"And I wouldn't mind something a little farther away from the hospital," she said as I planted a hand between her breasts and shoved her to the bed. "This location was perfect when I first moved here, but now I know all the other neighborhoods and I understand how to get around so I'm open to Cambridge. Maybe the Back Bay. I'm not sure. I have to look around some more and—oh."
"I know you'd like to dissociate, but I'd prefer you enjoy some part of this." I flipped her on her belly because I didn't trust myself to be close enough to see the gold in her eyes and keep myself in order. One look and I'd say something wrong, something dangerous, and I'd ruin it. I mean, fuck, she wanted to break the cycle while I was busy mentally scrambling to cancel that vacation of mine because this cycle was the only thing in the world I wanted.
"I'm not dissociating." I could hear her pouting.
"Don't be a brat." I delivered a light slap between her legs. "I've had enough of that from you tonight."
She glanced back at me. "Why haven't you taken your clothes off?"
I opened her top drawer and spent a solid minute reorganizing her hair ties. My only explanation for this mess was that she sleep-shuffled through this drawer every night. "I will when you're ready for that."
"What are you actually saying with those words?"
I grabbed one of her vibrators—she'd handed over the full collection weeks ago—and clicked it on, then off. I shook my head. "If you don't shut that little screech owl mouth, I'll find another use for it."
That did the trick.
I teased her with the vibrator for a bit, careful to keep my hand between her shoulder blades and her face on the mattress because I was pretty sure I was staring at her with murder eyes, but I couldn't help it. She was talking about two-bedroom condos to have a room for yoga, and throwing the happy, non-toxic life she intended to live without me over her shoulder, so, yeah, I couldn't see straight.
She came once on the vibrator, another time on my tongue and fingers. It wasn't a struggle to get her there several times in one night now that she'd given up on the impossibility of it. It'd be great if she applied that logic to other situations.
I was still giving her the murder eyes when I stepped out of my trousers and rolled down the condom. Her body was warm and humid with sweat and her bun had morphed into a crazy halo of wisps and curls, and I could've tortured her for another hour or two, but this didn't feel good for me anymore. It felt like I was drawing her a map, but instead of allowing it to function as a map and tell her where to go, she saw nothing more than a pretty picture.
I couldn't keep drawing the map. It hurt to create something and have no one notice.
I clasped her wrists at the small of her back and pushed inside her slowly. I had to go slow this time. I had to remember how she felt around me and why I loved the first few seconds of overwhelming heat and pressure the most. I had to remember and then I had to say goodbye.
I wanted to taste her neck and stow that memory away with the rest of them, but I didn't trust myself to lean in, press my chest to her back. I needed a bit of distance to keep me from getting too honest.
She was always quiet when she came, but this one surprised me. Her lips parted on a silent cry, but her body went wild, jerking and pulsing against me like she was trying to break loose. The erratic rock of her thick thighs kept it going longer than I'd expected and that was when I lost myself imprinting those memories into the most sacred corner of my mind. That was when my control slipped for a minute and this came to an end I wasn't prepared to accept.
The orgasm ripped me apart. It reverberated into my chest and shoulders, and left me sore, as if I'd twisted every muscle the wrong way. I stared down at her, stunned and aching while my cock went on spurting like my body meant to drain every ounce of me into the condom. That it left me empty and unsatisfied seemed to be the point.
Sara twisted her hands from my grip and rotated her wrists several times. That shook me from this stupor. "What's wrong?" I pulled out with a miserable groan, truly rather surprised her pussy hadn't succeeded in biting my dick off this time. "Was that too tight? Are you okay?"
She rolled to the side and dropped her gaze to the fringe of a small pillow. "I'm okay."
"Let me see your wrists."
"No," she said. "I'm fine. I don't need any doctoring." Finally, she glanced up at me. That I had to be ripped apart after coming with my entire soul while she stared at me seemed unfair. This was all really fucking unfair. "I think we need to see what happens when we don't have sessions and homework assignments all the time. I think we need to figure out what that's like."
I snatched a tissue from the bureau to clean up the condom. "Seems like you've already figured it out."
"Don't be an asshole."
"It's what I do best." I stepped into my boxers and trousers, dropped my focus to latching my belt. I grabbed my shirt off the floor and shrugged it on as I marched out of her bedroom. I couldn't stay there any longer. I almost left, but I couldn't make it to the door without passing her kitchen and that shelf of colored glasses.
I stared at those glasses, just fucking hating their existence and all the big and small things they represented. I did not want to walk back into her room, the one with pillows all over the floor, the bed a wreck, the scents of me and her andusin the air, and the drowsy naked girl who owned me inside and out, but refused to see it. I didn't want to do it.
"Fucking water," I muttered, grabbing a glass off the shelf and flipping on the faucet. "She doesn't need me to do this. Doesn't need me for anything. Nope, nope, nope. Fuck the water." I dumped it out only to fill it again. "Just…fuck."
I did this three times and seriously considered throwing the fucking cup at the wall, but then she'd probably cut herself on the broken glass and I'd have to patch her up, which would kill me all over again. For all I knew, she didn't even notice the times I'd straightened her blankets or brought her water after fucking the fight out of her. She probably didn't care, so I didn't care.
But I cared very, very much and it was incredibly inconvenient. I knew if I didn't bring her that water, I'd as much as forfeit my right to ever bring her anything ever again.
And since that wasn't something I could live with, I walked back into her room. The pillows were all over the place and the bed was nowhere near the wall and the air was thick enough for me to taste her on my tongue. As for the drowsy naked girl, she was staring at me with an annoying little smile that drew me out of my misery long enough to roll my eyes.
I set the glass on the bureau and leaned down to brush a kiss over her lips. I should've walked away then, should've dragged my ass upstairs and cried into some avocado, but I couldn't stop myself this time.
