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A scream tears from my throat as I come, my entire body trembling with intensity. The darkness closes in around me like a vise, accompanied by a wave of pleasure so consuming that I almost black out from the sheer force of it. It’s not just Desmond making me feel this way, but the other man I haven’t seen yet. I throw my head back and succumb to the blissful exhaustion that consumes me.
This time, when I come to, it’s to find Desmond wiping my sensitive pussy and the seat beneath me.
“I’ve never seen so much slick,” Lyric says.
Lyric?I should have known. My head feels too heavy to turn and look at him, so I lazily blink my eyes open to see Desmond and his lust filled gaze.
He’s silent as he puts his shirt into the backseat and then gently lifts my chin. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs.
My door shuts.
Everything blinks in and out of focus as the backdoor opens and closes. The engine’s rumble gradually fades into the distance, and the world outside becomes a distant memory as we travel. Sleep rushes in and out from the gentle rocking of the car.
Fingers brush over my skin, guiding me gently from the car, their touch both tender and reassuring, and then I’m weightless as arms lift and carry me.
I drift in and out of consciousness, the transition from the car to the house a blur of sensations and muted voices. Whispers murmur softly in the background, a soothing lullaby that lures me deeper into my cocoon of peace. My mind floats on the edge of dreams, disconnected from reality as if I’m in a liminal space between wakefulness and slumber.
The softness of the bed gradually cradles my body, offering a temporary respite from the intensity of the moments before. My skin tingles with a delightful warmth, a contrast to the sheets that are cool and smooth, enveloping me in a gentle, silken embrace. I sink deeper into their comforting texture, allowing myself to surrender fully to the experience, and as I do, my anxieties and worries begin to dissolve, leaving behind a tranquil state of mind.
The world outside slowly fades away, its demands and pressures receding into the background. In this newfound sanctuary, I’m embraced by a profound sense of peace I haven’t tasted in years. It’s like being transported to a realm where time feels suspended, where worries lose their grip, and the weight of expectations and responsibilities that have burdened me for so long is lifted, if only temporarily.
My breaths become deeper, more rhythmic, syncing with the gentle rise and fall of my chest. The outside world is distant, its noise replaced by a soothing, hushed symphony of peace.
I let my worries drift away like leaves on a tranquil stream, each one carried by the current of relaxation. With my eyes closed, I allow myself to fully embrace this moment of stillness and comfort as sleep begins to wash over me, carrying me further into the depths of this blissful sanctuary.
The murmurs persist, a gentle cadence that lulls me further into tranquility. I miss the words. They are mere echoes, a distant symphony of voices that I’m too weary to decipher. It doesn’t matter though, I’m beyond caring, lost in the blissful haze of exhaustion.
A body presses against mine under the covers, and I instinctively roll toward the warmth, seeking solace in the presence beside me. My eyes flutter open briefly, meeting a raven’s gaze, its dark eyes reflecting a sense of protection and comfort. It’s Lyric, I realize, his reassuring presence a balm to my fractured soul.
For the first time in weeks, maybe even years, I surrender to the tranquility of the night. The weight of the world eases, and I sleep soundly, carried away by the rhythm of peaceful dreams.
Chapter Two
Dreams are odd little things,aren’t they? They happen when we believe our minds are at rest, but actually, the mind is far from still. It races forward through memories of the day prior, reliving moments, developing and discarding possible future scenarios, and reorganizing emotions within little boxes on a mental shelf.
The pale morning light just barely filters through the curtains. It’s just a sliver, but enough to turn the world gray. It’s always a welcome sight for me, but now it feels more like an intrusion. Normally, it’s my favorite time of day. The way the sun slowly rises above the horizon always makes me feel alive.
Someone once said that my love of sleeping was simply a symptom of depression, and they might have been right, but maybe I just lacked enthusiasm for the things in front of me—no exciting adventures at my doorstep, no surprises around the bend, nothing to excite me about life. I’d beg to differ though, because Milo is and will always be my inspiration to take a breath each morning and see what the new day brings.
He’s also the reason my eyes pop open, because I can feel someone watching me. As my eyes open and blink into focus, I find Milo staring at me, his little face scrunched up in a tiny ball of wrinkles and his head tilted to the side.
“Milo?” I mumble groggily, my body feeling heavy like I slept for days. Disoriented, I reach for my phone, blinking at the brightness of the screen. It’s six-thirty in the morning. I’m still struggling to piece together the events of last night after what felt like my second or perhaps third climax with Desmond in his car. My head is spinning from the blend of murder and pleasure.
“That isn’t the man you left with.” Milo reaches out and pokes the arm wrapped around my body. “Nor is it Matty.”
My eyes bulge in abject terror, and I desperately search my brain for an answer. Why isn’t there a manual for this? Every book I’ve read on parenting has failed me! My heart pounds hard, threatening to jump through my rib cage and escape. I’m completely out of my depth, my lungs pleading for oxygen that doesn’t come.
I’m awake now, but I’m also naked. Luckily, the blanket is up over my shoulder, but Lyric’s hand is not.
I feel Lyric stir behind me as he rises to glance at Milo. Hopefully, he’ll know how to handle this situation, because I am at a loss for words.
“Hello, Milo,” Lyric mumbles sleepily, and damn me to hell, but it’s the cutest thing ever. “I just so happen to be Matty’s little brother.”
“That doesn’t explain why you are in my sister’s bed.” Milo crosses his arms and stands tall, his blue eyes knowing far more than they should.
When I was about his age, I remember walking in on my parents. It was the middle of the night, and I thought I heard a ghost haunting their room. In my defense, I secretly watched thePoltergeistmovies, mildly convinced that they built every house on ancient burial grounds and the ghosts of those buried there wanted us gone.
Unrealistic? Yes, but tell that to my eight-year-old self. She was far more imaginative than my twenty-four-year-old self. I knocked on their door, and they didn’t answer. Convinced this was one of those moments where we needed a priest, I grabbed a pin and unlocked their door, only to find…
