CHAPTER 113
Ana
I SLIDE OUT my change of clothes from my gym bag, resting them on the navy sofa.
Throwing our jackets into the wash, I move upstairs and to Troy’s room, knocking on his bathroom door.
When he lets me in, I say, “I was just putting in a load since our clothes are ruined. Want me to add yours too?”
For a quick second he waits, his eyes unsure like he’s suddenly shy to strip down in front of me and the notion brings a flush to my cheeks.
“Uh yeah, sure, thanks,” he says, his voice reserved.
He removes his grey t-shirt first, staring down at his dark jeans with this awkward look on his face that I can’t help but laugh.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” I tease. “But I can close my eyes if you want?”
He rolls his eyes but I can feel him smirk by the way his eyes hold my gaze like he’s challenging me, that I’m the one who wouldn’t be able to handle seeing him bare again.
He’d probably be right but I’ll take my chances.
Following through on my request, I hear the sound of a zipper being tugged, my eyes still shut like I jokingly promised.
At the sound of silence, I open them back up, a small grin still tucked at my lips, reaching out my arms as he hands me his shirt. His pants.
And his briefs.
The same arrogant as hell glaze across his face.
My eyes then betray me, making the mistake of traveling down his body, shuddering when I see it.
His thick cock pointing right at my hips, already hard with a glistening tip.
I swallow deep, feeling electricity start to poke all over my skin.
“Nothing you haven’t seen before, hm.” Troy smirks, finding joy in my spiral. “Is that why you can’t look away?”
“Just a reflex,” I say airily.
“Ah.”
Rolling my eyes, I snap around only to bump right into the door, flipping him off from behind when I hear him chuckle.
Sprinting down the stairs like a fucking bouncy ball, I dump his wet clothes into his washer, scrambling to find the detergent. Rummaging through all the drawers and cabinets with no luck, I force myself back upstairs and into his bathroom.
Giving it a soft knock before I enter, my jaw drops to find one of Troy’s hands clenched into a fist, his other wrapped around his length, pumping up and down his shaft roughly.
My back presses against the door without awareness, shutting the door accidently. “Don’t mind me,” I say when he stops, “continue.”
My eyes grow heavier by the second, the pleasure tickling at my inner thighs, whirling when I spot the intensity of his gaze.
“Eh, the moment’s gone,” Troy says, his voice scratchier, sexier.
“I can help with that,” I say, moving toward him.
“Yeah?”
He matches my distance as I take a hand, darting my tongue out to lick along two of my fingers.
I swallow in growing desire when his cool stomach clenches from a whisper of my touch. He watches me carefully, the heat from his gaze piercing over my neck as I brush my slick hand from his chest all the way down to his pubic bone, feeling the heat and power that rests not a couple inches below.
“There,” I say when his cock pokes against my leg, visibly grown in hardness. “I think you can take it from here.”
Instead Troy drops his gaze to my wet chest, the same painful way he did downstairs.
Except with a note that feels unreadable, flickering in a way that’s nerving.
Hungrier.
“I should go,” I grind out.
“You should,” he says cooly.
I stand still.
“Is that what you want?” His throat bobs with rough intensity as he asks it and my chest sighs in relief.
It’s just a question. But it feels like a delicate invitation to gain his trust back.
“No,” I say.
Realizing how bad I want to stay, his fingers drop to my thin, wet cardigan, clinging onto the buttons, each one he begins popping open tightening my nipples until they both pierce through my undershirt like tiny icicles.
Bright green irises soften like he’s suddenly scared to touch me, and it sends a shiver down my spine.
“Is this okay?” Troy asks so carefully.
I nod through hazy eyes.
Scooping me up in one impressive lift, he rests my weight on the counter, pulling my hips forward until they’re at the edge of the marble.
I lift up my arms to help him peel my tank top off before his lips travel to the lace of my bra so slowly like he wants to savor this moment. Bottle it up for just the two of us. And my heart starts to pitter patter when I realize it’s what I want too.
Taking his time, his mouth meets the soaked, ruined fabric of my bra, flicking his tongue out as he licks around my nipples over the lace.
“Fuck,” I gasp out. “Oh my—”
“What about this?” he asks, watching my brazen reactions from the plane of my chest.
