by A. S. Kelly
One, two, ten times.
I have to. I have to have her like this or I won’t be able to watch her leave me. I have to give her what she needs then let her do it.
Hate me.
Not come back for me.
Let her kill me, finish me up and toss me aside.
I have to take it all without giving her anything back.
The time has come for her to know that I can only be an arsehole, a man she doesn’t deserve: the wrong man.
And I’m here to make her understand that.
Riley grips the sheets tightly in her hands as I push inside her, angry and selfish.
I ignore her moaning, I don’t listen to her breathing, I don’t listen to my own body, begging me for pleasure.
I am not making love to her.
I’m just fucking her.
That’s what I repeat to myself in my head as I continue to fill her up, up, up with me, and when I feel her tightening around my cock, I speed up until I hear her scream in liberation.
I let her hips go and I fall onto her and with one decisive thrust I submerge her in all of my anger.
I lie on top of her, crushing her under my weight, and pant into her neck. I should get up now and let her breathe, ask her if everything is okay, but the truth is I’m not able to move or look her in the eyes, because I’d find all the hate she feels for me right there. The hate that I feel towards myself too.
I fucked her like it was a punishment. I fucked her hard, trying to destroy every last bit of the emptiness that is consuming her. I fucked her to show her that I’m not the one she wants.
Instead the only thing I wanted was to touch her, feel her and to love her so that she felt it.
I wanted her to be mine.
Riley stirs below me and I understand that we need to face what we’ve just done.
I move aside as she stays there, spread-eagled on her back with her arms hanging by her sides.
We are silent for what seems like hours, with anxiety suffocating me, but Riley doesn’t move a muscle. It seems like she’s not even breathing.
What the hell have I done?
“I shouldn’t have.”
Guilt starts to eat me up inside.
“I asked you to.”
“You wanted me to be a fucking bastard?”
“Isn’t that what you are?”
She sits up and looks around for her clothes on the floor. She puts on her top, then her underwear – which is still wet.
“Aren’t you the one who only knows how to take?”
I get off the bed too.
“It was…wrong. A terrible mistake. You told me so. God, I thought…”
I try to touch her but she moves away from me.
“…I thought it would be different. I thought it meant something to you,” she says, her voice shaking. “I almost believed you,” she shakes her head. “You’ll never change Ian O’Connor.”
She throws her disappointment in my face before making it to the garage door, opening it and disappearing into the night.
I fall back onto the bed with my head in my hands.
I got it all fucking wrong.
She came here for someone to desire her, to make her feel loved.
Me.
She wanted me to love her.
I’ve wasted the only chance I had. I’ve ruined everything before it could really turn into something.
I’ve done it again.
I’ve made the only woman I’m able to love run away.
33
Riley
I don’t even know how I made it home. My entire body was on alert the entire time, still shocked by what I’d just gone through.
I had sex with Ian and I have no idea what I was thinking, showing up at his door and begging him to make me his.
What was I expecting? That things would be different? That he would actually care about me? That the emotion I felt running through me was real and that he felt it too? That he would be honest with me, that he had really changed?
That he felt something for me and wasn’t just trying to get laid?
All bullshit. What a sham.
My entire life is a sham.
I close the door behind me and fall to the floor, resting my back against it. I hug myself and start shaking. I’m still wearing my wet clothes from the storm, but I can pick out quite distinctly his smell on me and it’s enough to make me want to wretch.
I crawl to my bathroom, slithering towards the toilet. I start coughing, but nothing comes out.
I lift myself with great difficulty and get undressed before getting into the shower to wash away my shame, the pain and the solitude which now feels stronger than ever before.
I sit in the shower as the water washes over me, and I curl myself into a ball until the hot water scorches my skin. I pull myself out and wrap myself in a towel. Dripping wet, I walk to the kitchen in my bare feet, open the fridge and grab a bottle of wine.
The emptiness has returned.
I can’t stand it.
I crawl under the covers, making the sheets wet, and start to drink. Maybe now I’ll finally just pass out.
I hear a dull thudding noise that shakes me from my stupor. I don’t understand where it’s coming from, maybe I’m dreaming or maybe it’s just the hammering in my head.
I try to open an eye but the only thing I see is a bottle next to me that spins on the ground when I try to move, clinking noisily against two other empty bottles.
How much did I drink? I don’t remember getting out of bed to get more.
I turn in my sordid sheets with great difficulty, shivering when I come into contact with the cold and I fall back into a restless and painful sleep.
Another noise, louder than the first one, almost makes my head explode, then someone is shaking me and lifting me, wrapping me in a reassuring warmth.
I feel water running over me again, someone caressing my hair, my face and speaking to me but I can’t make out any of it.
The water stops running and I feel myself wrapped up in something warm. Again, I am held tightly, someone is holding me in his arms, speaking to me sweetly.
