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But it doesn’t end. Not when he keeps driving in me from below and playing with my nipples as he chases his own orgasm.
I bite my lower lip, watching his face contort as he releases deep inside me.
I can feel his cum pouring out of me and I release a sigh as I collapse on top of him, my head colliding with his thundering heartbeat.
As if it’s planning to leap out of his chest and slip into mine.
I love you, I want to say, but I can’t.
What if it ruins this moment? What if I lose him again?
If my feelings scare him, then there’s no need for them.
There’s no need for stupid emotions that only got me in trouble before. I’m fine with just this.
Or at least I try to think that I am.
Unrequited love hurts. No matter how much I try to hide it, it escapes to a deeper part of me and remains hauled in there, festering, turning to a bitter pill I swallow every morning.
Every day.
Every year.
I tried to cure myself of the Daniel disease. I truly did, and I thought I succeeded all those years I was busy raising Jay and surviving in a world that spat me out like chewed gum.
But seeing him again, being with him, reaching to a secret part of him is just too much.
I’m not strong enough to resist that.
To resist him.
“The art of pain is an abstract form of vengeance,” I read his tattoo in the silence of the room. “Who said that?”
“Me.”
“I didn’t know you were a philosopher.”
“I’m not. I dreamt about it.”
I prop my elbows on his chest to stare at him. “A dreamer, too. You keep surprising me, Dan.”
A grin paints his lips and that’s really not good for me because his dimples appear and they’re so mesmerizing and beautiful and dangerous for me. “Mission accomplished.”
“Do you still want revenge against me?”
“No. I don’t think I even wanted that in the first place, I just…channeled those negative thoughts into that specific jar.”
“Does that mean you’ll stop being mean?”
“Was I?”
“You were a dick.”
“Happy to see you have colorful language in your dictionary, Miss Prude.”
My fingers find the blood on his forehead and I try to wipe it away. “I curse internally sometimes. What I showed was never what I felt.”
He breathes heavily. “I’m starting to see that.”
