33. Christian
THIRTY-THREE
CHRISTIAN
Sunshine and all mine .
Adelaide’s lips searched for me in a haze of breathless exaggerations and overwhelming compulsions.
Her lips moved with hesitation and creased my jackets with her tight hold.
I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t think.
I couldn’t fucking breathe .
Kissing and being kissed was different.
She wanted this. She allowed this.
I would’ve moved away but she pulled me closer.
Me. She wanted me.
She stopped—I stayed frozen like a fucking idiot—and slowly began pulling away. “I’m…” Her neck flushed with red heat. “We probably shouldn’t.”
She stood there, right in front of me, lips twinkling with an invitation that took forever to receive.
Every night for the past month, I questioned whether I could have Adelaide and revenge.
Loving Adelaide was hurting her.
Ignoring Eomma’s wishes was forgetting her.
But I was a selfish bastard.
Which is why I fucking decided that I’d have both.
Adelaide looked away from my eyes while I searched hers. They glazed over with lust and so much fucking want, and it pissed me the fuck off she tried to hide that from me.
She loved me yet removed it from her heart to stay away.
Not on my watch.
Never on my fucking watch again.
She’d love me again.
I’d make sure of it.
With a curled hand around her neck and sudden passing shock, Adelaide gasped as I pulled her lips back onto mine.
It wasn’t gentle.
It wasn’t sweet.
It was fucking havoc and pain and so much anger and both of us fought for ourselves or each other—who the fuck knew when the lines fucking blurred from the beginning?
Soft lips plummeted into mine without the initial hesitation. We shouldn’t do this, she was right—but I was done making the right choices for everyone but myself. Especially when her tongue stroked me like a firecracker waiting to be lit with a match, I caught onto the battle—lifting hers with mine, playing with it, wanting it, needing it.
She moaned into my mouth, completely pliant in my arms yet her hand remained on my jacket as if touching me elsewhere would burn her. I bet we looked like a fucking mess. One hand near her pussy, the other pushing up against her tit.
I was fucking tired of fighting my feelings.
From now on, her tits, her ass, her pussy—all of it was fucking mine .
The second I tweaked her peak through the dress, she whimpered a subtle “Christian,” that made my dick heavy in my pants. She writhed under my touch yet surrendered entirely to my dominance.
I gripped her thighs, urging her closer to which she did without complaint and rocked her hips against the finger edging closer to her pussy.
With every uninhibited rock of her hips, she brought herself closer and closer until my middle finger rubbed against the wet part of her. “Fuck, baby.”
“ No ,” she snapped in my mouth when I put distance between her cunt and my hand.
Not because I didn’t want to, because I really fucking wanted to.
But I needed to let her breathe.
Adelaide was panting, completely shaking in my arms and I couldn’t control myself.
I hadn’t fucked anyone since her and if I didn’t go slow, I’d become the first man in the world to come in five seconds.
“Sunshine,” I pulled away despite her clawing at my jacket—kissing me over and over and fucking over again. “ Baby ,” I put distance between us. Grasping her by the shoulders so she’d look at me.
She didn’t. Her eyes remained hungry for my lips and jumped for them again. I let her because I didn’t have fucking control when she looked at me the way I wanted her to look at me and who the fuck was I to resist her?
Music played in the distance, but the song in my heart had a beat no rhythm could mimic. Not when the quiet language pouring from her lips connected the dots to the meaning of mine. We were playing a tune together, one of innocence and corruption—mad at the other for not understanding when we were each other’s definition from the very fucking start.
He chest heaved with heavy breaths when I kept her at an arm's length. “Let’s talk about this.”
Adelaide’s lips parted as she caught her breath—yet her eyes tilted downwards to my dick which made it harder than it fucking was. Fuck. She was pretty. She was the kind of pretty I’d walk miles to catch a glimpse of.
“Talk about what? I’m wet and you're hard, slide it in so we can call it a day.”
I’d love filling her mouth with my dick and making her shut the fuck up.
I bet she’d like that.
Yeah, the flush on her skin told me she’d fucking love her mouth dripping with my come.
Her hair fell in messy waves down her back. Adelaide looked completely different—so entirely done with control and keeping herself back. She looked ready to be devoured and I was hungry for her lack of self-control, but I had to stay steady when she was imbalanced.
“We done talking?” Her eyes remained on my lips, and I couldn’t help it. This time I kissed her, and we pressed into each other. Kissing her was as simple as breathing but suffocating at the same fucking time.
She moved into me, pressing herself to my crotch. “I found it hot,” she whispered against my lips. “When you wiped my lipstick off your lips and shook his hand.”
Fuck.
I twisted my hand in her hair and tugged it back. “I liked it better when you were quiet.”
Swollen lips glistened with the reminder of our make out session.
“I thought you wanted to talk,” she said with an indecent smile that made me want to bite the fucking attitude out of her.
Dropping my hold on her hair, I stepped back to breathe. She stood there, her chest easing with each heavy exhale. I rubbed my bottom lip, watching as she straightens out her messy hair and stares back at me like I didn’t know she was fucking dripping for me.
“Are you done giving me the silent treatment now?”
Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Since when does kissing mean I’m talking to you?”
“Responding to my question does.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, accentuating her fucking tits.
Look away. Look the fuck away.
“Wanting to fuck you doesn’t mean I want to talk to you.”
Your pussy says otherwise.
“Never knew swearing was in your vocabulary.”
“I can do a lot more if you keep pissing me off.”
“Please do,” I encouraged with a tilt to my brow.
I wanted to see her come undone in more ways than physical. When the person you liked kept silent for a month it wasn’t torture—it was fucking death and this slow death hadn’t reached my heart yet. It travelled up my body, starting with the other organs, my bones, my veins, then stopped while I suffered with this undiagnosable illness that itches every space on me. I couldn’t do anything but survive off the crumbs of her existence which was her scent, her remaining presence left behind, the quick glances I took from the top of the stairs while she drank her coffee or the cereal milk out of the bowl.
Adelaide was the remaining page in my story with words from another world. If this was how I’d get to listen to her voice—from pure fucking banter—then I’d take it.
She leaned back against the door. Looking every ounce of the goddess she was. Curves clung to her dress as she watched me shatter in her presence. My fists clenched and unclenched—begging to move towards her but my feet dug themselves into the ground—into the quicksand I stood in.
“This could go one of two ways, Adelaide.”
She lifted her chin.
“We can talk about this like mature adults.”
“Which you aren’t,” she added.
“Or I can fuck you against the door and leave you at the exact moment you’re about to come.”
Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Is that a dare?”
“No,” she shook her head. A twinge of anxiety leaked through the cracks of her face. I had to do something quickly before she let it overtake her again and I couldn’t watch it. She went into herself, disappeared from the world.
It took me forever to find this version for her own good, I wasn’t gonna let that fucking happen.
“Talk to me and I’ll make you come.”
She pointed an accusing finger at me before turning her head with a frustrated huff. Along with it came an unbelievable laughter and the sharp glint to her eyes when she pushed, “Then I guess I’ll find Ocean to finish the job for you.”
Before she could turn the knob, I was at her back and pressing her flush against the door.
“You wouldn’t,” I threw her words back at her with a bite.
She turned her head, smirking. “Is that a dare?”
Fuck being the good guy.
“Tell me to stop if you don’t want this.”
“Whatever,” she replied.
Good. Great. Fucking fine by me.
I gathered her hair in my hands and swooped it over to the front, “In front of everyone else, you act like a good girl.”
She whined with her nails scratching down the wooden door when I bit her bare shoulder. “But I know,” I soothed the burn with my tongue. “Deep down, you’re a fucking brat .”
Adelaide leaned her body back into mine, her ass pressing against my dick and completely annihilating my senses.
“For someone who thinks of me as a brat,” she groaned when I pushed against her. “You sure seem to like touching me.”
A sardonic chuckle.
I dragged my hands down the front of her body. She whimpered when they skimmed past her tits, past her ass, past her fucking pussy to the slit that had been bothering me this whole fucking night.
“Don’t even think about?—”
With lost patience, I tore the material in two up her body and whipped her around to face me.
There.
Now she looked like mine.
Unabashed, vulnerable, and erratic.
Just like me.
I drank her in.
The material sagged diagonally, baring her perfect fucking tits to me. Her nipples were the perfect shade between brown and pink and I wanted to suck them in my mouth until she was begging for me to stop. Even then, I wouldn’t. I wanted her to wake up to the reminder of my teeth digging into them, to the redness circling the tight peaks, and the soreness dragging them down.
I pushed aside the remaining fabric and dragged it over her left shoulder, only for my heart to shudder and complicate matters. There it was. Her birthmark was in the shape of a wobbly crescent moon and because I’d been a masochist and had to remind myself every fucking day she existed in this world—I tattooed it over my heart, the same very place hers was.
“This cost me over a million dollars,” she sighed.
I rubbed a hand over my jaw, “I’ll buy you another one.”
“Will you go to Switzerland for it?”
Fuck . She wasn’t supposed to know that.
“Will you shut up if I do?”
“I’ll shut up if you make me come.”
“Actually,” I pulled back. “Maybe I want you to talk then.”
She groaned. Loud and wantonly, “I’ll scream if you want me to, just fuck me, please.”
I loved when she begged.
A reminder of her body didn’t compare the real thing. I lived so long with the constant reimagining of her curves, but nothing prepared me for the real version. She stood so bare in front of me, all grown into herself. I felt unprepared and totally unworthy of her as of this moment—as of future moments too.
“Open your fucking legs, Adelaide.”
She pressed her thighs together, hiding me from what was inevitably mine with a stubborn tilt to her chin. “No.”
I dropped my hands, “You mean that?”
Desperation fluttered through her eyes, and she pulled me back by her instinctive hold on my lapels. “I swear to God, Christian. If you leave me hanging, I’ll find another man out there and get him to make me come.”
A rosy glow spread across her cheeks and down her frame. They were a flirtatious gesture and all I wanted was to get on my knees and swallow them into my mouth.
“Tell me you’re okay with this,” I asked seriously. “Tell me that when I put my mouth to your pussy, you won’t push me away.”
