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Fiona
Deep purple bruises dot both of my breasts, lesions I barely even registered as they were happening. Boyd’s eyes glow as he runs his thumb over the spots, and he slides his hand up, smoothing over my throat, before gripping below my chin and tilting my head back.
My ass sits on the edge of the sink while he licks his free thumb and slips it between my legs, pushing the elastic of my plain cotton panties aside and finding my clit immediately.
He swirls in tight, rhythmic circles that have me panting within seconds, grasping at the dress shirt he has on, trying to ground myself into the moment.
“Gonna fuck you in the light this time,” he rasps in my ear, drawing me nearer to the edge of euphoria with each stroke of my pussy, each puff of breath that rolls over my skin. “Make sure you can’t hide your shame in the dark.”
“Wait!” I squeal, feeling the head of his cock bump against my entrance; my core expands, desperate to suck him in, but my brain is running a million miles a minute. “I’m seeing someone.”
He pauses, lifting his chin to raise his eyebrows. “What?”
“Well, we’ve been on one date.”
“Did you let him fuck you?”
I shake my head, my cheeks so hot I feel faint.
He scoffs, pressing against me again. “Doesn’t fucking count, then.”
“Wait.” Huffing, I press my hand to his chest. “Have you been with anyone else?”
“I don’t even dream about anyone else, princess.”
It all happens with lightning speed; my orgasm crests as he finishes his sentence, my pussy apparently starved for his attention, and then he’s unbuckling his slacks and letting them fall to his knees, fisting his angry dark pink cock, rolling the silver barbell on its underside over my sensitive clit, and pushing into me before I’ve even recovered from my haze of explosive desire.
The pinch of pain snaps me out of it, though, and when Boyd drops his hands to my legs, tightening their grip on his waist, I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on.
He fucks me hard against the sink, a punishment all its own—like each manic thrust in is his way of releasing the anger and hurt I’ve caused him, and each time he pulls out to the tip, I feel empty and wanton, before he slams back in again.
Part of the sink pulls away from the wall with the force of his fucking, and I let out a string of incoherent sounds as pressure coils tight in my stomach, his piercing seeming to rub against a spot inside of me, creating unimaginable ecstasy.
“Touch yourself for me, princess,” he rasps, the strain in his voice indicating that he’s close. “Work your clit and come on my dick so I can fill you up.”
Reaching my hand between us, I obey his command, my fingers rubbing, the friction making my pussy spasm around him. He groans, long and low, his pumps growing erratic as he pulls back just enough to watch me.
“Look at me,” he snaps, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. The fact that he’s still completely dressed while I’m in a state of disarray makes it a thousand times more erotic, and I lock my gaze with his as I combust, shocks of electricity zinging through each of my nerve endings.
He comes at the same time, seating himself as deep inside of me as he can get, groaning against my neck as he pulses his release. We’re slicked with sweat and reek of sex, but for a second, it’s easy to pretend like nothing went wrong with us in the first place.
Until he rips himself from me and stalks to the other side of the room, glaring like I’ve done something wrong.
“You’re seeing someone?”
Sliding off the sink with my jelly legs, I adjust my dress and pick my cardigan off the floor, tying it around my waist. I feel him leak down my thigh, but he’s standing in front of the toilet paper looking like someone two seconds from a psychotic break, so I ignore it, anxiety sliding over me like a second skin.
“Was I supposed to just sit around and wait for you to get your shit together, Boyd? Supposed to die hoping you’d come back to me?”
“Goddamnit. Goddamnit. I am such a fucking weak bastard.” He laughs, but the sound is short and startled. Chaotic. Lifting his hand, he points a finger in my direction, wagging it like I’m in trouble. “You dumped me, Fiona. Stop trying to make it seem like I had any say in the matter.”
“I didn’t want to dump you. I just wanted to be able to trust you.” I swallow, my eyes burning. “I wanted you to choose me over the facade the rest of the world gets. I still want you to choose me.”
His mouth opens, a response poised on his tongue, but then it clamps closed like he thinks better of saying it.
Reaching up, he scrubs his hands down his face, exhaling throatily. “You wanted my secrets. The biggest one is waiting for me downstairs.”
I take that as my cue to leave, thinking he’s saying he needs to get back to her, but when my hand touches the doorknob, he continues.
