by A. S. Kelly
“Not like this Riley,” I tell her pulling out my fingers. “You have to feel it. How much I want it.”
I grab her hips and forcefully sit her on top of me.
Her yell blocks the air in my throat, choked by the fear of once again having acted too impulsively. But then she bites my shoulder and the pain I felt recedes into me mixing with my anger.
I squeeze her tighter and move with her hips so that she takes it, deep and painful, and lets herself be filled with my dick and nothing else.
Not me.
Because I’m not the one she wants, I’m just someone to fill her for twenty minutes and then leave her even emptier than before.
I’m only doing what she wants, I tell myself, as I try not to think about the pleasure running through my own body mixed with the painful awareness that this is the only warmth I’ll ever feel.
The only thing she’s willing to give me.
37
Riley
When I feel him filling me so deeply, an uncontrollable yell escapes my mouth. The painful pleasure erases every inhibition and I melt into his warm hands that grip my hips tightly, pulling me onto him.
Ian takes me completely.
He does what he wants with my body, moulding it as he needs, and synchronising my movements to go against his thrusts.
He is fucking me, like I asked him to, even if I wasn’t really sure this is what I wanted.
I wanted his hands, his mouth, his body and that warmth… Him. I wanted to feel him.
With a strong, painful thrust, my body folds completely over his; my energy is gone, my head is hammering and my stomach is grumbling.
And yet, I allow him to have me this way, full of anger and selfishness. Ian projects his frustration and desire into me.
And I let him.
I take it all.
I would take anything from him.
His face slides between my breasts and I feel his beard scratching, burning my skin. His lips capture a nipple and suck at it before biting down furiously.
I scream, but Ian doesn’t stop.
He carries on biting me, sucking me and tormenting me, making me lose any sense of embarrassment I may have felt.
The only thing I feel is Ian O’Connor inside me.
It’s the only thing I want to feel.
He leaves my hips for a moment and grabs them with his hands, pulling me towards him, and begins sucking on them, one then the other, provoking a violent shaking within me and scaring me at the same time.
“God, Riley…it’s killing me. All of this is killing me. Having you this way…” he pants against my chest making me feel, for the first time, that I am the woman he really wants.
I grab his hair with both my hands and pull him to my mouth. I want to feel his lips, his tongue, his flavour.
I want it all.
Because the same thing is killing me too.
I clash with his mouth, sliding my tongue in and he moans, sending vibrations rippling through me.
“I want you to forget about everything else,” he says through his teeth as I wrap my legs around him, trapping him in my grip. “I want you to understand exactly what’s happening here. I want you to see what I’m doing to you.” He squeezes a nipple tightly, forcing me to look at him. “I want you to know that your body is in my hands. That it’s all in my hands.” He takes one in his teeth and bites it, burning me with his eyes and enjoying my agony. “I want you to think about the fact that I’m inside you, that I’m fucking you.”
He slides his hands along my back until he gets to my buttocks and squeezes tightly. I move over him and take it all, feeling my excitement balloon as our sweaty bodies bump up against one another.
“I want you to understand what it means to want something so badly you wish it could kill you, because that’s what you’re doing to me,” he growls angrily, before marking me again with his teeth.
Neck, shoulder, breast. Ian bites me everywhere, furious and breathless, and each time he does, it takes my breath away – his tongue soothes the wound he’s just inflicted on me.
And then he grabs my hips and pushes down hard, before biting my earlobe and ordering me: “Now come for me, Riley. Just for me.”
I grab onto his shoulders and do as he tells me.
And I do it loudly and desperately as if, through my liberating screams, a part of me is killed, dispersed with the air.
Ian follows me, filling me with his hardness and his rage before stopping and letting his head fall onto my shoulder, breathless.
We stay like that for a few minutes before I try with to get off of him. My legs are quivering and my body is still rocked by tremors.
Ian doesn’t let me move; he gets up, keeping me tightly in his arms, and starts towards the bathroom.
“What…?” I say in confusion.
He opens the shower door and turns on the water, then in a tone of voice that is so sweet and tender it smashes me to a million pieces he says: “Now I’m going to take care of you.”
38
Ian
I let her slide slowly off of my body, resting her feet in the shower. Riley seems scared. Maybe I really did take it too far. Maybe I should have gone a bit slower, enjoyed every moment, let her know that what I wanted wasn’t her body.
I don’t say anything. I just caress the wet hair that falls over her shoulders and I take care of her, because she needs to be looked after. We both do.
I didn’t want all this, for things to freefall out of control. It was rage, a strong desire to feel her, to have her for myself and to give myself completely to her, because I know she’s the only woman I could do it for. She’s the only woman I could live for.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to put things right, turn it around and get her to trust me, to open her heart to me and let me in.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get a second chance, or if she’ll ever be able to see me for what I am, to see just Ian and not someone to vent her anger towards and who can fill her emptiness. To realise that behind this façade, there’s an entire world to discover.
