Images of how she grasped me by the hair.
Took me?—
My core burns, and a wave of relief spreads through me as my legs press around her head.
I ride the feeling out.
It is the most heated orgasm I have ever heard.
I just came by thinking about being roughly handled. Everything about it is wrong, rationally. Emotionally, I am too consumed to analyze it.
I release my legs.
She comes up and looks at me.
Her eyes are wide, with pain in them.
“You didn’t leave,” she whispers.
“No,” I say. “I won’t leave you.”
“But you have to,” she says, her face grimacing in pain. “I need you to hate me.”
“No, I won’t,” I whisper.
“I’m a mess,” she breathes out, and tears find their way into her eyes, tears that drip down onto my body.
“I know,” I say. “I knew that from the moment I met you. But I am here anyway. Because I love you.”
“You cannot love me,” she says with her contorted face and a shaky voice. “And I cannot love you.”
“Why?” I ask.
She struggles with herself for a moment.
“Because,” she begins, and her eyes shimmer from the tears that try to fight their way to the surface. “Because in loving you, I am betraying her.”
With that, she pushes herself up, removes the strap, takes the bottle of whiskey, and walks to the bathroom, locking herself in it.
It takes me a moment to realize what she just said. It takes me even longer to find my will to free myself from the ties around my wrists.
My hands tingle horribly when the rope slips off, and it takes several minutes before I can move them properly again. I crawl off the bed, my entire body hurts.
I grasp my pants, slip them on?—
It’s when I see there is blood on the bed.
I walk to the mirror.
My butt is smeared in blood.
I didn’t even realize that.
And while I should be all sorts of shocked, I am not.
I roll my shoulders. I can’t deal with those thoughts right now.
Suddenly, a shattering noise from the bathroom.
