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“Yes Sebastian, fuck!” I cry out in agony at the intense pleasure of his teeth grazing my sensitive peak. He grins against my breasts, sucking like a beast, licking circles around my taut peak before tugging at it with his teeth. Quickly he moves to my other breast, doing the same thing he just did and it’s enough to nearly send me over the edge. I usually don’t come this fast, actually I usually don’t come at all, unless it’s me intentionally doing it, but with Sebastian I come with just one fucking lustrous look.
This is a million times better than I could have ever imagined. He’s a magnificent creature, dark haired, fairly tanned, eyes like the midnight sky on a gloomy day, and lips made from the softest, sweetest, most tantalizing of things. His body looks like it was sculpted by the Romans, his strong jaw chiseled by the Greeks, and his fucking cock, well that was carved from the deepest, most insatiable depths of my imagination. He was made for me to ride, he was made for me to kiss, he was just simply made for me.
Worst of all, he fucking knows it.
The look in his eyes as I open mine, brings me to the brink of no return, my orgasm rippling savagely through me as he tightens his hold on my neck marring my skin with the imprint of his fingers.
But it’s the look in his eyes as he shoots his luscious, silky cum in me that I’ve awakened to every morning since the moment he fucked me for the first time that night.
???
I’m startled awake by the ache in my loins threatening to consume me if I don’t finish myself off and relieve the tension in me since I discovered my fate last night. I’m lying in my bed, in my old room back at the Grayson’s Foster House sweating profusely, my heart beating frantically, and my breathing uneven as I lay here gasping for air, completely stunned by the dream I just had.
More like the memory, the flashback of the first night I gave into my obsession and fucked Sebastian Silver. Well more like let Sebastian Silver tie me up, choke me, and fuck me. Hard.
The way my body fit perfectly with his and how after that precise moment, I broke and gave in to him countless more times. I was no longer in charge of my own body let alone mind, no longer in control of the intense desire, the insatiable hunger I had for him.
That right there was my fucking mistake.
I should have never given up total control, but if only it hadn’t felt so fucking good. Because of that moment of weakness, because of the utter unquenchable thirst, I will be paying for it for the rest of my life. The reminder of the mess I’ve created for myself consumes me as I quickly get up and run to the bathroom, dropping down to my knees and spilling out the remnants of whatever it is I ate last night, a burger maybe, into the toilet bowl before me. I vomit voraciously into the bowl, my body convulsing, choking on the endless bile rising in me. My eyes are watery and the vomit escaping through my nostril’s burns profusely.
After I have nothing left in me to expel, I lean back against the toilet with a bitter taste in my mouth, hyperventilating, and wiping off the vomit with the back of my sleeve.
The image of last night haunts my every thought, like a horror movie playing over and over in my head. The stupid plus sign flashing across the screen, my blood dropping to my feet, my heart flipping the fuck out, and the bile rising from deep within my stomach threatening to erupt like it did just now.
Positive.
Pregnant.
And utterly fucking screwed.
The two-syllable word sounds like the worst kind of nightmare, one that comes to life and leaves me with nowhere to run and hide.
Though the problem now isn’t what that stupid test, or five, said. It’s that I never expected to want this or anyone as much as I find myself wanting him. I honestly didn’t think it was possible to feel anything other than hatred, or on the rare occasion, lust for a man, but this is something else entirely. A burning in my veins, a throbbing in my core, an aching in my whole being. I’ve been put under a dangerous hypnosis, one I can’t risk falling into. My sister once saidlove is for those afforded the privilege of making mistakes. For those who have the opportunity of choosing to blindly trust another over their own judgement. Of allowing themselves to let their guard down and live with the impending threat of never being able to come back from the disappointment that is to ensue.
She was right. We were awarded the opportunity of witnessing this truth firsthand as naïve little girls before we made a mistake. Love is an illusion, a fantasy we wish to believe because the thought of no one genuinely loving us, is too harsh a reality to swallow. So we trick ourselves into believing someone out there will choose to see us in a different light. To see us for what we wish we were instead of what we really are. It’s the harsh truth.
But what if I’ve finally found someone who will love me? What will thismistakecost me? What will I have to sacrifice? What perpetual lifetime mistake will I be willing to commit, all for a fleeting moment? Can I risk everything?
I guess I’m about to find out.
Because whether I’m ready to accept it or not, the fact of the matter remains unchanged. Sebastian Silver’s baby is growing inside of me.
There is a little monster in me and I just might do what I do best.
Run.