“Troy—” I whimper, feeling each tickle of his lips burst into tiny sparks of pleasure, rubbing my hips along the chilly marble when he pulls a nipple in between his teeth and sucks. Soft.
“And this?” he says thickly, his voice growing in impatience.
Keeping his gaze locked on mine, I feel the gentle glide of his strong hands skate down my chest, over my waist, until they land on my hips, moving them a little forward for him, desperate for more.
More of his touch, more of his skin, more of him.
He groans when he peels down my wet leggings and realizes that I’m not wearing any underwear.
“Even this?” he rasps as he presses a hot kiss by the corner of my inner thighs.
“Mhmm,” I moan out happily.
“Remember what I said about using your words, baby?”
“Oh just touch me already,” I push, pulling his waist into mine.
“Hm, if you insist,” he teases as I move my mouth to his lips, nipping at his bottom, parting my own, my brows creasing together so tight when a capable finger glides through my wet core.
My nipples fuse into shards of glass, my neck stretched taut, my walls clasping around him immediately.
But it’s too distant, it’s not enough.
I think he feels it too when he slides them out after just a couple of thrusts, helping me guide his glimmering cock to my core.
And when he finally pushes himself through, my body feels the weight after the many weeks of complete emptiness.
Feeling so full, so quickly, still not used to it being this freeing, this good, I whimper.
“I know, baby,” he whispers gently over the shell of my ear. “I know.”
Singing soft praises right there, waiting until I’ve adjusted myself over him, he moves us into his room and on his bed. My back arches against the silky sheets, my wet tendrils sticking against the pillowcase, having the overwhelming need to take more of him.
When he sees I’m comfortable, he starts moving, thrusting, pushing himself as deep as I’ll let him.
“You’re doing so well,” he says, his voice proud, yielding through each crevice until he’s filled me to the hilt.
My eyes roll back when he circles his hips slowly, until he waits for me to join him, and when I do, our waists, our sexes start rocking against each other’s like it’s been way too damn long apart.
Too damn long.
I pull his weight tight, changing the angle as my ankles hook around his lower back.
And when I come, he continues to whispers pretty things to me, brushing a strand of my damp hair away, his lips heating over my wet breasts, groaning into them.
“You did so well, baby,” Troy mumbles over my pebbled skin.
The wildness of his features sends a shock down my chest.
Electricity, not the normal kind that brings you butterflies but the static kind, this flaming, dangerous pull that stings at every nerve ending each time your skins meet.
I push against his strong arms, flipping us over, craving the closeness I kept escaping before.
Tossing my hair away from my face, with the force of my knees I push us to the top of the bed until Troy’s back hits the headboard.
“Strong girl,” he praises, his gaze impressed by the abrupt shift.
At the glow of his magnetic green eyes, an intoxicating game dances between us, one I no longer feel the need to reign. This challenge is every bit his as it is mine. And I didn’t need his confessions to change my mind. No, they just gave me the strength to take his hands and claim what I want.
I reach for Troy’s hands, bringing them to my chest so he can cup my breasts. His jaw grows tense by the initiation, his eyes focused so well on me.
Holding my palms on either side of his shoulders for support, I undulate my hips over his, pushing down deep, then giving a good roll, up then down, riding his cock until he’s grunting and cursing against my neck.
And when he calls out my name and I feel him swell inside me, I push more forward, closer, until my tits cover his face, and he drops his hands to my ass, giving it a good squeeze.
I let go, allowing him to take over.
Little by little giving everything I want him to have.
“You missed this, baby, huh?” Troy lures at my growing moans.
“I missed you,” I say it so quick so that he knows I mean it.
And I think the words were much appreciated because his shaft pulses against my walls, feeling his release about to ripple, I cup the sides of his face and kiss him through it.
When he pulls back, his gaze is so unreadable, it nearly makes me want to cry until he gently moves us around so that I’m lying on my back again.
I reach for his cock, wanting it back in me, in pain at the loss of contact, not realizing my hands have started to shake until his hips begin to move again. This time he hooks one of my legs over his shoulders, grinding so deep, so tight, his power reaches my stomach.