I want to open my eyes, say something, but it’s too much for my senses and it’s too overwhelming. I let myself go completely, feeling so safe that I can escape for just a few minutes. Enough time to turn all of this off and imagine my life as something other than a disaster.
34
Ian
I knock on the door with no response. The lights are out but I can’t imagine she’s sleeping, not after what just happened.
I continue knocking, calling her. Surely she can hear me, I’m waking up the dead here. In fact, some other lights have gone on – one of the neighbours could be calling the police.
How the fuck could I have let her leave my apartment? I should have held her, spoken to her, tried to explain.
I can’t be locked out here imagining the worst. I can’t let something happen.
Filled with guilt and anxiety, I decide to break the door down. It gives way easily with a few shoulders to the wood.
I go into the apartment and the smell of the closed space forces me to cover my nose and my mouth with my arms.
I move in the darkness towards her room and I find her on the bed, soaking wet, wrapped up to her waist in a towel.
I run to her, I shake her, I call her, I pick her up and take her to the bathroom. I turn on the shower with one hand, holding her up in the other, then I let the water run and I get in with her, completely dressed. The water helps her come to her senses slightly, but she’s still semi-conscious.
I try to stand her on her feet, but she can’t. So, I wrap an arm around her waist and use the other one to caress her face, her hair, her shoulders. I try to talk to her, make her understand that I’m here and that she shouldn’t worry about anything. That it’ll all be okay and I won’t let anything happen.
When her body gets some of its heat back, I turn off the water, I lift her again and take her out of
the shower. I find a towel hung on a hook and cover her the best I can, bringing her through to the bedroom.
The bed is too wet, so I go to the living room. I set her down, delicately covering her with a throw and take off my sopping wet clothes.
Then, I sit next to her, I hold her and cradle her like a baby. I cover her with my body, I speak to her, I calm her and give all of my warmth to her, hoping to let her know that I am here, for fuck’s sake – I always have been, and if I hadn’t been a coward, I could’ve taken this leap of faith.
For her, I would have. I would have fought my fear of being abandoned with my bare hands, torn down all of my insecurities, all the negative thoughts, and I would have made the leap.
Into the emptiness. Holding her hand.
I kiss her forehead and close my eyes, cursing myself for being a bastard, for taking advantage of a woman who just needed a safe haven, to be protected and loved.
And I’m here for exactly that, to do what I should have done from the beginning, instead of hiding, lying, refusing her and letting her think that I could never love her.
35
Riley
When I open my eyes, the shooting pain piercing my skull makes me wish I was dead. I try to move, but the grip I feel around my body and my physical weakness prevent me from getting up.
I turn my head and realise that Ian is here, on my sofa next to me, and that I’m in his arms.
I close my eyes and try to remember what happened, but the last thing that comes to mind is his body on top of mine and his invasive, painful thrusts. The feeling of emptiness that I felt when he pulled out from me.
I shiver and try to escape the absurd imagine of me and him - the throw falls suddenly to the floor, making me realise that I’m completely naked.
Ian’s eyes snap open. I try to pick up the throw again, to cover myself, but when I tug at it, I discover that he’s in the same condition as me.
I curl myself into a ball in a corner of the sofa, hugging my chest while Ian wakes up and rubs his face with his hand.
He sits up with his back to me, allowing me to enjoy a look at his perfect, well-defined back. Then he gets to his feet, revealing his tight glutes and muscular legs without a hint of embarrassment.
My eyes go to the tattoos that cover his arms, his shoulders and the muscles that run down his abdomen.
I swallow hard and force myself to stop looking at him.
Ian moves around the apartment without saying a word. I feel my heart hammering loudly in my chest and my headache grows stronger than ever.
I cover my face with my hands trying to come up with something to say, but he comes back, and stops in front of me.
I let my hands drop and look up at him timidly. Ian is wrapped in a towel and extends his hand to me with two tablets in it. I accept them and put them in my mouth before he passes me a bottle of water. I swallow them as he sits down next to me.
“You scared me.”
“That wasn’t my intention, I didn’t think you’d come here after…” I didn’t finish the phrase, I close my eyes and swallow down my dignity.
“I shouldn’t have let you just leave like that, not after what happened between us.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
He stands up, hurt by what I’ve just said. He paces the living room and then takes his head in his hands, messing up his hair.
“I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.”
“You…what?”
He turns to face me again.
“I was wrong. You were vulnerable and scared and I—”
“You fucked me. End of story.”
“That’s not what I wanted to do.”
“Now you’re trying to tell me that you made a big sacrifice for me? That an easy lay isn’t every man on the planet’s fantasy?”
“What? Me, no…” he huffs and comes closer to me. He kneels down next to me and speaks calmly. “Do you think it was easy for me? I’m drowning in my own guilt.”
Confused by his words and unnerved by my own thoughts, I get up from the sofa, but my head spins so much that I almost go down. I land in his arms that grab me and hold me to his warm body. The throw falls away from us, leaving me naked against him.
