When I Was Yours

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When I Was Yours Page 22

by Samantha Towle


  The silky material floats to the floor, landing on my bare feet, and I kick it away.

  We both go for the button on his jeans at the same time. He lets me undo it.

  I yank the zipper down, loving the sound it makes. It gives me chills, knowing that I’m that much closer to having him inside me. His eyes watch me the whole time.

  When I have his jeans open, Adam shoves them down over his hips. That’s when I see he’s commando underneath them.

  Holy fuck.

  There’s just something about knowing he was naked underneath there the whole time that drives me wild, turning me on beyond reason.

  I stare down at the beautiful sight of his thick cock straining upward, wanting me. My mouth waters.

  That’s what I do to him.

  It gives me a feeling of immense power, something that I rarely feel around Adam.

  I want to drop to my knees, take him in my mouth, and taste him, but I don’t get a chance.

  His hands go to my ass, and he lifts me, shoving me back against the wall.

  Then, his mouth is on mine again, devouring me, as his cock thrusts up inside me.

  I scream his name into his mouth.

  But there’s no respite, no time to adjust to his size. He just starts fucking me, hard and thorough, and it’s so damn fucking good. He’s relentless, like a machine, and I love it.

  I love him.

  “Mine.” He slams home, his eyes pinned on mine. “Right now, you belong to me,” he growls.

  “Yes,” I cry out.

  My fingers slide into his hair, gripping it. I pull his mouth back to mine, and I kiss him hard and deep. I give all I can, and he takes it.

  Then, suddenly, he pulls away from the wall, taking me with him, causing me to squeal out in surprise. I lock my ankles together around his back, my arms tight around his neck. We’re moving through the living room, him carrying me, still inside me.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, clinging to him like a spider monkey.

  I’ve always loved how strong Adam is. He carries me like there’s no effort at all, like I weigh nothing. And I definitely weigh something. The tubs of Chunky Monkey I eat regularly have made sure of that. But he makes me feel sexy and feminine in only that way he can.

  “Bed. I need to fuck you on a flat surface.”

  I don’t bother pointing out that he’s just passed a few flat surfaces on his route through the living room because I want to be in his bed.

  He moves quickly up the stairs. Reaching his bedroom he walks in, and lays me down on the bed.

  He comes down with me, but he pulls back, slipping out of me.

  I hate the empty feeling left inside me.

  But I’m quickly distracted when he starts kissing a path down my body, starting at my collarbone. He kisses my breast, licking and sucking. His teeth tug on my nipple, driving me wild.

  He continues his descent, and then he slides off the bed. On his feet, he leans over me. Grabbing hold of my thighs, he yanks me down the bed until my ass is right on the edge. He drops to his knees before me.

  There’s just something about seeing Adam kneeling down there, staring up at me, that does crazy things to my insides.

  He pushes my thighs apart with his hands. Then, he runs a finger down my center, making my toes curl.

  “Always so wet for me.” His voice is almost a groan.

  He places his finger in his mouth, sucking me from it, and he closes his eyes.

  My body shudders with need.

  I’ve always loved how he does that, like he gets off on the taste of me.

  When he opens his eyes, I see they’re dark with need.

  He spreads me open with his fingers and puts his mouth on me.

  A sound of pure unadulterated ecstasy leaves me. My head presses back into the bed as my hands grab for his hair. It’s hard to get a good grip on his short hair. I really miss his long hair.

  He licks me with gusto. Skilled in the knowledge of how I like it, he brings me to the edge with perfection. In next to no time, my muscles are locking up tight, and I’m screaming out his name.

  I can feel him pressing tender, soft kisses to my pussy. His tongue is still tasting me as his fingers knead my thighs.

  I push up onto my elbows, looking down at him.

  He lifts his head, staring up at me. His mouth is glistening with me. He rubs his thumb over his lips and then puts it in his mouth.

  I shiver all over.

