“Look at yourself,” he says, with a growl to his voice.
I don’t know why I listen. I don’t want to see this. But I do, my head snapping up to look at myself in the mirror. I see his hand and my body, squirming against him, trying to fuck harder into his fist, my face flushed and my mouth shaped around the moans I can’t hold back.
“Look at your little cock disappearing into my fist.” He sounds like he’s making fun of me, a laugh in his words, but he’s still stroking me so good. “That’s all you need.”
“Fuck you,” I manage through gritted teeth, determined not to moan when his hand tightens in response.
He moves back to my neck, and the suction starts up again. I know I should tell him to stop. I should shove him off of me. But this ishishand, andhismouth, and I want to stay in this moment forever.
Once he’s satisfied, his lips come back to my ear. “Did you fuck her?”
I don’t answer. I don’t want to. I don’t want to think about that right now with him giving me what I want. I need his mouth back on my neck. I need to come. I need—
His hand slows to a leisurely pace. “Did you?”
“Will, please—”
He stops completely, loosening his grip, making me whimper as my hips chase the friction that isn’t there anymore. I plead with my eyes in the mirror, but he doesn’t budge, waiting for me to answer.
“Yes,” I say, desperately. “Yes, we slept together.”
His hand starts again, and I exhale in relief, relaxing back against him. But apparently, he’s not satisfied because his voice is back at my ear, taking on that mean tone again. “Bet you were thinking about me the whole time.”
I watch myself in the mirror, my face redder than it’s ever been, the marks on my neck, the way the head of my cock disappears inside his fist as he strokes me.
He can make fun of me all he wants, but I never want to stop seeing that.
“Yes,” I admit, too far gone to be embarrassed. “I was thinking about you.”
“Because I’m the one you want,” he adds, and it’s almost gentle as his left hand comes up to press down on my stomach, pinning me against him so I stop squirming.
I nod, meeting his eyes in the mirror with a whine as he twists his hand. “You’re the one I want.”
At that, he picks up the pace, stroking me faster, bringing me close to the edge like he could have done it this entire time and was holding back.
My hands land on his arm, fingers digging in to ground myself, and I let it happen, my mind blank other than the need I feel for him.
He holds me tighter as my knees go weak and I moan out loud, coming so hard that some of it lands on the mirror.
I watch myself, my chest heaving up and down, my cock softening in his hand and dropping when he lets go. I want to say something, to turn around and kiss him and ask him if this meant nothing to him. But before I can catch my breath, his hands leave my body, and he steps back.
He turns away, walks toward the door, and leaves through it, without sparing me another glance.
I guess it didn’t mean anything after all.
I lay down in my bed without getting dressed, curling onto my side, facing the wall. At some point, I pull the blanket up to my face, trying to mask the smell of his cologne he left behind. But I can’t.
The room smells like him now.
I smell like him.
I’ve never felt so alone. Unwanted. Lying alone in my too-big bed while Will leaves like I’m nothing.
Because that’s what I am to him.
Nothing.
Chapter 14
