Like a greedy little slut who just can’t get enough.
I want more of Vaughn.
I want hiseverything.
I keep at it for so long, Vaughn’s fingers around my waist loosen and he coughs. I realize I might be suffocating him with my cock, so I reluctantly pop his half-erect dick from my mouth, and it bobs against his partially-exposed stomach, on the smooth muscles of his abdomen.
Hesitantly, I push myself up, pulling out of his mouth, and he coughs a few more times as I fall beside him, carefully watching his face for any telltale signs.
That was hands down the best orgasm I’ve ever had, so if he says something hurtful right now, I don’t know how I’ll cope with it.
It’s ridiculous that I allow his words to get to me this much, knowing exactly how much he disregards me.
Is it a curse?
Is there a way I can stop it?
I’ll consider black magic, by the way.
Vaughn’s breathing harshly, his face is red, and streaks of cum trickle down his chin, looking like my own messed-up masterpiece.
But while I’m watching him, his gaze is lost in the ceiling.
What is he thinking? Is he regretting it?
Did he not like it?
Is he going to leave again while I remain here and wait for…what?
Fuck.
Why am I so focused on his mood? It was for revenge, right?
I’m looking at him all marked with my cum, and yet I feel no…joy.
If anything, as I watch the lines of his handsome, expressionless face, I know that I’d probably do anything for this guy if he merely asked.
Cy is right. I’m clearly at a disadvantage.
I’m so attuned to him while he’s just using and baiting me.
He’ll be over his bi-curiosity at some point, and I’ll be the one left behind.
The pleasure haze disappears, crashing into an abyss of dread and pressing self-preservation.
I jump up and head to the closet, then grab the first pair of shorts and T-shirt I can find.
Vaughn props himself on his elbows, and I can feel him watching me closely, but I refuse to look at him. That’s not going to help my case.
“What’s wrong…?” His question is cut off when I rush out of the room, putting on the shorts on the way.
“Yulian?” His unsure question trails behind me, but I’m already running out.
I do something I should’ve done four years ago.
I abandon him before he abandons me.
19