  Adam gets to his feet. But before he can do anything else, I slide off the bed, dropping to my knees in front of him. I take his cock into my mouth.

  “Jesus, Evie.” He shudders. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

  His praise tugs low in my belly.

  I haven’t had a chance to do this to him since we started sleeping together again. Adam is always so in control, so dominant in the bedroom. He was sexually dominant when we were younger, but he’s definitely stepped up his game since then. I’m just trying not to think about how he’s achieved that.

  I can taste myself on him, and the reminder that he was just inside me and that he’ll soon be back there brings me back, turning me on even more. My pussy throbs between my legs, which is surprising, considering he just gave me an epic orgasm less than a minute ago.

  Wanting to please him, I take more of him into my mouth, but I can’t take him all. My gag reflex has never been amazing, and Adam’s cock is big. I circle the base with my hand, gripping firmly. Then, I suck him hard and jack him off in tandem, just how I know he likes it.

  Or used to like.

  “Fuck yeah. That’s it, Evie. You suck me so fucking good.”

  Still likes. Yay me!

  His hips shift forward as he grabs my head, his fingers tangling in my hair, and he starts fucking my mouth. But he’s careful never to push back too far. He always was.

  It makes me love him all the more.

  He fucks my mouth while my hand jacks him off. Then, all too soon, he’s pulling away, his cock slipping from my mouth.

  “I need to fuck you. Now.” Hands under my arms, he picks me up and tosses me onto the bed.

  I hit the mattress with a gentle oomph.

  Adam is on me in seconds.

  Hands pinning mine above my head, he thrusts inside me.

  “God, Adam!” I close my eyes against the sensation, my fingers squeezing around his hands, my nails biting his skin.

  I expect him to start fucking me like a madman, but he stays still inside me.

  I open my eyes, and he’s just staring down at me.

  Releasing my hands, he rests his forearm on the bed by my head, his fingers brushing the hair from my face before stroking my cheek. His gaze is almost tender, a look I haven’t seen on him in a very long time.

  He runs his other hand down my side and along my thigh. Then, he curls his hand around my leg, lifting it, and he hooks it over his hip.

  Lowering his mouth to mine, he softly kisses me.

  Then, he starts to slowly move inside me. It’s so very different from all the other times we’ve had sex recently.

  This feels like it used to all those years ago, back when he still loved me.

  And I can almost make myself believe that, in this moment, that’s what’s happening—that he’s making love to me.

  So, that’s what I do.

  I close my eyes as I wrap my arms around him, and I let myself believe.

  Our lips are still pressed together, not kissing, just breathing into each other.

  He makes love to me, until I start to feel that familiar pull in my lower belly, my clit tingling from each firm stroke from the base of his cock.

  “Adam…” I whisper his name.

  “Come for me, Evie.”

  My body shatters around his, and I know he’s done. The feel of me tightening around him always sets him off.

  He lets out a long moan, my name mixed in with it, his body shuddering. He comes inside me, coating my insides with his release.

 
We stay here, him inside me, as we kiss soft, gentle kisses, making out like we used to when we were kids. It’s been a long time since we’ve done this.

  I try not to think what it could mean for us.

  But I am hoping against hope that something has changed here. I know I’m a fool to think this, but I can’t help myself.

  I wish for more, not what we had because I know I can never get that back, but something new with him.

  I’d just be happy to have anything of Adam, anything he’s willing to give me.

  I run my fingers down his side, causing him to laugh against my mouth. I love the sound. He always was ticklish there.

  “I should clean up. I just don’t want to move.”

  “So, don’t.” I stroke my fingers down his back.

  He lifts his head and stares into my eyes.

  I see something change in them, something that leaves me feeling cold. It’s almost like he’s switching off on me.

  Desperate to keep him with me, I press my lips to his, kissing him. He kisses me back, but it doesn’t feel the same.

  I’ve lost him.