But at every touch, each thrust, an emotion—one that was there before, so clear all over his face—is no longer there.
When he feels me moan, he grunts but looks away like he’s in fear at what that could mean—meeting his gaze.
Feeling like I’m losing a game, I no longer care when it hits me that I could be losing him.
Like this, the way we were before.
So as his eyes meet mine again the next moment, I slide my hands into his hair, keeping his gaze on me like it’s alright for him to look, to watch me unravel, knowing how much he likes to watch my face while he fucks me.
And when he realizes I’m serious, that I’m not going to run away again, he kisses me so hard that my chest nearly explodes, my toes curling around his skin tight.
Even after he comes inside me again, and my release drips off his swollen shaft, parting ways seems absolutely wrong and unthinkable. Troy’s body shifts like he’s about to move off me, but I stop him.
His glazed eyes search mine with curiosity.
“No. Stay,” I request. “Just a little longer.”
His damp hair tickles the shell of my ear, resting his weight over mine, not completely to avoid crushing me, but I feel his whole body in a way I haven’t before. I wrap my arms around his waist—so damn carefully—while wanting to squeeze him as much as I can, not caring if he does crush me.
Somewhere in the moment I let my hands wander up his body, pulling them to the side of his neck, and I want to kiss the skin right there—I’m so close—but don’t.
When he finally slides off me, the loss of weight feels unbearable again, watching as he pulls my back against his chest, cautiously, as if waiting.
Waiting to see if I’m going to bolt again.
And I don’t.
Before he finally wraps his arms around my shoulder, and this time, I reach my hand out and rest it over his arm as we fall asleep in a way that feels—for once—like peace.
_________
My eyes slowly open to a soft ray of sunshine illuminating through the window of Troy’s bedroom.
I shift around to check the time on the nightstand, shimmying back to my spot in the crinkled sheets lightly to not wake Troy.
For a second I let myself picture this, us—being an actual couple.
Then the idea sends a brick of nerves down my spine. Not because of him, but because of my fear, my worry of being incapable of what he needs, a girl that can cheer him on and not load endless problems to his life.
Maybe I can be her.
The confidence reaches my hands, it seems, as one hovers over his now dried, messy soft brown hair, running my fingers through the strands gently. My heart aches when Troy’s eyes flicker open, an entirely new kind of emotion written over his features.
We’re both bare, leaning on our sides facing the other, both bruised and swollen by the other.
But his gaze lingers on me ever so innocently as he runs the pad of his thumb over the top of my chest, right above my breasts, traveling past them, trailing down my belly button, stopping at the apex of my thighs.
He lowers himself down, hooking an arm around my ass, keeping me still on my side, before his tongue warms my core in a way where my whole world constricts to just him and his mouth.
Flicking his gaze up at me, he keeps it there through every lick, every kiss that he heats me with. He keeps his hands on me too, reaching one out to one of mine.
And he holds onto it, lacing our fingers together as he eats at me like this is the most important thing that he could be doing, the most important place he could be, and my arousal throbs at my clit, rippling deep in my core as he tilts his face back to let me rock and rub against his face, holding my hand through it all.
No word, not a sound is made except for his muffled groans against my pussy and my moans at every sparkle of pleasure he gives me and his length that pokes against my thighs with greater intensity on each lick.
When the wave finally crashes and I stare down at him, his gaze burns right through me.
The look he gives me is pure, not lustful by any measure, it feels like a goodbye.
Once he finally pushes himself back up and my breathing starts sounding coherent again, I turn toward him, my eyes, his eyes all glazed in raw desire.
A single glance at the high sculpt of his cheekbones, and Troy faces me when he spots the peculiar shift in my face.
“I love you,” I barely murmur, spotting his lips flicker when a scorching panic fills me faster than the reverie did. “—like a friend.”
When he barely backs away, enough for me to notice, I want to slap myself.
“Wait—” I retract.
But it’s too late.
“It’s okay, Ana,” Troy cuts me off, an awkward curve forcing itself over his mouth. “No hard feelings.” He shuts his eyes, equally as flustered when we both look down his body. “That was a terrible choice of words.”
And then we face opposite sides of his bed, pretending like this never happened.