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Her eyes glaze over with desire. Want.
Need.
We jerk and pull and tug at each other’s bodies, our control and rhythm are completely smashed to smithereens. We’re heated, ferocious and untamed.
I moan into her open mouth, my hips bucking wildly. I’m practically begging for release..
But I’m waiting on her.
Together…I think to myself.
Again, as if reading my thoughts, she squeals, and I grab her hands again, pinning them one more time as she rides out her pleasure.
Her tongue wrestles with mine. We’re wrapped up in this…
It’s a battle.
A battle I’m not sure either of us will win.
I thrust into her, my face scrunching in ecstasy. The vibrations of her scream tickle me as I feel her walls collapse on top of me. With one final push, my building tower of pleasure falters and comes crashing down. My hot seed erupts within her depths; my body is ragged. Spent.
I fall next to her, my chest rising and falling as the guilt washes over me instantaneously.
How am I going to do this…?
Chapter 13
Aria
ItwaseverythingIcould do not to chant his name over and over again. His thrusts were becoming more and more unsteady, and with every pillowing cry, I felt my rhythm falter.
As we pant next to one another in bed, I feel like I’m worshipping him…
Maybe a part of me is.
The man does indeed look like a Greek god.
“Shit…” he mutters. “We are so late…” He pulls his phone to his face and swipes off notifications. Clearly, we’ve pissed someone off.
"I hope that isn’t your way of saying that you just wanted a quick booty call before work," I whisper as he sits up. I smile, watching his body glisten with sweat.
I run my fingers through his hair, and I smile, a giggling laugh escaping me as he turns around and grazes his lips over the top of my breasts.
“I need to …” he starts, his voice breaking. “I…” he quivers. I contort my face in confusion. What’s he trying to say? Since when was he stammering around me? “I need to leave…”
“Stay…” I snuggle into his chest, hoping he lays back down. I’m not the type to ask someone to stay, yet here I am, making a habit of it with him. “There’s plenty of time for work later.”
“No,” he grumbles, sitting up. “I mean, I need to leave for good…”
My head snaps up, and I laugh. “What?” I ask, somewhat amused.
He sighs and sits up, tossing his feet over the bed with an emotion I can’t place. It’s partially anger; and partially something else…His fingers comb through his hair as if he’s frustrated, and he looks down at the floor with what seems like shame. It’s like a whirlwind. I don’t know what to expect from here.…
Why are there so many varying emotions?
I sit up, self consciously holding the sheet against my chest. I grip a fistful of the fabric nervously.
“I have something I have to tell you…” He turns, and his eyebrows are bent. His mouth opens and closes. He’s at a loss for words. They can’t come out, although he’s desperately begging for them.