To believe in me and what we could have. I take the shampoo bottle and pour a little into my hands. I delicately massage her head as she closes her eyes and lets herself go to my touch. I soap up her body, reddened by my own bite marks, my beard scratching and the bastard that I have been once again.
I try not to think about it and to make things better as much as possible, to show her that she can have whatever she wants from me if she just asks for it.
Because I could be hers.
Completely.
If she wants me.
I rub her body with soapy hands, slowly and respectfully, and she lets me without making a sound. She’s still under the spell of my hands washing over her - this time, to take care of her.
Then I rinse myself off too as she looks at me, confused, wrapping her arms around her chest.
It’s such an intense and intimate moment – us, here like this – it’s hard for me to wrap my head around.
I don’t think I’ve ever experienced this kind of intimacy with anyone. It’s a sensation that really undoes me; I didn’t think it was possible for me to feel this way, for me to surrender to a feeling that grows devastatingly larger with every passing second, occupying my every thought and invading my every heartbeat.
I never would have believed that I could let down my guard, let myself be dragged in by someone. I never knew that my heart could swell in my chest so dominatingly, so out of control.
But it’s happened and I don’t know how go back, or make it stop.
39
Riley
I sit in the armchair in my bedroom, wrapped in a towel as Ian takes off the old sheets and replaces them with clean ones. I watch him moving around without embarrassment, wearing just a towel around his waist, his wet hair plastered to his forehead and a serious yet tender expression on his face that could crack my heart in two.
I bite my lip at the sight of his muscles flexin
g as he makes my bed. I can’t take my eyes off of him or ask him what he’s still doing here because I have this huge weight on my chest, crushing me.
He turns to look at me and embarrassment flushes through me.
“All done,” he says coming towards me, and all of sudden, I close up, drawing my legs into my chest.
He kneels down on the carpet next to me and lifts my chin up with two fingers. “Riley,” he whispers, and the sound of my name on his lips is the sweetest, most tender sound I’ve ever heard. I close my eyes, praying I don’t cry.
Ian sighs, before slipping an arm under my legs and the other one behind my shoulders and lifting me up. As I near his body I stiffen in his arms; then he rests me down on the bed and covers me with the duvet. He looks at me for a few seconds before turning to leave so I jump up and grab his hand.
Ian freezes in place, his back to me.
“S-stay,” I beg him in a shaky voice.
He turns slowly and his eyes nail me to the wall. They’re so clear that I can almost see myself in them, for the first time, as I really am.
He lets go of my hand and walks around the bed. I hear the blanket moving and the mattress sink under his weight, then I feel nothing but a warmth I’ve waited for and wanted for so long, the kind of heat that could warm up everything it touches.
His arm wraps around my waist and he pulls me in to him. My back is pressed against his chest and I find myself holding my breath for a few seconds as I feel his erection rubbing against my buttocks.
Then his lips are on my shoulder and I shudder at the tenderness of his touch; it frightens me, because I’m starting to hope, to dream, to believe.
In him.
“I’m not going anywhere unless you ask me to,” he whispers into my ear.
“You already have before. You’ll do it again.”
He pulls me in tighter to him as if by doing so, he could erase the words that I just said.
“I couldn’t now. I’m in too deep.”
His words are sweet and whispered over my still sensitive skin and my heart, which has been reduced to a pile of small fragments.
I find myself wanting something for myself. A man, this man; wanting his hands on my body, to feel him inside me and breathe the same air as him. Someone I can share my thoughts, my space and my fears with.
I’ve never felt this safe, wanted and protected in my life. I’ve never been so desperate to have the scent of a man on me.
I stroke his arm with my hand and feel him sigh heavily against my neck. He holds me tighter and then slowly rises up towards my chest and hugs me so tightly and possessively and I’m afraid of welling up again.
“Riley,” he whispers again, giving me chills. “I can’t stand it. I knew that if I touched you once, like this, I wouldn’t be able to control myself,” he continues and I feel the proof of it in his growing erection right between my legs. “I want you again,” his tone is desperate and has an immediate effect on me.
I instinctively pull back my hips: an unspoken invitation to let him slide into me and take me again.
He squeezes my nipple hard between his fingers and starts playing with it, while the other hand slides between my thighs. I arch my back impatiently, hoping that he’ll put an end to this madness and get inside me as quickly as possible. He slides two fingers into me and a moan escapes my lips while I close my eyes and let myself go to his touch.
He uses his knee to open my legs wide enough to feel his erection push against my clit.
“Say it – or I swear to God, I’m not going to do it, Riley.”
“Ian…”
“Tell me.”
“Please, I need it.”
“What do you need? My—”
“You.” And I can hardly believe the words coming out of my mouth. “I need you.”