  Shutting my eyes, I draw back from him.

  He pulls out of me and sits on the edge of the bed. His back is rigid.

  “Talk to me,” I say softly.

  He glances back at me, his expression closed off. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “What about what I saw…the things in your old room?”

  His face darkens, his brows pulling together. “I told you downstairs that I didn’t want to talk about it. That hasn’t changed.” He gets up from the bed and walks over to the chest of drawers. He pulls open a drawer and gets out a pair of running shorts.

  “Why won’t you talk about it?” I ask, sitting up, pulling the sheet up and around me.

  “Because what’s the fucking point?” He pulls the shorts on with tense, jerky movements.

  “The point is, we can’t keep avoiding stuff all the time, like those things in there.” I point to the wall. “And about what’s going on here, between us.”

  He slams the drawer shut. Then, he grips the top of the dresser with his hands, his head bowed forward. “Nothing is going on between us.” The words come out gritted.

  And they hurt like a bitch. But I don’t show it.

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it.” I shift onto my knees, facing him. “Just talk to me. Tell me why you kept my things all these years.”

  “Why do you fucking think?” He spins around to face me, his eyes wide with anger. “For the same reason I keep coming back and having sex with you all the damn time. Because I never got over you! I’ve spent the last ten years of my life pining away over you like an idiot while you moved on to a brand-new life, doing God knows what, fucking God knows who!”

  I don’t why, but instead of feeling guilt, his words incense me.

  Maybe it’s because of an article I read a few days ago. It was an old article, but I regretted reading it the moment I did. It talked about the upturn in Gunner Entertainment’s success since Adam took over the helm. I was proud of him while reading it until I got to the part where it said he was as successful in business as he was with women.

  “You’ve hardly been pining.” I sound bitter and jealous. Maybe it’s because I am. “I know there have been other women over the years, Adam. A lot of other women.” The second I say it, I know that it was the wrong thing to say.

  “Don’t you fucking dare.” His voice is low but as deadly as a striking cobra. “You don’t get to comment on how I’ve been living my life while you’ve been gone. You left me, remember? And so what if I fucked other women? I was free to do so. Yeah, I fucked them, hundreds of them, and I loved every minute. And you know what, Evie? Every single one of them was better than you, even the bad fucks.”

  A sob breaks from me. I press my hand to my mouth, as tears start to run down my cheeks.

  “Does that hurt, Evie? Does it feel like your chest is cracking wide open, and you’re bleeding out? Because if it does, then you’re getting a little taste of how I’ve felt every single day for the last ten years!” he roars at me. “Only difference here is, you knew where I was. You could have come back anytime. And you know what? I would have taken you back in a second, like the dumb fuck I am. But me?” He slams a hand against his chest. “I was left with nothing! No fucking clue where you were, what you were doing, or who you were doing it with!”

  “I wasn’t doing anything with anyone!” I yell, fighting back. “There hasn’t been anyone since you! There has only ever been you!”

  He stills, his eyes boring into mine.

  “There’s—” His voice cracks. “There’s been no one…else?”

  I look away. “No.”

  “Why not?” His voice is almost a whisper.

  Gathering my courage, I force my eyes back to him. The look on his face has softened a little, and it gives me the nerve to say the truth. “Because I never got over you. I didn’t want to let you go, so I could never move on.”

  “Jesus, Evie,” he breathes out. He roughly rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands. Then, he pushes his fingers into his hair. “None of this makes sense. Why did you leave me in the first place?”

  That’s the question I can never answer.

  Shaking my head, I stare down at my hands.

  I hear him sigh. He’s frustrated because he knows I won’t answer.

  “I’m sorry…for what I said before,” I speak quietly. “I should never have said what I did about you and other women.” I nearly choke on the words that have been burning me from the inside out since he first spoke them. “You were right when you said I had no right to pass comment on the way you lived your life.”

