naturally toned expanse of his body. Numbly slipping his glasses back onto his chiseled face when he leans back over me, crawling over the mussed sheets. “Stay?”
I nod, my heart in my throat as his lips meet my forehead before he tears himself away from his naked best friend on his bed.