At least he had the decency to leave me a note, scribbled on the notepad I keep beside my bed.
I’m sorry. – A
Not a trace of him to be seen - nothing but the note, and apparently a card to the place I’ve been hunting down formonths. A card Chess is now holding hostage as he runs his hands over my body.
Ineedthat damn card.
“I said, don’t move.” His hand slaps firmly against my ass. “You can’t be fucking trusted to take care of yourself, so don’t throw shade at me when I do it for you.”
I scoff, my heart hammering. “You call this taking care of me?”
I choke as his fingers slide into me again, spearing me. “Yeah. In more ways than one.”
I hate him.Hatehim.
Chess keeps his fingers inside me as his other hand runs over my skin. Assessing every mark, pretending to punish me while checking me over, and my heart twists and pounds inside my chest, guilt rising.
This is torture for him. We both know it.
For six months, we’ve fought and we’ve fucked, in that order. The relationship we used to have lies in ruins alongside the scattered ashes of Adam’s body.
Refusing to let him in, but refusing to let him move on. Holding him over a ledge, punishing him, punishing myself.
I can’t remember the last time I saw Chess smile. A true smile, not the sarcastic grin he wields like a weapon.
This is the first time I’ve gone to somebody other than him.
Too far. I went too far this time.
I swallow, my eyes closing. Because I can’t bring myself to regret it either, to regret the time that I spent with Hatter last night.
It matters, he said to me.Don’t tell me it doesn’t matter.
It did matter. There was something precious there, something to treasure, but he left me anyway without a goodbye, without any way to contact him.
I should be used to it by now.
Everyone I care about leaves me.
And Chess – he’s going to leave me too. I’m going to drive him too far one day soon, push him one too many times, and he’ll be gone.
I almost wish he’d get it over with, as much as I dread the day it inevitably happens.
Chess is still behind me, still holding me on his hand, his fingers buried inside me. His voice is a plea. “Tell me to stop, Lyss.”
My face crumples as I stare out of the glass. The tears spill over, where he can’t see them, but I swallow down the shaking in my voice. “No.”
He yanks his fingers free, and I cry out as his cock enters me in one, deep thrust.
“Damn you.” He punctuates his words with a second thrust. A third. “Damn you, Alyss.”
My nails cling to that glass, my body bucking beneath him as Chess pounds into me. His fingers grip my hips, exactly where Hatter held me, as if heknows.
“Tell me,” he says hoarsely. “Did he fuck you like this? Did he know the exact spots you like to be touched, Lyss? Did you show him the places I touch you?”
One hand slides up, over my ribs, cupping my breasts. “You were fucking made for me, and you gavemypussy away to a damn stranger?”
I shouldn’t grow hot at his words, shouldn’t become impossibly wetter as he holds me in place and fucks me as though he’s entitled to it. As though he does own me. “We’re not together.”