“Riley,” he whispers into my neck. “I’m sorry, I swear to you it’s not what I wanted.”
His words hurt me and make me feel even more refused that before.
“You regret it.” I say leaning away from him. “Just like the last time. What’s the matter? I’m not enough for you, Ian O’Connor?” I spit my remorse in his face.
He grabs me by the wrist and forces me to face him.
“That night…Christ, Riley, do you have the slightest idea what I was feeling? How much it cost me to leave you there alone on my bed?”
I rest my open hands on his chest as his slide gently down my back. Then he speaks directly into my lips.
“I don’t want to be a distraction from your loneliness. I don’t want to be the last drop of emptiness that fills you. I don’t want to be something you look for to hide away from the rest of the world.”
I look up at him and the warmth I see in his eyes makes my knees weak.
“I just want you to be mine.”
36
Ian
The feeling of her body against mine is enough to make me lose my lucidity, freeing my thoughts and my words.
I slept next to her, held her to me, skin on skin and breathed her in with the only hope that when she woke up, we could start from zero. That we could touch each other, taste each other slowly, one step at a time.
When she looked at me that way, when I could read the resentment in her eyes as clear as day, I felt myself sinking again. I can’t lose her again, not before having truly had her.
“I want you to be mine,” I tell her with fire in my veins and my heart racing a million miles an hour.
Riley leans back, afraid, and I let her. I let my words suffocate her because I know that’s probably what it’s doing.
A year ago, I told her I didn’t want to burden myself with the weight she carries and now I’m ready to bear it for her so she can save herself.
And now I’m ready for all of it.
Riley’s confused. She doesn’t know where to go and she hasn’t faced what’s happened to her yet. She’s not in full control of her life. I’m the one who’s told her what I’m really feeling, what I’ve felt about her since that damn night I wouldn’t dance with her. I shouldn’t feel like this: it’ll only hurt me in the end.
“I can’t reason when you’re in the middle of things. I lose my mind, I lose…Everything, Riley. I always lose when it comes to you. The idea is devouring me…You’re destroying me. Even if I know I can’t stand it, I can’t do without it. And it’s all your fault.”
“My fault?” she stutters, confused.
I lean in threateningly close to her without realizing, and she falls backwards onto the sofa.
“You show up at my house. You ask me to…” I close my eyes and inhale deeply but when I open them the view of her naked shoulders and chest before me make me lose control.
I close the gap between us and take her face in my hands, covering her mouth with mine. She tries to push me away but I’m stronger and more determined.
Her resistance lasts a few seconds, just enough time for me to slip my tongue in her mouth and take her breath away.
Riley doesn’t know what to hold on to, what to do and is completely overwhelmed by me, by my fingers that are running over her, by my mouth that holds her hostage, by my strength and desperation.
This power over her sends the blood rushing to my head.
I pull away from her just enough time to grab her from behind, lift her up and sit her on me.
“Ian…” she pants.
I snake my hands behind her head, grab her hair and pull her to me.
Her breasts crush against my chest, her hands anchored to my shoulders, her lips that brush against mine. I bite her
and she moans in my mouth and I try to pull away my towel with the other hand – now the only thing separating us. I grab her hips, throw the towel to the floor and forcefully sit her on top of my pulsing cock.
Riley goes rigid, I feel her tensed muscles in her legs shaking.
I realise I have zero control when she’s in my arms.
So, I stop myself a minute to breathe, to quiet my instincts. I rest my forehead against hers, breathing heavily and keeping a firm grip on her hips. A part of me is afraid that if I let go, she might try to escape, and I couldn’t bear that.
“If this isn’t what you want you have to tell me right now,” I say with a heavy heart, feeling every part of my body shaking with the fear of rejection.
“I…I want…”
“What? What do you want?”
She tries to kiss me but I turn my head.
“Riley, you have to say it or I can’t go on.”
“I want…you to fuck me, Ian. Please, just fuck me and stop talking.”
She whispered what she said but I feel like she just screamed it in my ear. And it makes a terrible noise.
She’s just looking for a lay. Someone to sleep with her and take away all her pain. But I want to love her and give her everything.
Disappointment devours me, piece by piece, and I let it, as I grab her by the waist and push her away from me. I put a hand between our bodies and gently touch her clit with my fingers.
Riley squeezes her legs together, but I don’t stop.
I slide a finger inside her and as I start to move it, she slowly relaxes. I add another finger and Riley moans right in my ear, falling against my shoulder and squeezing my arm tightly.
I move my fingers in deeper and rest my thumb on her clit. Her breath on my ear, her warmth all around me, and the desire to feel her again explode in my body without control.
With the other hand, I accompany her movements, pulling her towards me and holding her hip so my fingers slide in and out of her as she moves against my hand. When her breathing gets heavier, I realise she’s about to come at any moment, and my dick is about to explode, quite literally.