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He undid his belt and dropped his trousers, and his cock was a beast with its veins, already glistening with precum. He was inside me in one thrust, fucking me hard, and I took him deep, moaning so loud as he hit the spot.
God, I loved him. God, I loved that man.
“I need you,” I whispered. “Fuck, Logan, I need you.”
“You don’t,” he said, and he kissed me fiercely enough that I could barely breathe.
He didn’t come inside me before he hoisted me down from the counter. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he carried me upstairs with his mouth still on mine. I closed my eyes as we passed Jackie’s bedroom, not wanting another stab of the grief to steal my joy.
He threw me down on the bed, and my knees were up on my shoulders in seconds, his balls slapping me as his cock drove inside. My tits bounced underneath me, mouth open wide as he stared down.
He saw me as me. The me now. The woman I had become, self-assured and confident and determined to be with the man I loved.
Because I was.
I was a woman now.
I was that woman now.
A woman in command of my destiny, gifting my body to Logan, to take his all.
He took his all and gave me mine. I was crying out as he pounded his dick against my sweet spot, tender and crazy for it both at once. He cursed under his breath as he came inside me, muscles rippling in his arms as he tensed up and let himself go.
I thought it would be over when his weight collapsed on mine, but I should’ve known better. The kisses kept coming, bodies grinding, sweat on sweat, and he touched me, and coaxed me and loved me until time lost its track and I lost all sense of it.
It felt like hours that I was nothing but tingles, my whole body shivering and shaking. I knew what was coming as he positioned himself above me all over again, and I wanted it. I wanted it rough.
He gave it rough.
His cock pushed inside my ass in one shunt of his hips, and I cried out to a whole other tune. His weight was all on mine as he made me take him, and I loved the way it was so sore and so fucking good both at the same time.
Yes.
My voice didn’t sound like sweet little Chloe when I asked him for more.
Yes.
I sounded like a whole new creature.
Yes!
His eyes were onyx, pitch black as they pooled in mine.
Yes! More!
It hurt me when he thrust even harder and filled me deep.
More!
I hissed like a bitch when he fucked me fast.
More!
“I’ll give you fucking more,” he said and rolled me onto my side, slamming in even harder still.
He wrapped his arm around me and slid his hand between my legs, and this time the stretch was a demon. Three fingers in my pussy as he pounded my ass.
I was going dizzy with it, pain turning to pleasure.
But still I said it. Still I wanted more.
More! I’ll always want more from you, Logan!
That’s when he came for me, pulling his fingers from inside me to strum at my clit and cresting my peak along with his as he shunted his cum into my ass.
It was heaven, right there, right then.
Both of us gasped for breath, both of us exhausted as he rolled away from me. This time he didn’t come back, just lay staring at the ceiling with his chest rising and falling.
“I mean it,” I told him. “I’ll always want more.”
I propped myself up on my elbow as I caught my breath, but he was still staring up at the ceiling, those damn fucking shutters still down.
That’s when I saw it, standing like a monument on his bedside table. The huge insulin bottle. I recognised it from his bathroom cabinet all those weeks ago, but I didn’t think about it at the time. I didn’t understand.
But now I did understand. That’s what palliative care work does for you – it opens your eyes to a whole load of new things.
Scattered conversations about strange contemplations that barely anyone else would consider.
So how would you do it? If you had to? How would you do it?
Insulin. The answer people gave, nurse to nurse, was always insulin.
Logan saw me looking at it, but didn’t say a word.
“Please tell me you weren’t going to…” I started, and again he didn’t say a word. “I know you’re not diabetic. Please tell me you weren’t going to do it.”
But he was going to do it. I saw it in his face.
Logan Hall was planning to kill himself with an insulin overdose and not tell one single soul.
“I’m right, aren’t I? You were going to use that to finish yourself?”