“Fuck,” he says through gritted teeth as he slips into me.
I’m ready to feel him crush me, pure animal instinct, his thrusts bending me under his force, but it doesn’t happen.
This time, it’s different. It’s all different.
He’s different.
All of this sweetness, this thoughtfulness, this unexpected hope that he really can take care of me, rains down on me and makes me melt in his arms, giving me everything I need.
40
Ian
I didn’t want to take her again, but then when she said those words that I no longer held much hope of ever hearing – that I need you – my heart took over.
I sink into her, wrapping myself in her warmth that slowly envelopes me, together with her breathing. It’s enough to bring tears to my eyes, this intimacy between us. This meeting, not only of two bodies but two souls, two wounded souls that are trying to sew themselves back together.
I caress her, enjoying her body, inhaling her clean hair and holding her desperately to me.
Because that’s how I feel.
I need her desperately and I need to be everything that she can breathe.
I feel her pussy contracting against my cock, wanting, needing. I kiss her skin, tasting it and committing it to memory, this, our first real time being together. This time she’s not just giving me her body: she’s giving herself to me and I could never have asked for anything more.
“Make love to me, Riley,” I whisper in her ear. “It’s all I ask for.”
She turns her head and I catch her lip in my teeth. I bite it slowly, I suck it and then slip my tongue into her mouth, drinking in her moans and quenching my thirst with her passion, crashing from her body into mine.
When I break away from her, she looks at me intensely with wet eyes. “You really want me?” she asks incredulously and I could cry at the fact that she doesn’t believe she’s what I really want.
“Oh, Jesus, Riley,” I thrust deeply into her, forcing a sensual sound to escape her lips. “Can’t you feel it?”
She nods.
“This is how much I want you,” I bite her neck and push again. “You’re beautiful, Riley,” I murmur. “You turn me on,” I continue, biting her earlobe and panting into it. “And this body,” I hold her breast in my hand. “I can’t help but want it. I want it to be mine. I’ve always wanted it, Riley. I’ve never stopped thinking about it. Not a fucking second since you came into my life.”
She exhales and I feel her start to shake in my arms. “This is the only body I’ve ever wanted.”
Her breathing becomes heavier.
“You’re the one I’ve always wanted,” I confess to her for the first time in three years, setting aside my fear of another abandonment.
“Now let yourself go. To me.”
I caress her between the legs as she moves against me and I help her get to that pleasure spot she’s trying to reach – if only because I can’t control myself.
When I hear her panting rapidly, I push deeper so we can enjoy the moment together.
Riley doesn’t yell this time, she expresses herself in weighted sighs, making me explode into her again.
We come together and breathe together as if we were one – and I almost wish it were true.
We stay there, anchored one to another, desperately entwined because we both know that once the moment has passed, we’re going to have to face the music.
I kiss her shoulder, her neck, her back. I caress her breasts tenderly because what we have between us is more than sex and instinct.
What we have shared together is love.
Riley is still in my arms as I try to communicate wordlessly with her.
We fall asleep like this, next to each other, tightly embracing and I feel life itself returning to our veins.
When I wake up, the heat coming from her body makes me sigh with emotion. I hold her to me and kiss her shoulder, sliding my hand to her stomach.
I feel her scar under my fingers. I start from down low and move up to her belly. My thumb traces her, quivering with rage and pain.
I swallow hard and close my eyes, trying to send away the thoughts that have been oppres
sing me for weeks now, wreaking havoc on my heart.
Riley gets up slowly. She moves in my arms and when she realises what I’m doing she pulls away from me, turning onto her back and covering herself with the duvet up to her chin.
“Riley,” I say, the emotion in my voice nearly betraying me. She shakes her head and gets up, wrapping herself in the sheet. She seems small, defenceless. My gut instinct is to run to her and hug her, make her understand that I’m here, I’m here for her, that she can tell me anything and I’m ready to take it all on.
I get up and go over to her but she hurries away to go sit in the armchair. She hugs her legs to her chest, curling up into a ball.
She’s closing me out.
I kneel down before her. “Trust me,” I tell her gently, trying to catch her gaze.
“I can’t.”
“You can. It’s going to be alright, I promise you.”
“I’m afraid.”
“Afraid? Of what?”
She shakes her head and looks elsewhere.
“I’m afraid of you,” she says in a whisper. “Afraid of wanting you so badly that I feel it coursing through my veins. The need I have to inhale you, to hear your breathing. Afraid to come out in the open and show myself for what I really am. Afraid that it’s all too much, that you won’t be able to accept it and that I really am that problem you’d rather not deal with.”
Then she turns her head slightly and looks at me.
“Afraid that you’ll break my heart again, Ian O’Connor – and that this time I won’t be able to repair it.”
I close my eyes and swallow the rest of my hope that I could take care of her, and love her as she deserves to be loved.