Page 24 of Angels Fall

I climb on top of him, my hand still very busy keeping him quiet as my legs settle between his knees, and then it’s my turn to wink.

The smile he shoots back sums up everything I hate and love about Tyler. And the gruff chuckle has my pussy throbbing. I keep my eyes locked on his as I lower my mouth to his cock, my tongue reaching for his tip, and hike my ass up in the air just as I cover his head with my lips and slide my mouth down his shaft.

His hands go to my hair, grabbing it in fistfuls. A shiver runs through my body as I think about the way he was pulling it a few minutes ago. I take him deeper into my throat, his hands responding to the call, pushing my head down until his cock is practically in my throat. I gag, pull away, but he holds me there until saliva is pooling in my mouth. I pull back again, but he doesn’t relent and the pool becomes a waterfall spilling over my lips and down my chin.

Finally, he lets up and I draw back, sucking in air, watching him watch me. His smile is gone, no frown replacing it. He’s just looking at me like… like I’m his fucking salvation. Like I’m the only hope he has left.

I dive back down to try to erase that look, my eyes closed now, my mouth working him as I bob my head to the rhythm of his rocking hips.

He fists my hair again, but this time he tugs my head up until his cock falls out of my mouth. Erect, and red, and swollen, and glistening wet from my sucking and pumping.

I don’t want to look. I refuse to look at him.

“Maddie,” he groans, the word just a hint above silent.

I shake my head and try to suck his cock again, but he holds me by the hair, tugging it up towards him now, like it’s a leash and he’s leading me.

“Shut up,” I say, my voice as husky and low as his. “Just shut up.”

He opens his mouth as if to reply, but then he closes his eyes and sighs. Giving up or giving in, I don’t really care. Because he lets me resume.

I forget everything as I suck him off. One hand reaching down to play with his balls, which makes him tense up and box me in with his knees.

For some reason that makes me want to cry. I’m not sure if it’s because I like the way he’s surrounding me right now, when the whole world is falling apart and every day I fight the inevitable decline, but every night I close my eyes feeling utterly alone and defeated, and being boxed in by Tyler wipes all that away. Or if it’s because I’m just lonely and haven’t had anyone make me feel so… protected in so long.

Either way, I can’t deny the sadness of the moment. So I don’t. I embrace it. I let the tears flow, my face hidden by my long, flaming-red hair. And I just suck his cock until everything goes tight. His body. His grip on my hair. The pressure of his knees against my shoulders.

He urges me to back off, probably so he can put me on top of him before he comes. But if I do that, he’ll see my face. He’ll see through my charade. He’ll see everything and I don’t want him to see anything.

So I refuse and just work harder. I suck him until he starts moaning. I flatten my tongue on his shaft and force myself to take him deeper into my throat. And when I swallow, the muscles pushing against his cock in a wave do him in.

He comes.

And I take it. Because I can take it. I swallow every drop. I let him fist my hair until my scalp stings. And when it’s finally over I have it all back together. The unraveling of Maddie Clayton has wrapped back up into a tightly wound ball of nothing.

I say, “Take me to the shower,” because I need to feel clean after everything that’s happened these past few days. And he does, cracking some boyishly-charming joke that hits me hard. Because I love that part of him. The innocent Tyler. The one I could always count on. The one who I loved once.

But I don’t love the one who loves me now.

I’m falling and it’s a long fucking way down. And I know, if I get my hopes up that Tyler will catch me before I splat, he’ll only disappoint me again.

I can take a lot, but I can’t take that.

I can’t fucking do it again.

I lean against the wall of the shower, water splashing against my hip as Tyler soaps me up. He fingers me, and plays with my breasts. And we kiss and it feels good. So fucking good. I even talk a little, but beg for bed because I’m exhausted.

It’s not a lie, either. I am exhausted. So, so tired of this fight I never seem to win.

He dries me off. It’s a tender gesture that once upon a time I’d have appreciated more. And then he leads me to my bed, and we climb in, and he talks, and I pretend to live this new fantasy with him. Until finally, I don’t have to pretend anymore. Because he falls asleep, or I fall asleep, or who the fuck cares.

All I know is that the day finally ends.

I wake early by some miracle of fate, or punishment, or maybe it’s the devil on my shoulder just calling me home to hell.

Either way, I heed the call and get up for my new shift at Pete’s, quietly gather my clothes and dress in the new dawn light, grab the car keys left carelessly on the counter, write two notes, leaving one behind, then exit the house with the other note clutched tightly in my hand.

I lift his windshield wiper, slide the piece of paper under it so that it’ll be the first thing he sees when he comes outside, and then go get into Annie’s car and drive off.