AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A rasp of a promise.
A lie I shouldn’t believe.
But my heart…it aches to hear more of his voice when it’s not spurting insults at me.
My body…it vibrates to the notes that resonate when he speaks.
My beautiful Ethan. Life never loved him, so he lovesnothingin return.
His calloused fingers drag up my thigh, his thumb coming to rest on my slit.
Before I even register what my reaction should be, he rests back on his haunches, keeping his thumb in place. With his other hand, he brushes my tits above my clothes and keeps going up until he can trace the outline of my lips.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs to himself.
That word on his lips means everything. Because he said it before everyone else. He said it, whispered it, moaned it when the rest of the world threw insults in my face about how ugly I was.
I wasn’t ugly. I was myself. I was growing up. I was a teenager finding herself.
Something I apparently wasn’t allowed to do. Someone cut it short. They spat on my teen years and forced adulthood into my body. Into my state of mind.
They made me a monster.
Ethan…Ethan kept my soul alive. That’s why he was the only one capable of destroying it.
His thumb presses against my slit, parting my lips, and he easily finds my clit, like the blueprint of my body is still on his mind.
Like he knows me inside out.
“You gave in,” he whispers.
I know he’s talking about Elliot, but I don’t understand why he sounds so disappointed about it.
“Talk to me.” I bring a hand to his face at the same time my hips lift to meet his strokes against my clit.
He’s so soft.
So caring.
So him.
And yet the complete opposite of what he wants to do. I know that.
He slaps my hand away from his face and brings his finger back to my mouth, all the while still playing with my clit so carefully; I become the same as the instruments he’s learned to master.
"Say something,” I say against his thumb, the tension building inside my body. “How you feel. What you want. The truth. Anything, Ethan. Anything but the pretense of hate you have toward me.”
Instead of doing just that, he shoves two fingers into my mouth and picks up his pace.
“You want to let him touch you?”
I moan when he pinches my clit. “You want to become a whore for Elliot? Is that it?”
Instead of pushing him away, I press harder into him. He lets go of my clit to coat his fingers in my wetness and pushes one in, then another.
“If you knew the things he did to get you.”
I moan around his fingers. I want to ask him to explain everything, to stop the games.
