He threads his fingers through my hair and pulls my head back. His lips lock with mine as his cock fills me.
I could deny the connection. I could deny that this has anything to do withhim.I could try to convince myself that it’s because I haven’t had sex for years. Since him. No connection. No intimacy.
But that’s not what this is.
This isn’t so basic.
This is something no one else could ever give me, and deep inside, that terrifies me.
Every time he moves, I am pushed closer to the oblivion of pleasure. I’m fighting for breath, clinging to him as my muscles begin to spasm.
He lifts himself so he can continue to fuck me while he watches me.
“Open your eyes, beautiful,” he commands, and I obey. Our eyes lock, and my heart races faster.
He pushes into me, again and again.
My body spasms. My legs shake, and my lips part.
“You are so fucking sexy,” he growls.
My pussy locks over his cock. My mind slips and my entire body shudders as the orgasm slams into me. It waves over me, through me. It breaks me into a million pieces.
Josiah slams into me again, deeper, grinding against me.
He explodes inside me with a low, deep growl.
***
Josiah is fast asleep with his arm locked around my waist. His breathing is even and steady and peaceful.
I haven’t been able to fall asleep. My head is a mess of regrets. My skin is agitated, as though I don’t want to be touched.
I am flooded with guilt for allowing him to have me.
Glancing at the clock, I note that it’s almost three. There is no way that I can stay here all night in his bed. I roll as gently as I can, lifting his massive arm off my waist, wiggling away and then placing it gently down. He stirs and I pause, holding my breath.
After a moment, I keep going, moving to the edge of the bed and slipping out from beneath the covers. I search in the dark for my pajamas and silently slip them back on.
Everything feels wrong.
I’ve made a massive mistake, and I can’t take it back.
Walking back to my own room, I pause outside the twins' room and the soft pink night light, and their quiet breathing beckons me as a source of comfort I desperately need.
I tiptoe into the room, not wanting to disturb them, but wanting to be near them. Lowering myself onto the armchairbetween their beds, I move last night’s storybook aside and curl my legs up underneath myself.
With my twins on either side of me, I finally manage to fall asleep.
But still, I dream of him. His haunting eyes and his fingers dragging over my skin. The darkness in him that seems to drown me as it pulls me closer. Longing. Need. Guilt.
“Kayla?” Izabel whispers, pulling me from my dreams. “Are you okay?”
My eyes flicker open, heavy and dry. I look up at her, confused for a moment. Where am I? Why is Izzie here? Half of my mind is still asleep.
She hands me a cup of coffee, and I stare at it for a moment, trying to figure out what’s going on.
“I walked past and saw you sleeping in here,” Izabel explains. “You can’t be comfortable?”
