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A scoff pushes from my lips with the watery roll of my eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Casper nods, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth. There’s a fleeting moment where I contemplate telling him that I’m pregnant with his child. One small moment where his eyes are boring into mine and my soul doesn’t feel so alone. It’s easy to believe that everything could be all right.
A lie that I’ve been telling myself since that first time he kissed me. The first time he fucked me in an empty hospital room. That lie evaporates, and all the feelings come crashing down on me.
Silly feelings that only make it harder to keep the truth from him, and from myself. This isn’t love. Not for him. I’m a heap of warm flesh that he can use and get lost in. As and when he needs. A temporary fix.
Pulling a condom from his rumpled joggers, he holds it out to me. “Put it on.”
An almost laugh escapes me, sounding surly.
What use is it? What use was it in the first place?
“You want me to do it?” Leaning back onto his elbows, his eyes peruse down my body to where my hand hovers over his proud, girthy erection.
The hiss as I roll the condom over his dick makes my stomach knot. That sound—something between desperate and uncontrolled—gets me every time. A call to my baser needs that surpasses my logic. A warning to my being of what’s about to come.
Casper drags me up his body, and the length of his dick rubs down my clit until the tip lodges at my entrance. Before I can drag a burning breath into my lungs, he impales me. One swift, hard thrust pushes all the wind out of me in a muted scream.
His cock bottoms out, sending frissons of pain and pleasure through me, so deep I’m not really sure where he ends and I begin.
“Fuck, your cunt’s tight,” he bites out, his hands clawing my hips as he holds me down over him, his throbbing dick stretching me. It’s always like this. Every time we fuck it feels like he’s splitting me in half, and the only things holding me together are his big, strong hands.
Finally loosening his hold, he works me over him until I’m covered in goosebumps, and the brush of the air on my skin makes me ache. My body chases his as he thrusts into me mercilessly, my hands uselessly trying to find purchase on his ink-covered skin.
He eases his efforts, and my body chills with the need for him to keep going. To keep taking. To keep fucking me until everything falls away and there’s nothing of importance.
“Don’t stop,” I moan, bringing his hands up to my breasts.
The Vs of his hands bracket my small assets, and as I sink as deep as I can over him, his thumbs strum my hard nipples. And fuck, I’m there. I’m so there. Everything inside me is thrumming. Our surroundings blur around the edges.
When I’m unable to keep up, he takes over, fucking himself with my body to my cries and his guttural grunts.
My eyes close. Everything spins, violently sweeping me into unstoppable heaves. The sweet orange taste comes back to haunt me, and I have to throw myself off him, holding my sick in my mouth while I d
ash into the bathroom.
Barely managing to make it to the toilet, I slam the bathroom door shut behind me, collapsing on the floor in front of it. It doesn’t matter how many times I wretch into it, bile keeps coming, and as I lay my head on the seat, a warm hand brushes my jaw-length hair from my face.
My eyes meet Casper’s. While he stares at me with the most concern he’s ever held in them, I burrow my cheek into his palm. One of my hands slips to my stomach as his thumb swipes over the curve of my lip. Crouching in front of me, he holds my gaze as though he’s trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. As if he honestly cares. Silently he strokes over my lip, down to the dip of my chin and back before he walks to the sink and wets the hand towel.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. For the situation and for not telling him.
He’s got his joggers on, but his top half is bare. The muscles move beneath the taught skin, making his tattoos come to life. Beautiful and dark. A mishmash of scrolls, swirls, and intricate geometric patterns that knit together around the stained-glass-like crucifix etched along his spine. He’s a sight to behold even with my head on the loo.
“You can always say no.” He finds me through the reflection in the mirror while he wrings the towel. His eyes lower back to the sink, and I’m sure both of our gazes pause on the pharmacy bag next to him at the same time.
Silence falls around us. My heart plummets to the pit of my stomach with a burst of pain that has me spewing into the toilet all over again.
“Fuck…” His curse is followed by the clutter of plastic into the porcelain sink. One by one, I count every test that I took as he goes through the bag. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck… Fuck…”
Being starkers in front of a guy like Casper is intimidating. Being naked in front of a guy like Casper when he discovers you’re pregnant with his child…is terrifying. And not because he’ll hurt me, but because I know how his mind works. He’s going to assume the worst.
“So much for not fucking other people.” He turns to me, his face drawn into a scowl, making every single one of my fears come to life.
“I haven’t,” I tell him, pulling one of the bath towels from the radiator.
He takes a step farther away from me as I stand, wrapping the towel around myself. I have no idea what I thought would happen between us beyond the sex. Falling pregnant certainly wasn’t it.
