His hands latched onto my breasts and he pulled me up, so that my back was pressed firmly against his front. His fingers plucked at my nipples before moving down over my stomach and between my legs. The pad of his finger rubbed sweet circles over my throbbing bud and it was all I could take.
Against my will, I called out. “Sebastian…”
My body shook against his, and I was coming, his hips continuing to work me. My body went limp and I fell forward. He held my hips in the air and continued on his mission for an orgasm.
Thrusting only a few more times, he pulled out, and came all over my ass. It was hot and dripping down my cheek. He spread the come around my ass with his tip, while milking his cock dry.
Letting his body fall next to mine with a huff, I quickly turned on my side, giving him my back. I couldn’t process my feelings and didn’t want to look at him for the moment.
My heart ached for what would obviously never be. And yet my body was in euphoria, coming down from a high like no other.
He’d been rough and aggressive, and if I was being honest with myself… I enjoyed it.
I felt his hot hand moving down my arm, but him touching me sweetly in any way felt like a lie. I didn’t want to be lied to. Shaking his hand from my arm, I slid further away from him.
“Oh so now I can’t touch you?” he asked.
“Not like that. Not with any softness. No romance remember, this is just fucking.”
I was fucked, in more ways than one.
Twenty
Sebastian
She slept next to me, an occasional sound coming from her, as if she was dreaming and in distress. Her scarlet hair was covering most of her face, but I could still see the swollen swell of her pouty lips.
I was in a fucked up place, mentally. Worse than anything I’d gone through when I was younger, except for the night that continuously haunted my dreams. The experience hardened me and changed me into the man I was today. The only way I could make it through life after that night, was by not feeling anything at all. It was either that, or die from heartache.
Jessica had been breaking down the wall I built, and I reacted poorly because it scared me. I wasn’t technically afraid of having feelings for her, I was afraid of feeling anything at all. I’d worked hard at blocking out everything to get through my days—to get myself through the one single moment that had defined the rest of my life.
And the worst part was, I hurt her. I could see it in her eyes when I lied to her face, saying it would never be about love.
Reaching out, I took a strand of her hair and rubbed it between two fingers. It was true, I had to admit it to myself. I was falling for her. Me—the man who didn’t believe in the bullshit word everyone tossed around, the man who thought love was a woman’s word. I’d always truly believed men weren’t capable of love, especially a man like me. Yet there I was, staring down at this seemingly perfect creature, and trying to figure out exactly what I was feeling.
The whole thing felt suffocating, like the air around me was too thick, too humid. Whether I was thinking of my feelings or about not being near her, I constantly felt I couldn’t breathe. A weight as heavy as New York City was pressing against my chest, and I couldn’t lift it, no matter how angry or mean I was. It just wouldn’t fucking budge.
And those eyes… those big, trusting, beautiful eyes. I couldn’t fucking shake the moment when pain entered those eyes. They haunted me because I was the cause of that heartache.
Slipping from her bed, I dressed quietly, careful not to wake her. Staring down at her as she slept, I watched her breasts lift with each deep breath. I was mesmerized—caught effectively in a web I’d personally weaved. I had to get out of there. I had to free myself, before I couldn’t.
The cool night air made me shiver as I stood outside and waited for the valet to bring my car around. The city lights blinked like the universe was trying to relay a secret message to only me—a visual Morse code of sorts for the crazy fucker. I closed my eyes to it and kept them closed, until I heard the purr of my Jaguar pulling up.
Once I was in the warmth of my car, I sat there and contemplated going back inside. The valet stood at the driver’s side window, waiting for me to climb back out. I gripped the steering wheel and shook myself. Staying over wasn’t my thing. Spending time after sex with a woman at all, was something I always avoided. Obviously, it was different with Jessica.
I decided against it and hit the road, driving slowly to give myself time to think, I passed the night-lifers and tried to pinpoint the exact moment the change in me had occurred.
When I got to the club, the place was alive—crawling with crowds of people I used to be like. I no longer felt like that man. Moving through the room, I bumped into dancers and nodded at those who knew my name, but didn’t know me. Hell, I didn’t know me—not really.