Chapter 4 #2
He was a storm of emotions. Passion. Lust and desire.
Everything I needed. His tongue ripped into my mouth and fucked me from the inside out.
My hands gripped the back of his neck and hung onto him.
We were moving, and my back banged against a wall.
Somehow, he’d got me against it. My desperate hands scrunched his t-shirt up.
I broke the kiss and took his pebbled nipple into my mouth.
His groan slid into my mouth when his chest tremored beneath my lips.
His fingers were greedy, groping for my ass cheeks underneath my skirt.
Then his nails dug into my flesh. A moan rippled through me, and then he was grinding against me.
Letting go of his nipple, I yanked his shirt off him.
He was out of it in a second, ripping at my blouse, and the black cotton fell apart under his aggression.
He yanked my bra down, unclasping it as he took my heavy breast into his mouth.
I snatched it off, and it landed somewhere on the floor, while he bit my nipple and pinched the other painfully.
He was all aggression. Wild and hard. He knew I wasn’t made for a nice boy, even if sometimes, ironically, I yearned to be a nice girl for him.
Only for him. As if he’d read my mind, his face pulled up to mine.
“Told you I don’t want fucking nice.” He shoved his hand on my head and pushed me down to my knees, my view the bulge in his pants.
“Show me how nice you are to me.” The words themselves were a contradiction.
I’d unbuckled his belt and ripped it off him in a second.
In the next instant, his zip was down, and I’d shoved his pants and boxer briefs to pool around his spread feet.
He kicked it off him, his movements jerky.
A heavy hand fell on my neck, and he gripped it to yank my face up.
“Look at what you do to me.” His hand gripped his cock and ran along its thick length, coating it with pre-cum.
“Fuck trying to be nice,” he groaned. “Fuck me instead.”
I shoved his hand off his dick, hollowed my cheeks, and took him into my mouth.
I don’t do slow. I go all in past my gag reflex.
His groan was guttural above me. When my gaze climbed up, his was half-lidded and zoned out.
I held all the power. Making him lose control and knowing he was fucking prey in my hands made me pulse with need between my thighs.
My hand cupped his balls and gave them a hard squeeze before I circled my tongue around his tip.
He fucked my mouth like I was his favourite plaything.
His hand in my hair burned right through to my scalp, and the pain built on my pleasure point.
He was close. His entire body rippled with high-strung tension.
He thickened in my mouth. But instead of coming, he froze and held me still, allowing him time to back off.
Then he yanked me up and pushed me against the wall.
I let out a moan of protest, which he snuffed out with his mouth. My legs wrapped around him, and his fingers gripped my thong and yanked it to the side. When he thrust inside me, both our groans were simultaneous and echoed in the small room like an orchestra of pleasure.
He didn’t give me time to adjust to him.
I didn’t need it. His hands gripped the back of my knees, spread them wide, and pinned them to the wall, folding me in half.
The short skirt I’d been wearing was a flimsy piece of fabric, and I was spread open and bare for his eyes.
With sheer effort on his part, he held me against the wall and pounded into me.
I was helpless. He’d ripped my control from me.
I groped to find the window rail next to me.
Holding on to it, I put my trust in him and let him pound into me.
“Fuck nice,” he groaned, his gaze on my D-cup breasts bouncing wildly in front of him.
“Fuck me instead,” I moaned, and his gaze sparked.
He took my words as a mission, and he put in his best effort.
Sweat rolled down my back even though he was doing the heavy lifting.
He stayed close and ground his hips against me.
It sent me off, and I came hard. With a scream that tore at my vocal cords while I clenched around him and fell apart.
I hadn’t even come down to reality before he had thickened and was coming inside me.
His head dropped onto my shoulder as he jerked out cum inside me.
When he was empty, he lost his energy and stumbled back, taking me with him and falling to his knees.
We were a mess on the floor, and laughter burst out of me because this was so typically us. Our mess.
I held on to my shaking stomach and looked at him. He was smiling, and his hand came to my face. “You haven’t laughed in so long.”
And it died down instantly. My chest started constricting because he was right.
I couldn’t remember when I’d truly laughed because I was happy and not because I was putting someone down.
Panic mixed with an incredible sadness seeped into the cavity in my chest. It had been so long.
Maybe it had been forever. And I’d given the power to a man who never considered me his to rip the spark out of my life.
My lips trembled, and he crushed me to his chest. “Shhh… I am fucking here for you.”
Everything cracked open inside me. I lost control, and I was weeping in his arms. I didn’t even know for what.
A lost childhood, a mother who had me to gain a fat bank account, or a father who never wanted me.
Or maybe it was because I missed the woman who’d never birthed me but took me into her home and her heart.
I no longer knew who I was and who I should be.
I only knew that he was right. I was killing myself.
Time passed. I didn’t know how long we sat like that.
Me on his lap, him on the floor, naked. At least until our limbs were stiff, and the cold had penetrated our bodies.
But it made me finally see a split in the darkness in my chest. He’d not only ripped my clothes off.
He’d ripped my soul apart, too. I’d never felt more naked in my life, and I was tired of feeling like this.
“I don’t want this anymore.”
His hand stilled on my face. “What do you want then?”
My eyes leaked again. “You’d call me crazy.”
“I’d only ever call you mine.”
I didn’t voice my words without thought.
“I want help.” He waited for more. “I think…” I looked away from him, finding solace on the sofa in the back of the room where I’d spent so many days crying when I was on my own.
I want someone to help me. Fuck. I think I said that aloud.
I flipped my gaze to him and found him still there.
“I’d like to see someone. Who can help me.
” I laughed. Not because it was funny, but because I was finally admitting I was crazy.
“No, you’re not.”
I said that aloud, too?
“You’re sad.” He tucked a piece of hair behind me. “You’re hurting, and you’re brave.”
I bit my lip, trying to stop the overwhelming dam behind my eyes that was about to break. Again. My chest hurt from the burden of it. “I don’t know if I can do it.”
“You don’t. We take one day at a time. Sì?”
“We?”
“Fuck yes. I’ll be right next to you.”
I was burning up inside and out. It was so overwhelming that I couldn’t find the words to tell him what it meant to me.
I’d never even told him I loved him. Because that’s not what I did.
I didn’t love anyone. Not even myself. I wanted to tell him all of that.
But my chest vibrated, and sobs tore out of it.
He pulled me into his arms, and I hid in them.
Somehow, I knew he understood what I wanted to tell him.
One day, hopefully, I’d be able to word it.
How much this man and his deeds meant to me.
But it would not be today, and I hoped he’d have the patience to wait for me until I could.