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I pulled back to look at his flushed face and relaxed gaze, and squeezed the walls of my pussy around him, earning another grunt.
“There’s a full drawer of toys I would like to explore,” I murmured, kissing his chest. His eyes widened at my admission, his dick twitching inside of me. “If you’re up for it, of course.”
I didn’t need to say it twice for him to lift me up, depositing me right next to him before he removed the plug from his ass with a wince. He laid down on his back, looking at me with the softest gaze, and I knew I was in trouble.
And I didn’t fucking mind.
“I’m all yours.”
9
CILLIAN
My entire bodyhummed with newfound energy as my eyes dragged over Evelyn’s sleeping form, kissed by the sun rays slowly trickling through the windows, making her look like a real life angel. For the first time in my life, my mind was at peace, the silence a welcome reprieve after everything we'd done last night.
I'd shown her the dark parts of me, the ugly ones I thought everyone would hate. But she'd told me over and over and over again that there was nothing for me to be ashamed of. There was nothing to be scared of. And as her eyes gazed into mine, it felt as if she could see right inside my soul.
All my fears.
All my deepest, darkest desires.
All my needs.
And she met them all with feverish need, matching my own, as if having me there, stripped naked, writhing and moaning underneath her body was all she'd ever needed to feel alive. And that’s exactly the feeling I’ve been chasing this entire time—the feeling of truly being alive.
We only left the bedroom yesterday to eat, which ended up with me eating her out at the dining table, while she pulled at my hair, screaming my name loud enough for all the neighbors to hear. We'd then moved back to the bedroom where she'd taken control once again, showing me why I needed her, why I wanted this.
But now, in the daylight, the fear dug its claws into my heart, pumping poison through my veins, reminding me that no one would ever be able to understand me, to love me, to truly care for me. I feared she would wake up and take one look at me, giving me nothing but regrets through those green orbs I liked so much, and I couldn’t bear it. So here I was, sitting in the corner of the room, right on the floor, with my back pressed against the wall, waiting for her to shatter my world, to tell me it was all a mistake.
Her blond hair was splayed over my pillows, a stark contrast against the black sheets, and my fingers twitched in my lap, yearning to touch her one more time, to see if she was real. If everything we did last night was real.
My sore body stirred awake as she turned toward me, her angelic features right in front of my eyes, and I prayed that the regrets wouldn’t be what she would grace me with once she looked at me.
I had no idea what I was doing here, what I was trying to accomplish, but I didn’t lie when I said that I couldn’t let her go. My room smelled like sex, like strawberries I now connected with her, and if she decided that she didn’t want this, that she didn’t want me, I would spend my lifetime cherishing the gift she'd given me. I would spend my lifetime remembering the day when I finally took a full breath, without the weight of the world sitting on top of my shoulders.
I often struggled to remember what it was like feeling weightless, happy, with no worries and no obligations I needed to fulfill. And she'd managed to remind me what it was like to just be, to just exist in one fucking day. I was addicted to the taste of her, to the little sounds she made when her lips connected with mine, with flushed cheeks as she looked at me, kneeling behind my body, bringing me the pleasure I'd only ever dreamed of.
She made me lose control yesterday, and I yearned for the feeling again. I yearned for the nothingness she brought when she touched me, when she allowed me to show who I truly was behind closed doors and away from the probing eyes of people that could never understand my wishes and needs.
Heavy was the mask we all had to wear, pretending to be who society wanted us to be, but more often than not it suffocated us more than it helped. Over the years I'd forgotten who I was before I donned the facade, hiding my true self from everyone else.
Her lips parted, her back arching while her eyelashes fluttered. A moan erupted from her open lips, shooting straight to my groin, sending small shivers of pleasure over my body. She was dangerous for me, my new addiction, but just like with drugs, I didn’t want to let go. I wanted to bask in her light, in her, and I knew I would be in a world of trouble if she decided that she truly didn’t want this.
Instead of sitting on the floor, pining after the woman that might not even want me, I pulled myself up, rearranging my aching dick in my pants, and strode out of the room, immediately hating the distance between us. My hands shook as if I were in withdrawal again as I walked toward the living room, and even the cold shower I took this morning didn’t help to stop the shivers, to stop the fear that she would leave me.
I didn’t want to think about the last time I felt like this—this needy, this obsessed—because the last time I did nothing to act on my desires and I lethimgo. I told myself that if I couldn’t have him like that, then I’d be happy just having him in my life.
And as if summoned by my own thoughts, Christian walked from the adjacent kitchen toward the center of the living room, carrying a plate in one hand while his eyes focused on the phone he held in the other. My eyes feasted on the muscles straining against the black T-Shirt he wore, the sharp jawline and the messy blond curls atop of his head that looked as if he kept on dragging his hands through it, messing it all up.
Something tingled in the pit of my stomach, something akin to recognition, and I couldn’t remember the last time I allowed myself to look at him like this. The pants he wore hugged his hips, his thick thighs, the material straining against his muscles as he walked, and the memory from almost ten years ago slammed into me with full force, when I first realized what I felt toward my best friend.
What I felt and what I told myself I could never feel, because he would never look at me in the same way.
Ophelia was the one to notice the way I looked at him, the way my eyes twinkled every single time he was in the room, but she couldn’t understand why I never told him. Hell, I never told her how I felt about her and that was the way of things.
More often than not we desired what we could never have, and this was just another example of the unrequited love that could never be.
Calming my breathing—hell, my entire body—I slowly walked down the stairs, trying to erase the images of Chris and me, kissing, holding each other, living together with Evelyn. It could never happen, at least not in this lifetime, and I had way too many things to deal with to also be plagued by thoughts of a life I wanted to have.
