Looking up at him through watery eyes, he takes a thumb and wipes the tears. He brings his forehead to mine, and we sit there for a beat, taking in one another.
“Just stay with me, Sunny. Just stay with me,” he whispers with his forehead still pressed to mine. His eyes close shut and I feel his breath on my lips. I can taste his anguish and pain. His desire and need.
I’m not even sure who initiates it, but one minute we’re sharing breath and the next we’re sharing tongues.
It’s rushed, it’s fervent, it’s desire, and need in its deepest form as our hands frantically pull and search and touch. It’s teeth hitting and lip biting and faces still wet from tears.
He pulls away, removing himself from me, creating a distance I don’t appreciate. But in the same breath he comes back to me, grabbing my face to make me look at him. His eyes frantically search mine for answers I refuse to give him.
“What does this mean, Sunny? What does this mean?”
I just look at him. The words are stuck in my throat, banging with each beat of my heart.Don’t marry her. Don’t marry her. Don’t marry her. I love you. I love you. I love you.
His grip tightens. “What does this mean, Sunny?” he pleads each word out slower, as if I didn’t understand the first time.
His eyes are panicked now. Hoping I’ll say the answer in the heat of the moment so that I won’t stop myself from doing the things I want.
“It means that you can’t do this with me if you’re going to marry her.”
I can’t give him what he wants. I can’t give him a life together, no matter how much I want it. I can, however, give him this. Just not while he is engaged to another.
“But is this all we are going to get?” he asks.
“It’s all I can give you.”
He removes himself from me. “Fuck, Sunny.” He covers his mouth. “I-“ He shakes his head. “I’m engaged. I’m engaged because you told me to move forward. And now we are here, doing this.”
I look down because I can’t meet what’s behind his eyes.I can’t. I know I’m confusing him. I’m confusing myself. He can be with anyone else.Anyone.Just not her. Yet my heart whispersthat’s a lie.
If I have to be the thing to pull them apart, I will be. It’s selfish. It’s confusing. It’s a power trip.I know that. Of course I know that. But I don’t know what else to do.
“I can’t let you go, Sunny. My heart is bruised by you pulling away.” His voice breaks.
Tears sting my eyes again, because I understand the feeling of a bruised heart. It feels like mine is in that perpetual state until we’re together.
He starts pacing again, trying to formulate his thoughts. I still stand against the wall, my hands behind my back as I watch him.
He stops his pacing and looks at me as he runs a hand over his face. His emerald eyes are back to that raging fire.
“We can’t.” I shake my head.
“Fuck it.” He grabs my face in his hands, pressing his lips on mine.
One moment we are two separate beings, the next we are one. His body molds to mine with a deep moan. His need is prevalent through the layers of his suit. My hand falls to where he’s pressed against me, creating a friction that drives him wilder into this feral haze.
“Fuck, Sunny,” he groans. “It’s a good thing no one can hear us down here, because I’m going to have you screaming my name,” he says, sliding a hand through my skirt band and into my underwear, pushing his fingers inside me.
I gasp. Or moan. Or both.
All I know is it feels fucking good. I’m soaked for him. My hips immediately start grinding, trying to get him deeper. Peeling his suit jacket off, he removes those god damn fingers from me to help shimmy himself out of that tight suit.
My hands run up the carved muscles of his arms, wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling him back to my lips. And I taste it all as his tongue twines with mine. Love, desperation, need and pain.
If there's anything I know about Tyler, the more contact the better. The less clothing even better.
One hand grips my thigh, bringing it up his hip while the other slowly inches between my spread legs.
“You’re so fucking wet for me.” He smiles against my lips.
