“Let’s see if you really don’t like it.” I open her legs and kneel between them before my finger trails against her panties. From top to the side, brushing her clit and going down to her entrance. I can feel her heat and her wetness growing while I draw figure eights on her pussy. Her hips buck up, asking for more, and I pull at my dick for a little release, continuing the torture I’m inflicting on her.
“Please,” she begs and my cock jerks higher. Moving her panties aside, my finger traces her lips, getting coated by her juices. I push her bra down and can’t resist taking her nipple in my mouth, wanting to swallow it whole. When I feel her clench, I push my finger inside of her, her pussy welcoming me by gripping me and making me want to slide my dick in her forever. Needing her kiss, I come up to her mouth and drop my lips to hers. Our chest touching for the first time, our tongues twirling together, and my finger fucking her deep. I add a second one, and crook them to find her spot. She shivers at my touch and I want to devour her. Her hands finish undressing me, freeing my cock from the constraints of my pants and I grunt when her hand falls onto my ass. My dick rests against her pubic bone and she gets more excited, coating my fingers even more with her desire.
“Taste me,” she pleads. Abandoning her pussy, I bring my fingers to her mouth, mixing them with our tongues and grunt at the sweetness of her. My dick lowers down, as if magnetized by her entrance and the tip is ready to push in when I remember the condom. She nods against my mouth as if to give me permission to get inside of her, and I pray to the gods she’s under any kind of contraception because I can’t stop anymore. I rip off her panties and thrust inside her, my tongue and fingers still fucking her mouth while my dick finds a new home.
We’re both lost in each other, all grunts and moans, chasing our orgasm by going faster and faster until we’re about to fall. Feeling her clench around me, I pull out and replace my dick with three fingers so she can orgasm around something and finish jerking off at the sight of her coming, exploding on her chest and seeing my cum drip to her navel.
A perfect moment until she opens her eyes, looks at me and seems far. Very far from us.
Shit. I knew I shouldn’t have fucked her.
I shake my head and back away quickly, letting my mask fall again, and stand up from the bed to give her something to clean up.
Her silence telling me more than the thousands of words she could use to explain.
I leave her there, towel in hand, and walk away to the bathroom to take a shower, so she can take the time she needs to come to peace with what we’ve done.
Chapter Thirteen
TESSA
Embarrassed. Degraded. Disgraced. There is a lot a woman can feel when a man humiliates her.
The first time I felt this way, I was twelve and had just kissed a boy.
A stupid boy who thought he was the shit.
He kissed me and told everyone I was a lousy kisser.
That’s the first time I thought I would die of mortification because of a man.
As Kelly Clarkson sings so annoyingly, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I got stronger.
And I learned.
Every time a man used me, every time a man diminished me, what we had, or our story, I grew stronger.
Every time I felt like less than what I was, I got up again and fought.
Getting stronger is in my DNA.
But the stronger you get, the thicker your skin is, the harder the fall.
Today is the day I fall.
I realize so the moment Oliver leaves me on his bed, still a little wet and a lot confused.
Weakened on my legs, my shoulders curling toward my chest, swallowing the gripping shame in my throbbing throat and the embarrassment on my sluggish heart, I run away from Oliver’s room.
Thankfully as I tend to lose my keys, I always have a second pair in my purse.
I open my door with shaking hands and jump in my car, hoping I’ll find peace in my baby.
I don’t.
Mechanically, I drive away with my tires screeching my pain, my thoughts shattered by what happened, and my foot glued to the acceleration pedal.
I flee fast, my chin trembling, and my body shivering at the idea of stopping the carousel of life indefinitely.
I want the pain of losing King to disappear, the guilt of kissing another man and liking it to evaporate, the mortification of Oliver’s silence to fade.
So, I drive fast.
Too fast.
I need to push myself to the limits of my existence.
I need to know if Death is a real solution for what I’m feeling.
I see the danger of its lure.
Scythe and I had many discussions before, and my mind always won.
I never jumped the gun.
I never was as tempted as now.
But the need to feel something else than the void Oliver dug deeper is Death’s toll for never claiming me when I was a daredevil.
My mind and body dissociate.
I don’t make much sense to myself.
I hate who I am. Who they all think I am. I need them to see me like something else than a broken woman they take with tweezers. I’m not a game of Operation. I won’t buzz, and they won’t lose if they touch me.
People think dying is for the chickens. It takes more to live and be broken than dead and free. Those people have never jumped into the unknown.
That’s what dying is.
A jump to somewhere you have no idea about.
Thankfully, the highway is empty and I can push my car faster than I ever have once I’ve passed the city limits. Nothing but the
