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I watch her eyelids fall closed, and her lips part on a contented sigh in the reflection. I gauge her reaction as one of my hands slips over her stomach and between her thighs. Her eyes open and they lock with mine through the mirror drunkenly, telling me it’s okay. Maybe even better than okay.
So I spread her lips and drag a finger over her wet slit, feeling her swollen clit. Blood rushes to my cock, and I try to push my hips back, so she doesn’t feel it, but she reaches behind her and wraps a hand around it over my sweatpants.
“Fuck,”spills from my lips with the slightest tug of her fist.
She looks at me, a silent plea in her eyes. I know what she wants, but she doesn’t want to ask for it. So I swallow down the ball in my throat and whisper in her ear, “Hands on the mirror, princess.”
She leans forward, arching her back. Her eyes never leave mine in the mirror even as I strip and slot my cock at her entrance and push in slowly. Her mouth falls open, and I fill it with my finger. She sucks on it, and I sink myself to the hilt, a deep groan pulled from my chest.
“Again. Tell me more.” I pull my finger from her lips and rub it against her clit, still buried deep in her.
“You…” I slowly withdraw, dragging my piercing against her g-spot. “Made me feel safe and then took it all away.” And I punch my hips forward, pushing all the way into her. She gasps.
I pull out carefully, and she continues breathlessly as I continue to circle her clit, “You made me feel like I wasn’t worthy of gentle love.” I pound back in, my heart cracking at her confession.
“Oh god,”tumbles from her lips as I drag against her inner walls and firmly rub her clit. I feel her body begin to tighten around my length.
“Don’t stop, princess.”
“And I hate—oh fuck.”I thrust again and her body trembles, her orgasm cresting.
“What do you hate?” I say through gritted teeth. Her clenching cunt feels like heavenly torture.
“I hate that Ican’thate you,” she cries and shatters.
“I know. I’m so sorry.” I groan as her pussy contracts and demands. This moment of raw vulnerability is seared in my mind forever. It pulls my own release from me, and I hope she can feel she is so much more than just a body, that these bodily pleasures are just the bridge to something more, beyond family rivalries, forced marriages, lies, and betrayals.
I fold over her, breathing hard and sated. My arms tightly wrapped around her waist even as my legs threaten to give out. I gently pull out of her, and she whimpers like it’s a loss. I pick my sweatpants off the ground and tenderly wipe away my cum spilling out of her, though I can’t help but push a little back inside.
I pick her up and cradle her tight to my chest, soaking up these last moments of her warm skin against mine. I set her on the bed and pull the quilt over her. She’s curled up on her side, and I kiss her temple, breathing in her addictive scent.
When I walk away, a hand reaches out and stops me.
And she says one word that has me carving out my heart and handing it to her, bloody and beating:Stay.
1.Something in the Orange—Zach Bryan
2.Darkest Hour—Andrea Russett
Chapter 15
Married Man
Effie
Forsomeonesocoldin affect, Finneas Fox is a goddamn Bunsen burner. His front sticks to my back with a thin sheen of sweat as he breathes into my neck. I slowly try to extract myself from his koala grip without waking him. I pick up his wrist and carefully lift it off my waist, but it clamps back down and he growls behind me, “Where do you think you’re going, princess?” His morning voice is raspy and warm and makes butterflies erupt in my stomach.
“You’re a thousand degrees, Finneas. I’m going to shower.” I roll onto my knees and kiss his cheek before making another attempt. He grabs my ankle and tugs me back.
“I like that you smell like me,” he moans and pins my body under his. He lightly rocks his pelvis against my ass and heat strikes my core.Oh, how easy it would be to flip over…
But I’m sweaty and covered in paint—Shit!
“The sheets!” Anxiety throttles through me, and I thrash under Finn, trying to get a look at the damage. Gold paint is smudged all over the middle of the bed. “Oh my god, I ruined them.”
Like a rising tide of guilt and shame, I feel the strongest need to fix it, hide it, anything to avoid the repercussions. “Finn, get off me!” He keeps me trapped and nerves turn to frustration.Doesn’t he see the problem?
“Effie, what the fuck is going on?” There’s annoyance in his voice, because of course there is, he must be pissed.