  And I’m sorry for everything. For hurting you all those years ago. For hurting you now.

  “Evie.” He takes a step toward the bed, bringing him closer to me.

  I lift my eyes to him. He looks tired, weary. But he’s still beautiful, so very beautiful that it hurts sometimes. And one of those times is now.

  “What I said about those…women…I shouldn’t have said it because it’s not true. I was just angry. And…I wanted to hurt you.”

  You did.

  “All those women…” Dragging his hand through his hair, he lets out a solemn-sounding breath. “They were all just temporary replacements for you. It was all I could do to cope with losing you. I might have been sleeping with them, but it was always your face I saw, your…void I was trying to fill.” He looks past me, his eyes on the wall behind me.

  I’m trying to process what he just told me. Emotions hang heavy between us.

  Hearing him say that about those women, that they were replacements for me, doesn’t make it hurt any less. The thought of him with anyone else kills me.

  But I made the choice to leave him, so I only have myself to blame.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I utter softly, my fingers gripping the bedsheet surrounding me.

  He blows out a breath, a solemn laugh escaping him. “Me neither. I just…I don’t know what to do anymore, Evie.”

  He slowly brings his eyes back to mine, and the look in them terrifies me.

  He looks lost and desolate, but most of all, he looks like he’s given up.

  Please don’t give up on me…on us.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” I whisper, my eyes filling with tears again.

  He closes his eyes, letting out a long breath, before opening them again. “You don’t really have me—not in the way that matters, not in the way that you used to.”

  I know he’s not saying it to hurt me or to be cruel. He’s saying it because it’s the truth.

  And fuck does the truth hurt.

  A tear runs down my cheek, onto my lip, and into my mouth. I rub my face with my hand. Adam’s eyes track the movement.

  “I’m not over you, Evie. I don’t think I ever will be. But I can’t be with you because I don’t trust you, and I don’t forgive you for leaving me the way you
did.”

  “I’m so sorry for leaving you. You have to know that by now.”

  “I do know. I believe you when you say it. But how can I be with you, when I’ll just be waiting for the day you walk out the door? I can’t put myself through that again. I just can’t.” He takes a step away from me as his arms wrap around his chest, like he’s shielding himself from me.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Adam. I’m here to stay. Forever.”

  “Nothing’s forever. You taught me that.”

  “That’s not true. And I’m not leaving again. I promise. I won’t leave you ever again.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I swear to you.” I’m pleading. What else can I do?

  “You swore those exact words to me once before, in front of a minister, so to me, Evie, right now, your words mean shit.”

  I feel frustrated and lost. I don’t know how to make him believe me, so I decide to just go for broke and tell him exactly how I feel.

  “I love you,” I say. “I never stopped, not for one second.”

  His eyes close, like he’s in pain. “Don’t…”

  I climb off the bed, taking the sheet with me. I stand before him. “It’s the truth. I love you. I love you so much.”

  “You don’t get to say that to me!” His eyes flick open, lit with anger again, and he steps back from me. “You have no fucking right to do this!” He turns away, his head in his hands, breathing heavy.

  I want to touch him, hold him, but I know without a doubt that he’ll push me away, and I can’t handle any more rejection from him right now. I already feel like I’m falling to pieces.

  Adam pulls in a shuddering deep breath. Lowering his hands from his face, he turns back to me.

  “You’re killing me, Evie.” His voice is agonized. “You’re like a bullet lodged in my chest, and I can’t get you out. And you’re killing me. Slowly. So, I’m begging you…either tell me the truth—tell me why you left, and I’ll see if it’s something I can get past, see if we can move forward together, so I can try to learn to trust you again—or just…just fucking let me go. Please. Because I can’t keep doing this with you.”

  My chest closes up, taking all my air with it.

  I start to panic.

  I feel trapped.

  Because when you’ve held something in for as long as I have, keeping it a secret, it’s hard to let it out, to finally tell the truth.

 

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