He bolts our hips together,
pressing me down,
one more deep grind.
One more slow drag of his hips.
Hard enough I see stars.
“Allison—” he breathes, voice gone.
His mouth crashes into mine
like he’s about to fucking die.
And it ruins me.
Because I didn’t know his voice could do that.
I didn’t know my name could sound like that.
He saidAllison,
and it was the click of a door unlocking.
It was streetlight silence,
fire in the winter,
clean sheets,
the smell of his cologne.
He said my name,
and it was a porch light he left on in his chest,
in case I run and need to find my way back.
It makes my heart want to take a saw to every bone in my ribcage.
It’s everything. It’s terrifying.
And I hate him for saying my name.
And I hate myself for what it just did to me.
He locks up and lets go,
all of him pumping inside me,
hot and hard and fucking filthy.
His mouth slides off mine,
nose slipping down my jaw,
and he buries himself in my neck,
