Instead of responding, I reach down, grabbing my hard dick. Guiding it to her pussy, I run a trail from her clit to her entrance. She gasps, her body arching into me, silently begging for what we both need. I don’t make her wait.
Lining myself up, I push inside her tight cunt, my eyes rolling shut as her warmth envelopes me. Anais moans, her long legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me deeper as though she never wants to let me go. The irony isn’t lost on me. She senses my retreat, the detachment. And though she might not fully understand it, this is my goodbye.
I’m a coward. A bastard. The worst kind of asshole. I’m taking, taking, taking, getting my fix before I send her on her way. My dirty hands should’ve never been allowed to touch something so pure.
Anais might come across as strong, confident, a brat. But as I’ve gotten to know her this last month, it’s clear she hides her vulnerability behind her sass and attitude. But I’ve seen what lies beneath. She let her guard down, let me in. I’m one of the lucky ones. She opened up, let me see the real her. But she never should’ve trusted me. I used her love for me. Gotwhat I wanted. Because there was only ever one ending for us. And it wasn’t me down on one knee.
Her nails dig into my back, snapping me out of my spiral and scorching a trail up my heated flesh. The sting grounds me. It will leave a mark, and maybe that’s intentional. I can’t blame her. Surely, she knows what this is?
For the first time since this started, I’m doing something I never thought I was capable of. I’m making love. Making love to the girl I never should’ve touched. The one who has burrowed her way deep inside me, smashing down every wall I built to keep her out.
And still, I can’t bring myself to stay.
With long, torturous strokes, I move inside her, owning her, filling her with me. I groan when her pussy tightens around me, as if subconsciously she’s trying to keep me here. Her body knows I’m leaving, even if her head hasn’t caught up.
In this moment, I wish things were different. I wish I wasn’t such a fuck up.
“Oh my god,” she whimpers, when I hit a spot deep inside her.
My lips meet her ear. “That’s right, Brat. I’m your god, and this is our confessional.”
Not a real confession, of course. Because the truth I really want to say out loud, would ruin us both in more ways than one.
Her cunt flutters around me, her legs trembling. She’s close. I find her clit, and circle it. “Evan,” she gasps, and I push up on my palms to watch her face as she climaxes. I want to commit her face, so filled with love, awe, and desire, to memory. I’ll never forget this moment.
“Come for me, Brat. Soak my dick.” My teeth are clenched, sweat beads on my temple, down my back. Since I first had sex,I’ve never experienced a connection this intense. There are no words to explain the emotions coursing through me. But I feel it. The moment Anais’s mouth parts and she stares deep into my eyes, it’s as if she is seeing into my soul, drawing it out and weaving it with hers in a constrictor knot. Something I’ll never be able to untangle.
“Evan,” she cries my name, her voice hoarse as she falls over the edge.
Her cunt grips me like a vise, clamping down so hard she wrenches my own climax from me. My balls draw up, cock thickens, as my thrusts turn slack. And then I’m spilling inside her for the final time.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter, collapsing on top of her, careful not to crush her.
My face finds her neck and I inhale her scent one last time, greedy for the hit.
I now have a better understanding of how an addict must feel.
“That was amazing,” Anais breathes, running her fingers through my hair.
I hum my response, unable to speak through the lump in my throat.
Anais chuckles, sighing in contentment. Pain slices through me.
“That good, huh?” she teases.
I don’t answer. I can’t. I stay where I am, still inside her, tracing lazy circles over the pulse point in her neck with my nose. I’m not sure how long it takes, but eventually her breathing evens out and she falls asleep.
Not long after, I roll to the side and watch the sleeping beauty. Her flawless face, her perfect nose with … twenty-four freckles. Anais Lauder is ethereal. So stunning, it’s sometimes hard to look at her. It took me a while to see, but now that I have, it’s hit me with a force I’m unable to comprehend.
Exhaustion weighs heavy on my shoulders, signs of a lack of sleep from the night before. I know I should get up, leave, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
So instead, like the asshole I am, I pull her into my arms, kiss the top of her head and close my eyes.
It’s mere minutes before sleep pulls me under.
The sound of a phone ringing pulls me out of sleep.
Anais stirs beside me, groaning softly as her eyes flutter open and meet mine. She smiles – and something in that look sends pain shooting through my body.