She watched me get close to her face.
“You seem awfully confident about it,” her hand forced me down to my knees. If I stopped to think about how she refused to kiss me again, I’d go mad.
Instead, I’d make her go wild. She’d remember how she ached to kiss me again and again, but I wouldn’t give in.
I pulled aside the ripped fabrics and nipped the softness on her right thigh. “Because I am.”
Adelaide’s legs fell open and to my utter dismay, I was way too fucking close to exploding in my pants.
Freshly shaved, pink, and fucking glistening under the dim lights. “You’re fucking drenched.”
She buckled forwards when I thumbed her clit. Pinching it between my fingers and rubbing it.
“That’s what happens when you’re turned on,” she retorts with sarcasm.
I pumped a finger in her cunt.
This had to last for it to be real. She spoke with hurt, and I listened with pain, and I didn’t want that for either of us. I wanted to be the man for her in this way even if she didn’t want me in the other ways.
Without another word, I thrusted my tongue into her pussy.
She thrashed against, her hands coating through my hair, messing with it, and making me her slave.
She tasted addicting and awoke a ravenous animal who took without leaving anything behind.
“Christian,” she pulled her pussy closer to my lips. I licked and sucked and devoured her into my mouth. She was my favourite flavour. Nothing would top the taste of her in my mouth.
My tongue and finger alternated between pumping in a slow rhythm that made Adelaide whine and whimper and fucking crash against me.
The only sounds were my fingers pumping in and out of her, accompanied by gushing, wet noises that cut through her wanton gasps and whimpers .
Her legs trembled and shook and tore apart but I remained consistent and focused.
She clenched herself around me, but not once did she dig her fingers into my hair, pull on it, or touch me. It was fucking torture not being touched by her. She kept her distance despite the distance not existing between us.
I looked up through my lashes. She leaned back against the door, eyes closed and hands playing with her nipples while I went down on her.
Lost in pure fucking oblivion as I feasted upon her.
Seven years since I last had sex.
Seven years since I last had her .
I was about to blow from eating her out and if that wasn’t the best fucking way to go out, then nothing was.
By the way she smothered my face with her cunt and parted her lips in an O , she was close.
That’s when I tore my mouth from her.
She looked down in a lost haze of thunder and confusion. “Why’d you stop?”
With a lick of my lips, I kept my gaze on her. “Touch me and I’ll let you come.”
She groaned, “I’ll suck your dick after.”
I press a hand over her cunt.
“What is wrong with you, Christian?”
“I don’t just want you to suck my cock.” My features morphed into pure anguish. “I want you to grab my hair, I want you to tug on it, I want you to take my hand and guide me where you want me the most, and I want you to cup my face when you kiss me. I don’t want this distance.”
Her lips parted in shock before the expression faded away .
The ripped fabric of the dress did nothing for Adelaide when she tried to close it to cover herself. “You should have known what this was.”
“I thought this was something happening between us.”
“No,” she snapped. “It was happening between our bodies. We’re husband and wife—our marital status allows me to use you.”
I got to my feet. “It also allows you to touch me.”
“Why are you so adamant on me touching you?” She ran a frustrated hand through her blonde locks. “Isn’t it enough that we’re doing this?”
“I want you to touch me,” I took her hand and held it. “Is that too much to ask for?”
She looked down at the softness of our skins. “You’re allowed to touch me, Christian. But I will not let myself touch you and that’s final.”
“You already love me.”
Adelaide’s eyes flashed with anger and with a heavy push, she forced me apart from her. “Don’t mock me.”
Desperate and hanging onto a thread, I yearned. “I’m not mocking you, fuck .” The sweet taste of her lingered on my lips but was stained with the bitterness of this. “Is it hard to believe that maybe some part of me wants you to love me?”
A humourless chuckle. “That’s entirely selfish of you, Christian.” She saunters side to side. “You want to be loved but won’t reciprocate.”
“What if I wanted to?”
We stood face to face with my snap.
She breathed and I breathed.
Her lips tightened and mine parted.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“I want to love you again, Adelaide.”
I never stopped loving her.
“No.”
She dismissed my confession with a wave.
“I’ll love you again.”
“I don’t want you to love me.”
“I never asked.”
“I reject.”
“I haven’t confessed yet.”
“I’m still rejecting you.”
“This is the orgasm talking.”
Her gaze narrowed into slits. “You mean the one you haven’t given me.”
She turned around with a bratty mumble and twisted the doorknob.
“Don’t walk away without talking about this first.” I grabbed her hand from behind.
“We’ve proven to ourselves that we’re not capable of mature conversations.” She remained still before turning her head to look up at me, “And you’re apparently not capable of giving me an orgasm.”
“If you give into this— to u s,” I shrugged out of the suit coat and handed it to her. “We could have it all. Orgasms included.”
She made it a point to let her tits hang free while she slowly covered herself with the jacket. Thank fuck it swallowed her because I’d have to kill anyone who looked in her direction while she was like this.
“I had it once, Christian.” She smiled but it wasn’t nice. “ Trust me when I say it wasn’t all that.”
Then she left me there with the remaining echoes of her laughter in my ears.