And when he touches me...damn.
Every thought vanishes.
Every rule I ever followed, every line I said I wouldn’t cross, all of it burns away in his hands.
Every time he pushes inside me, he rewrites how I understand pleasure.I become a full-body, mind-blanking, toe-curling wreck.
I forget how to think.I forget my name.All I know is his voice in my ear, his cock filling me, and the way my body responds to him before my brain can catch up.
I should be terrified of how deep this goes, but I only crave more because there’s nothing soft about the way he moans my name when he’s buried inside me.Nothing gentle about how his hands shake when I fall apart in them.Nothing superficial about the way he kisses me afterward, as if he’s starving and I’m the only thing keeping him alive.
And there’s definitely nothing simple about how I keep going back for more, even when I understand this whole thing could blow up in our faces.
I keep reminding myself that this is temporary.It’s controlled and contained.
That it’s something I can step away from before it drags me under.Because, let’s face it, Reece is a fuckboy.A true one.The kind girls whisper warnings about while reapplying lip gloss in bathroom mirrors.The kind you drop in group chats with red flag emojis and a quick “don’t go there.”He takes what he wants, gets you hooked, then leaves you empty and aching, wondering if any of it was real.
And yet, last night, he stood in front of me with soft eyes and said he’d never hurt me.
And I wanted to believe him.
Damn, I still want to believe him.The ache is so intense, it hits spots I didn’t know could be sore.
That’s the problem with wanting.
I’m not stupid.I know what happens when girls hand their hearts to boys who’ve never been taught how to hold anything gently.
I’ve seen the pain.Heard the stories through bathroom walls, seen the smeared mascara and shaky hands clutching phones that never light up again.
I know what happens when someone prettier shows up—when they’re easier, louder.When some girl with perfect timing and no hesitation offers herself on a silver platter and asks for nothing but a fuck in return.
I know what happens when Maya bats her lashes and smiles up at Reece.When she intentionally forgets her bra.When her laugh becomes high and flirty, and she stands a little too close.
I know what happens when temptation walks right up and doesn’t ask for anything but his cock.
And I can feel it approaching.
I’m just waiting for the moment he pulls away mid-kiss.
An excuse for when his eyes shift, stopping to scan the room for someone shinier.When I’m waiting for a text and he doesn’t respond.The night he sleeps with someone else and calls it a mistake.
Every day, I dodge Lola, Liz, and Aubrey like it’s my full-time job.I run through every excuse in the book—homework, family stuff I don’t even bother to make convincing.They’re still falling for it...for now, anyway.
And yeah, I regret doing that to my best friends.
Liz is leaving in a few days.I should be soaking up every second with her.Laughing too loud.Taking photos, we’ll forget to print.Being the kind of friend who actually shows the fuck up.
Instead, I’m hiding out in Reece’s bedroom with sore thighs and a pussy that can’t stop craving him, chasing this high I swore I’d never want.
Every time I try to pull away, he touches me or says something dirty against my skin, and it’s over.I forget the guilt, that the clock is ticking on Liz’s goodbye.I forget everything but him.
Today, as I walk into school, I can still feel it.The aftershocks, the soreness.The memory of everything he did to me yesterday in that room of his.My thighs ache.My lower back’s tight.My pussy… well, it’s still throbbing if I shift the wrong way.Because Reece didn’t simply just fuck me, he wrecked me.Bent me over his mattress, mouth filthy against my ear, fingers digging into my hips like he couldn’t get close enough no matter how deep he was.Every thrust was a promise and a punishment.
I loved every second of it.
After he wrecked me, he ordered pizza and sprawled on his bed, half-naked and cocky as hell, ready to study.Except he didn’t put on a shirt.Just those abs and that goddamn smirk.
So there I was, with my textbook open and my brain fried, trying to focus on the assignment while his chest flexed each time he moved.I was supposed to be summarizing the Industrial Revolution.Instead, I ended up having another orgasm.That’s why I’m sore today and can barely sit down without clenching.
