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I can’t wash away this feeling.
I’m not even sure that I want to anymore.
Grabbing my dick, I press my forehead against the tiles and suck in a sharp breath as I slide my fist up and down my cock. I pump it hard, tugging on it aggressively as I try my damndest to purge my fucking self of these feelings.
I can’t have her.
I can’t fucking have her.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t want her.
Because, fuck, I do.
I do.
“I motherfucking do!” I shout, pumping my dick, fucking my fist, relishing in the feel of my balls tingling and the pleasure building in the base of my spine. All of it for her, because of her.
She’s my sweet, sweet temptation.
I rock my hips, my fist curling as I press my forearm against the tiled wall. Water runs in rivulets over my skin, cold and sharp but the heat within me builds as I pick up speed, recalling the way Kate lost herself to the power she conjured up on that stage. When she stopped dancing for me, and started dancing for herself, every single atom in my motherfucking body was set alight. She transformed before my eyes and I was gone, lost.
A man cast adrift pulled and tousled within the eddies of her seduction. I was gasping for breath watching her twist and turn her body around the pole, just like I’m gasping for breath thinking about her now. I’ve never wanted to be a piece of metal more than at that moment. I wanted her legs wrapped around me, her hands on me, her arse and pussy pressed up against me.
If my heart wasn’t hers before then, it certainly became it in that moment.
And that’s what fucking kills me.
Because I made a goddamn promise.
To her father.
To myself.
And it kills me knowing that I can’t have her.
“God-fucking-damn-it!” I yell, bashing my fist against the wall as I squeeze my dick, holding back the orgasm building, feeling fucking guilt and shame for wanting Kate so fucking badly. Punishing myself for something I shouldn’t want, can’t have, but need. Fuck I need.
In another fucking universe, she’d be mine already, but a man’s word is his bond and I’m bound to Carter, to a promise I made him, and by extension a promise I made Kate.
I’m her bodyguard.
I protect her from everyone,includingme.
Knowing that doesn’t soften my dick though. It doesn’t stop me from seeing Kate in my mind’s eye. It doesn’t stop me from remembering the way she’d sauntered over to me covered in a sheen of sweat, dripping with new-found confidence. It doesn’t stop me from recalling how it felt to look up at Kate and know that I will never want anyone like I want her.
It’s a truth I can’t run from, that I will have to face every fucking day in her presence and then even when I’m not. I’m going to have to pretend.
I’m going to have to keep a tight lid on my emotions. I’m going to have to cut myself off from her emotionally. But right here and now…
Right here and now, I let go of the pretence, the barrier I’ve built between us, and for one fucking moment I allow myself to believe I can have her, that there isn’t a fucking ocean between us filled with sharks all wanting to rip us apart. I allow myself to believe that she’s my queen, and I’m whatever she wants me to be. That we’ll be together for the rest of our motherfucking lives.
I allow myself this moment to see a future together, where I can touch her when I want, kiss her when I need to, and fuck her until we’re both drowning in pleasure.
I let myself imagine what it’s like to cup her breasts, to lick and tease her nipples, to leave my teeth indents on the mound of her arse, to bring her pussy to my face demanding she sit so I can suffocate in her scent and her arousal. I let myself imagine what it’s like to slide my cock into her pussy all the while staring deeply into her soulful eyes. I let myself imagine how I will move slowly, drawing out her pleasure in a long, spine-tingly, toe-curling orgasm, until her eyes roll back in her head and she calls my name. I let myself imagine how I’d let her come down from that orgasm then fuck her hard and fast so she knows just how feral she makes me, how brutal, how animalistic.
Right now I let myself fuck her, I let myself rut into her as I pull on my dick roughly, and jerk my hips into the ghost of her image in my mind. My imagination runs riot and my dick engorges, the piercings making everything feel so much more intense. I imagine fucking her against the wall in my apartment in that sexy as fuck red dress she wore hitched up over her hips, the material bunched in my fist as I ram into her. She claws at me, her teeth sinking into my shoulder as she opens herself up to me.
“That’s it Princess, take me deep,” I say, the words slipping from my lips and muffled by the spray of the shower and the slippery wet sound of my fingers fisting my dick.
I allow myself to envisage that moment when her inner walls tighten around me and she milks my dick, when she tattoos her pleasure all over my cock, marking me forever just like I mark her insides with my cum.
“KATE!” I shout, coming with that thought burning in my chest, fast and furious like a star imploding. It blinds me, and I stumble against the tiled wall, weakened by lust, floored by need, consumed by her as my cum spurts in thick, white ropes over my fist, washed away seconds later by the spray.
I stand there with my back against the tiles, my chest heaving, my dick slowly softening as my heart returns to a steadier pace. As my orgasm fades, I push myself upright on unsteady legs, wash myself robotically and step out of the shower to dry myself off. With every passing minute I lock all my emotions down, forcing those thoughts into a box inside my mind, never to be opened again.
