22. Christian
TWENTY-TWO
CHRISTIAN
Fucked.
That was the only way I could describe the situation.
She was wearing a fucking skin-coloured bra. Might as well be fucking naked. Her tits constricted against the material when she let out a hoarse sigh.
Old Adelaide would have questioned the tattoo.
Present Adelaide gawked at it, then she stopped.
Deciding to drive me fucking crazy instead by stripping out of her dress.
Black booty shorts pressed high around her legs. She pulled them up, covering the stretch marks on her stomach when I found them fucking hot.
I adjusted myself in my pants. Pure fucking torture.
My muscles were flexing with the need to hit something.
Here I thought I had to be gentle with Adelaide. Yet, she pulled out a sharp blade and carved a disturbance into me.
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
Hard as fucking stone, I watched her grab my shirt and pull it on. “You’re teaching me how to be confident right?”
“First step to being confident,” she left the buttons open. “Strip away all barriers, right?”
Fuck me.
Throwing my head back, I kept my eyes shut tight enough to see the lines of my eyeballs.
“I actually don’t think I need this.”
When her rosy scent and giggles passed me, I opened my eyes. Discarded on the floor was my shirt and gone was the damn tease wearing nothing but that stupid fucking excuse of a bra.
What’s the point of putting my shirt on when she was gonna take it the fuck off?
She didn’t need a lesson on confidence.
What she needed was someone to pull it out of her.
With fluid precision, she gets into the ring. Her fingers toying with her bun. Just wait until I got in there, I’d fucking ruin her—pull that hair down of hers and show her I had the upper hand here.
Oh, fuck me.
With her back to me, she bent down and started stretching. The globes of her ass mocking me with their roundness. There was no fucking way she didn’t know what was doing.
“I’m not going easy on you,” I said once my legs could fucking move.
She straightened, shrugging like she couldn’t care less. “Bring it on.”
Grabbing two rolls of hand tape, I threw one to her. “Put this on.”
“Shouldn’t you put your shirt back on?” She acted like she wasn’t bothered by my shirtless attire, but the hard swallow told me otherwise.
“I’d rather not,” I unbuttoned my pants.
Panicked, she asked, “What are you doing?”
“Taking my pants off?”
“No.”
I raised a brow. “I can’t exactly fight in jeans.”
“I guess that’s that,” she turned to exist the ring.
“I have shorts underneath,” I exasperated.
“Well in that case,” she made a motion with her hands to carry on while putting the tape around her hands.
“Let me help you with that,” I said after chucking my pants off.
She held her hands out while handing the tape over. “This will help make sure you don’t get hurt.”
A small nod.
Once I finished, I took a step back. “Right, let’s start?”
She stood with her hands oddly placed at her sides, waiting for instructions.
“We’ll start with basic hand punches, nothing crazy.”
She took a deep breath. Damn, her tits looked amazing .
“I can do crazy,” she stated with pure confidence.
Not in hand-to-hand combat you can’t.
Just as I kneeled to grab focus pads, the shadow of her presence loomed behind me.
What is she ? —
Adelaide jabs me at the side of my abdomen.
Holding the side she hit, “What the fuck?”
Her form was fucking perfect .
“You didn’t tell me you knew hand to hand combat.”
“You never asked.”
I wish I got to see more of this Adelaide. Carefree and uncaring.
“Fine, let’s do crazy.”
We circled around each other and just when I thought she’d make her move she’d sidestep into the opposite direction. Sticking her tongue at me like a real damn adult.
“Our friendship is on the line.”
Adelaide scoffed. “I thought you said friendship was overrated.”
“It is,” I landed a punch in her abdomen.
Fuck.
She bent down. Her brows scrunched together in pain.
“Shit, did that hur?—”
“Stop going easy on me.”
She took me aback by retaliating— jabbing. Crossing. Jabbing .
“Fight,” she landed a hard punch to my chest. “ Back .”
This was what I wanted. I wanted to see Adelaide lose control. I watched her squeeze herself back into the crowded space of her shell. She thought it gave her comfort and sanctuary, but all it did was fucking confuse her and deteriorate her mental health. This wasn’t about her finding her confidence, it was about using it. These punches and jabs and fucking kicks were proof that she didn’t help knowing how to hone her skills. She needed someone to show her it was there.
Maybe I was a bastard.
But I’d rather be the bastard who bore Adelaide’s pain than the bastard who lived without it.
Her fire burned hotter. But her hands were losing their strength. With the next oncoming punch, I pulled her into me. “I don’t know what I find hotter, the fact that you know how to fight or how good your ass looks in those shorts.”
She gasped at my words, stepping hard on my foot.
“Fuck,” I groaned.
Swiftly, she wrapped herself around my back like a koala. Arms holding my neck hostage while she kept her legs tight.
“Still wanna go easy on me?” She whispered straight in my ears.
Fuck, she was wet.
“No.”
Making her lose balance, I elbowed her in the abdomen.
In motions of blurriness—hitting the floor with a thump —Adelaide straddled me.
Mumbling a sorry before attempting to get off me, which somehow resulted with her grinding on my erection.
I stopped her with hands on her hips. “Is your plan to rub my dick off?”
