I watched her face contort and twist in self-hatred, worthlessness, and shame. The weight of her guilt, what she was feeling, pressed on my chest with suffocating pressure.
Every part of me—mind, body, and soul—hated it.
The need to tell her my truth overwhelmed me. I couldn’t stand to just sit there and listen to her beat herself up when she’s the last person to blame for what’s going on.
I’ve beaten myself to a pulp for years over everything I’ve done.
I refuse to let her do that to herself.
There’s still so much I want to tell her. Especially now that the small amount of fear I had about how she may look at me after I was honest is gone. I’ve had to take so many steps to get myself where I am, and I still slide right back into the old mentality of shutting down completely.
I’m continuously working on it, though.
More so now than ever. Because of her.
I want her to know, in the fighting rings, I really wanted to kill every single person in there for witnessing what was happening to her and didn’t do anything about it.
The dark void in my mind whispered all the ways I’d slice the pieces of shit up. I had myself convinced there for a second, that’s the side of me that belongs in charge.
Fuck compromise, compassion, and appreciating what I have. If I just gave in, I could destroy all of Hellveilious in a matter of hours. It’d solve Creed’s problems, and I’d never have to worry about her being dragged to that place ever again.
My mind only grew quiet when I heard her voice.
My vision tunneled and all I saw was her face. The worry she had was for me, not because of me.
She’s the only reason I snapped myself out of it.
She was all I cared about.
All I felt when she wrapped her hands around me.
Just like they’re wrapping around me now.
My lips brand a pattern down her neck and the touch of her fingers sears into my skin. I can’t help but grind my hips into her.
“Kyzen,” she moans, and I hum, wrapping my lips around her nipple.
Fuck, the way she breathes my name is intoxicating.
I can’t wait to have that sweet mouth of hers wrapped around me, gagging my name as I come down her throat.
That glorious experience won’t be happening right now, though, and I haven’t let her do it to me despite the number of times she’s tried.
I told myself when I ate her out in her shower for the first time, I was going to do it as much as possible. Once she starts shoving my head in her pussy, begging for my tongue, then I’ll know every bad experience she’s ever had with that is gone.
Her bad experience with foreplay in general needs to be erased.
My little goddess thinks she hides herself well from me, but she doesn’t. She’s said and done small things that lead me to believe she’s given head out of being told to or out of expectation.
Not because she really wanted to.
I don’texpecther to suck my cock.
I want her to want it.
I want her drooling over it the same way my mouth waters when I think about running my tongue from her core to her clit.
Her hips lift off the bed as I lay a kiss on the inside of her thigh and a smirk crosses my lips.
