I want to play.
I pull back and then sit on the bed. I can smell her arousal, the heady musk and it’s all I can do to not mount her and fuck her now.
Her lips are red and plump, eyes glazed. I lift a hand and brush my thumb over her bottom lip and she takes it in her mouth and bites down softly. My hand drops down to her tits, pinching a nipple without grace.
Her moan is sweeter than music.
I move my hand back up and grasp her chin gently, bringing her mouth to mine. She let’s me kiss her, her mouth opening and I slowly take possession, working her onto my lap so that her centre is pressing against my cock, her wetness slipping onto me.
Blair loses herself in sex. The touch and feel of another body, because in the act we’re all the same. When you’re naked, a tarnished crown isn’t on your head. This is her escape, her therapy and it kills me.
I’m just another body with which she can take away the pain, knowing that there’s no kiss and tell because both of us have too much to lose.
Her tits brush against my chest, nipples hard. I hold her shoulders, dominating her mouth and she lets me, stilling herself, behaving.
Soon there will be an explosion.
My hand slips up to cradle the back of her head, threading her hair through my fingers. My other hand seeks the silk between her legs, pressing one finger inside her, feeling her tense and tight.
There’s only me and her in the room.
The loss is like the presence of another person and neither of us are acknowledging it. This is the first time, the first time without Ben and it feels monumental. Huge.
Without giving her warning, I tip her back onto the mattress and pin her wrists against it. My mouth has left hers and instead I trail down, tasting her neck, her breasts, over her stomach and down to her centre, giving one long lick from her entrance to her clit.
Her moan is almost silent, the vibrations of it reverberating through her bones, the very bones of her singing their own song.
This is the first time I’ve done this. It’s always been Ben, sometimes with his cock in my mouth, but never me tasting her, unless it’s been with his instruction, his permission.
She comes quickly, her hands breaking free and clutching my hair and it’s my name on her lips that I hear.
I move up her body, seeing her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, eyes that are glazed with arousal.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” I barely recognise my own voice.
“Yes. Now.” Her hips and words urge me on.
I line up my cock and push in slowly, watching her face for everything I need to know. Her eyes close as I fill her, tightness making me almost lose consciousness and I’m drowning in something I don’t know how to identify.
She says my name.
And that’s when I break, the first fracture I’ve ever felt since I understood the importance of being the glue, the bond that holds everything together.
Isaac. Isaac. Isaac.
She says my name.
Her pussy contracts around me, her tits bouncing with each thrust and I’m captured by whatever spell it is that she casts just by being.
I orgasm without control, hard thrusts that have Blair holding onto my arms and gripping my back with her legs, leaving us both breathless and me wondering if somewhere between this morning and now I’ve lost my mind.
I expect her to turn away, confused, maybe hating me for what we’ve done, because this is revenge and rebound sex. Ben isn’t here and he’s left us both.
But she doesn’t.
Instead she holds onto me as if I’m her lifeline to stop her from falling into a chasm where the bottom isn’t there.
I have never seen Blair cry. Something tells me I never will. But as we lie side by side with the glint of a snowy moon gazing through the window, I see her eyes and the eddy of pain that sits within them.
