AllFreeNovel
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The black-out curtains of this room are working against me, but I don’t need the reminder of how beautiful she is. That her body is sin wrapped up in skin-tight jeans and shirts that are just shirts and not meant to be sexy as fuck.
Without warning, I find her wet center and thrust inside, feeling her clench around me and hearing the gaspy little moan that leaves her lips. I drive into her like she’s going to save the world and if I keep pumping into her I’m going to rescue it.
However, bottoming out over and over again isn’t going to be doing me any favors, because I want this to last longer than a few pumps and then everything trying to go back to normal.
It has to, idiot. You’re not endgame.
“Fuck, Kai,” she moans in front of me. “I needed this.”
Same.
She doesn’t know how much. I haven’t screwed anyone since her, and the not-so-funny part about it is that I haven’t been feening for anyone else to wipe the memory of her away like I did after Olivia.
It’s as though I wanted to keep her imprinted in my brain so that I could always remember that it happened.
Which is stupid.
I’m not looking for another dumpster-fire relationship. Especially one with someone I cut checks to. Not someone I pay and fuck while my kids aren’t around.
It may sound immoral to people.
Yet, the only reason I’m sayingnoto this is because I don’t want Molly to get attached to me to the point where she has to leave.
I feel Molly’s ass bounce against my thighs as I continue seizing what I want. Making her come around me so that I can empty out on said body part.
Feeling her raw is reckless and immature.
However, I recall her telling me she’s on the pill and I’m assuming she would’ve stopped me if she isn’t.
Stop worrying about everything.
I can allow myself some selfishness because I haven’t been in years. I took the brunt of Olivia cheating on me like a man and rode that train wreck until the media found something else to talk about.
And while she gets to live happily ever after, I feel as though I’ve been in this rut and I don’t want to open up to anyone else.
But Molly tries without trying.
She demands my attention without asking for it and makes me question what the fuck I’m doing here. She conjures that warm feeling of having someone waiting for me at home and owning them by the end of the night.
Someone to call mine.
Finding her hair, I lightly yank on it so that she straightens out her spine and pulls it flush against my chest. In this new angle, Molly’s hand rests over mine and I know this position is harder than the first.
That she has to rise on her tiptoes so that I’m still inside. But I love how I’m forcing her to work for it and literally be on her toes just so I can fuck her.
“How many boyfriends do you have, Molly?” I’m not sure where the question comes from or why I need to know but, regardless of the answer, it’s still not going to stop this from happening.
“Zero,” she deadpans, and it’s almost hard to believe.
“Bullshit.”
“Need me to get one?”
No.
Because I don’t want to see that glow in her eyes when she comes back home from a good date. When some asshole has dicked her into finally forgetting about me while I have memories floating around in my head.
“You can do what you want,” I profess, even though it doesn’t mean that she can. I know my limits and that I can’t force her to not do anything, but it’s only going to piss me off.