Whether it was the rasp in my voice or the fucking heat from her pussy, Adelaide stilled and looked up at me.
Our eyes spoke to each other, hers searching for an answer, mine searching for sanity.
We came to an unspoken agreement which made my blood rush down to my groin. “You sure?”
She nodded, lowering herself completely onto my lap. Her breath hitched.
My hands tightened around her hips.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck .
I guided her short, cladded pussy along my dick. Listened to the mewling sounds coming out of her.
“Christian, I–”
“Shh,” I lifted my hips to add more pressure. “Don’t overthink this. Just feel.”
Adelaide adjusted her position so that her pussy was perfectly aligned with my erection, then started rocking back and forth, her head lolling to the side as she savoured the sensation of her wetness and my hardness through our clothes. I’d dreamt of her riding me like this. Never fucking knowing this day would come. “You feel so good, Christian.”
My hands moved to her chest, drawing slow sensual circles on her nipples over her bra. “These fucking tits.” I pinched them.
“Christian,” she gasped, rocking herself faster. Her nails dug into her thighs like touching me would be sinful.
Her cunt was so fucking wet, I could feel it through her panties and the thin material of her shorts. Fuck . She moved like a temptress with half-lidded eyes and waited for the right moment to attack.
Tits were so perfect in my hands. All round and fitting. I pushed them together, pulling them up towards her chin. “Be a good girl and lean forward.”
She listened, bringing herself to me.
I sucked the globe of her right tit.
“Christian,” she moaned. “That feels— ungh .”
“Finish your words, baby,” I sucked the second orb into my mouth. I wanted to rip this flimsy fucking bra off, suck her skin, leave fucking marks on her perfect tits.
“You feel— mmm ,” her hand moved dangerously up her left thigh before disappearing into the waistband of her shorts. “Fuck,” she moaned.
Fucking enchanted by the movement of her hand in her pants, I fell back down. There was a wet spot on her tits from how hard I sucked.
I bet she was fucking wet, rubbing herself like a little slut.
“How wet are you?”
She moaned.
I pressed a hand right where hers was above her pussy. “You’re not allowed to move until you tell me.” Adding pressure, “How fucking wet your cunt is.”
“So wet,” she moaned. “So we— Christian !”
I moved my hand, so she was gliding her fingers through her pussy lips. She whimpered incoherent words as I pulled and pushed, her body flailing with the need of release.
She looked down at me with a half-lidded gaze. “I’m gonna…”
“It feel good, baby?”
“Mhm, yeah.”
“Yeah?”
She moved her fingers faster, my name disappearing into the air after each breath she took.
“Adelaide?” I became desperate for her touch. To feel her skin on me instead of the taunt of it, the mockery of it. I needed to fucking feel her before she killed me by looking like the fucking goddess she was. Adelaide was too good to me and for me.
I’ll kill every man who's seen her like this.
“Yeah,” she rolled her head back.
“Touch me,” I grunted. “Please.”
She shook her head, despite the marks of red scarring her thighs.
“Tell me then,” she whimpered.
“Anything.”
“Why do you have— oh my god —my birthmark over your heart?”
Low grunts of ecstasy pulled out of my throat, my body shaking as she dragged every bit of pleasure out of me.
Fuck.
Adelaide grounded herself against me faster, harder, arching her whole body until she hit a spot and screamed loud enough to wake up the other side of the world.
She fell forward, her head on my chest.
Wetness coated my lips with the same fingers that were in her pussy. My tongue darted out for a taste.
She tastes so fucking good.
She raised her head, staring up at me with a fully satiated gaze.
Bringing fingers to her lips, she sucked the very place my tongue was.
Fucking hell.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she pulled her finger out with a loud pop.
I couldn’t tell her that the reason I tattooed her birthmark over my heart was because in this life, she’d never be mine. But me? I was unwholly yet completely hers. Always had been.
Her birthmark was the imprint of the kind of love I would have deserved if I was a good man. It meant that if love existed for someone like me, then I’d erase its original definition and replace it with Adelaide.
No one loved as hard as her.
No one cared as much as her.
No one made me feel human as much as she did.
Adelaide was my heart, all the incessant beats in my chest were always hers.
There was absolutely no way I was telling her all that.
Instead, I said, “Unless you plan on fucking me, I suggest you get off.”
Adelaide jumped off me with pure hatred in her eyes. “I thought you didn’t fuck your friends.”
My heart battled the splintering beats, fighting off the invasive familiar and unfamiliar ones. “You dry hump all your friends like that?” Anger strutted around my words.
She swallowed hard. “It won’t happen again.”
I wanted it to fucking happen again. Preferably without the clothes.
Letting my head drop against the floor, “We can’t be friends, Adelaide.”
“Why?” She asked.
“You know why.”
Because I felt the heat of your pussy as you came apart and all I want is for you to do it again and again and fucking again.
“Our marriage isn’t real.”
But my feelings are.
“Christian,” she closed her eyes and threw her head back in exhaustion. “We can’t continue on like this.”
I ignored her. “Why didn’t you touch me?”
Her whole body shuddered. “Because I didn’t want to.”